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LUCAS
It’s been three days since Delilah became my little captive. For the last two, she has been behaving extremely well, keeping her back talk and flirting to a minimum. Instead of complaining, she kneels in front of me, holding out her hands for me to tie them together. She has been eating the disgusting food I bring her like it’s a gourmet meal and sleeping on the floor like it’s a Sleep Number bed.
I know better than to trust her faked innocence. She is staying quiet, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t plotting. I’m on high alert when it comes to her, and I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon.
She still hasn’t shared anything about her past, which has me trying a different technique today.
“Come sit on the couch. You can watch a movie while I work.”
Her surprise is written all over her face. “Really?”
“Yes. Really.” I point at the couch and watch her carefully step toward it. As if testing for booby traps, she pads the sofa cushion before finally sitting down awkwardly.
She relaxes slightly after I turn on some movie and sit down at the kitchen table. It takes her another fifteen minutes before she actually leans back and pulls up her legs to get comfortable.
She pretends to be interested in the movie, keeping her eyes glued to the screen, but I know she is faking it because her reactions to anything happening on the screen are basically zero. No laughter at a joke, no sadness when someone dies. She simply stares at the screen with the same facial expression throughout the film.
“Enjoying the movie?”
Her head snaps up, startled by my voice. “Beats sitting in my room and staring at the wall.”
“So TV and movies are not your thing?”
“Not really, no.”
“So what do you do for fun?” Getting her to talk is like pulling teeth, so I’m surprised when she actually answers.
“I grew up in a single-wide trailer with a chain smoker who didn’t do much besides watching soap operas and talk shows during the day and movies at night. So fun for me means doing literally anything besides that.”
“Like going to the mall?” Seems like something teenage girls would do.
“Didn’t you hear the part about the trailer park? Where do you think I would get money from to go to any mall?”
“Your dad had lots of money.”
“Well, he wasn’t keen on sharing it with me,” Delilah grits through her teeth. Her hatred for her father seems real, but that doesn’t mean much. Valentine's blood still runs through her veins.
“If you say so.” Getting up from my chair, I walk up to where she is sitting and reach for the remote next to her. “I’m leaving for a few hours. So get back to your room.”
“Where are you going? It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”
“That’s none of your business. Get up.”
“No.” She crosses her arms over her chest like a bratty teenager.
“No?” A smirk tugs on my lips. “I must have given you the wrong impression by letting you sit on my couch and watch a movie. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have treated you this well.”
Her vigor leaves her right away. She lets her arms fall beside her, and her shoulders slump. “I don’t deserve to be locked up like an animal.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You deserve all of this and more.”
“Why? What did I ever do to you or anyone?”
“You exist.” That’s the short answer. I don’t have any proof she is guilty but having Valentine blood run through her veins is enough for me. She is part of that family. She is the only one left to punish. And I will be the one doing the punishing.
In one quick move, I grab a fistful of her hair. An ear-piercing shriek rips from her throat as I force her down on the couch. Her arms flail out, her short nails digging into my skin.
Her fight is short-lived when she catches sight of the knife I pull from my boot. The light catches the sharp blade, making it shine just like I want it. The panic in her eyes grows, and the strength in her arms diminishes.
