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The bastard who is responsible for this.
It’s been weeks, and I’m no closer to the violent revenge he’s owed. Delphine made me swear I’d let her decide how to handle him—even do it herself—but I can’t say with certainty I won’t renege on my word.
I’m too much of a violent psycho not to indulge in his destruction myself. So many twisted ideas swarm inside my head of the ways I can make him suffer. It’d probably make her sick if I voiced them aloud.
I turn my back on Delphine, unable to hide behind a composed act.
I can’t be around her when I’m like this.
I leave her alone to change and recollect herself—and so I can gather my own bearings again.
Salt and Pepa peek out from their hiding spots in the living room. Pepa’s nestled between throw pillows on the sofa. Salt watches me from underneath a console table. Both blink at me with a curious air as if they know their mother is upset.
“Don’t worry. She’s okay. She just needs a moment,” I clarify, moving into the kitchen. I plant my hands on the counter and expel a ragged breath. It hardly relieves the tension wound up in my muscles, but it allows for time to think practically.
I need to focus on making Delphine feel better.
Sometimes in the evenings before bed, she’ll drink some tea as she reads a book. The chamomile helps her relax. I set to making her a cup.
It’s not much but it might help.
“Phi, you alright?” I stand outside my bedroom and tap my knuckles on the door. Entering unannounced could startle her.
“You can come in. I’m fine.”
She’s curled up on my bed in a way that’s similar to Pepa out in the living room. Her clothes are in a heap on the end of the bed. Instead, she’s slipped on my shirt and nothing else. My protective streak intensifies knowing she chose to put something of mine on during a moment like this.
I set the tea down on the bedside table. “Figured it might help.”
She sits up and scoots over. When I take the spot next to her, she leans in and rests her head on my shoulder. The anxious energy she’d given off earlier has lessened... slightly. But she’s still upset. Her hand even rests on her chest, absentmindedly touching the spot where her rose pendant used to lay.
“I don’t know why I panicked. It just happened. I was on my knees and then you pushed my legs apart. He ripped my...” She trails off with a sigh, leaving the sentence half completed.
“You can’t help it. You don’t have to explain. I didn’t know or I wouldn’t’ve done that.”
“That’s just it. We were caught up in the moment. Ilikedit—I was so turned on. Then it came out of nowhere. I don’t want this to be my life, Jon. I don’t want to have these reactions whenever I’m trying to live it. Yet it keeps happening.”
I’m careful sliding my arm around her. Being somebody who’s largely detached from most human emotions, it’s difficult giving her what she needs in moments like this. I don’t have the right words or proper solutions. My way is the opposite—no talking about feelings or working to overcome them.
My outlets come in the form of blood and violence. It’s been all I’ve known my whole life.
Lucius taught me with his fists. He beat it into me until fighting became second-nature.
But Delphine isactuallya good person. She needs a sane, healthy means to heal. Not my fucked up methods like she seems to think. Her killing the guy isn’t going to make her feel any better.
As selfish as it is, I don’t want her to. She’s too good to lower herself like that. I’ll do the dirty work. I’ll lower myself to the pits of hell if necessary. If it means getting the revenge I’ve dedicated my life to.
“I’m the last guy to believe in it... but you ever think about therapy? Isn’t that what normal people do when they have issues? It might do some good. Give you coping techniques and whatever else they do.”
She gives a wry smile. “Salvatore Mancino suggesting therapy. Youmustbe worried.”
“First time for everything. I don’t like seeing you that way, Phi.”
“It’s crossed my mind. It’s confidential and I’m sure I can find a good therapist. But I don’t think I can. It’s difficult for me to stop being...” She releases a breath that sounds like a struggle on her lungs. “I was always taught to have it together at all times. My parents expected the best. My father stressed I could never slip up. I had to be on my A game every single moment… or I’d be judged twice as hard.”
I bite down hard and resist the urge to point out he’d never followed his own rules. Right down to the affair he once had before Mrs. Adams passed away.
Delphine hesitates before glancing at me. “I’m not sure I can stop pretending around anyone else... except you.”
