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No More Secrets

ADONIS

Alonzo: I’ve been trying to call you all day, what the fuck you got going on?

Me: I was with Delilah

Alonzo: She good?

Me: Perfect

Alonzo:

Me: Don’t start that jealous shit, I’ll still make time for you and Silas

Alonzo: Check the files I sent you the other night, jack ass

Me: Fuck, I nevergot to those

After Indigo broke into my house on Friday, I didn’t come back into my office. Then I spent all yesterday at work before getting ready for the Gala. Just to leave the event before dinner was ever served. I shake my head at the shit show yesterday was and walk into my office while reading Alonzo’s follow up message.

Alonzo: I think I cracked the code on why Delilah is so loyal to Weston and why he got a religious exemption for his dad’s autopsy

Pocketing my phone,I sit down with piqued curiosity and open our shared network drive, going to the last updated folder he added.

There’s only one video inside and it’s less than a minute long.

When I open the video, the tension I kept away all day comes rushing back when I see Delilah and Marcellus in the frame.

After seeing the way she’d flourished in the year since his death, it always fucks with me when I’m reminded of the underweight and vulnerable version of her in that house.

On my screen, Marcellus waves off something inaudible Delilah says before heading for the stairs.

She follows, right on his heels, and asks the question again. Marcellus stops. Looks her up and down. And turns away from her with a scoff.

The next thing happens so fast, I have to replay it four times before it sinks in.

Rather than text Alonzo back, I get up and climb the stairs.

She’s the reason our mother left. The reason my father is dead. She’s a snake, Samson. Be careful.

Weston’s warning hasn’t crossed my mind since he gave it because all that man does is lie. But now his words echo in my head while my heart rate hikes with every stair I climb.

Four.

Eight.

Twelve.

Sixteen steps until I’m standing in the door of my bedroom.

Delilah’s in my bed, exactly where I wanted her.

Unbothered and comfortable in my sheets, she doesn’t look up when I close the door behind me.

Disturbing the usual quiet in my space is an Australian accent coming from her phone’s speakers as she smiles at her screen.

“What are you watching?” I already know the answer, I just want her attention.