Page 44

KANE

S he always has to lie. I don’t even know why I give a fuck or why I keep allowing her to suck me back into her shit. I should have fucked her. At least I wouldn’t be pissed at her mouth that way.

The bag I’d taken to Austria is sitting on the edge of the bed. I don’t bother getting dressed. Instead, I go into the front pocket and take out the metal cigarette holder and a lighter. I don’t know what Helene will be doing, but not knowing shit seems to be the theme of my fucking life.

There’s a twisted urge to set fire to the drapes around the bed and watch Delilah burn in this fucked up house.

I know I wouldn’t be able to see it through.

I’d end up staying next to her, and she doesn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me die.

Spite is the only thing keeping me alive as her small sobs come from the bathroom, making me hate her a little less for soothing me.

Now we’re both fucking broken beyond repair, only I’m not the one in tears this time.

She doesn’t show emotion easily and she never used to feel bad about anything she did. It was a given that she could have whatever she wanted at any time because she was a Leroux and her name meant something to the shallow fucks she surrounded herself with.

I fight my own feelings and walk in the opposite direction of her cries.

I can’t leave the room though, and if she asks I’m going to have to lie and say I was enjoying her pain when the opposite is true.

I fucking hate her being in pain. I crave it, yet there’s an equal need to comfort her when she doesn’t fucking deserve it.

The trio of large arched windows are dressed with thick brocade drapes, but one of the openings works.

I climb up, swing my legs over the stone ledge and watch the drop down to the water, that must be at least twenty feet, as I take out two cigarettes.

Placing one between my lips, I hold the other between my finger and thumb, then stretch my arm out over the edge.

I slowly open my fingers and watch the brown tip roll until it becomes nothing more than a speck, ultimately engulfed by the water without making so much as a dent.

Delilah’s murmuring gets louder, and I lean back so my head is inside the bedroom to hear her say, “Dear Judge, Kane is innocent. He didn’t do anything to Asher, and he wasn’t at the cabin. He left in the morning because I said I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

Lies.

She’s such a good fucking liar, I bet she believes her own bullshit.

Flicking the cap of the lighter back, I roll the ball. The hissing covers her mumbling as I bring the flame to the tip of the cigarette. The smoke forces me to breathe in a set rhythm and I read her letter from memory between each drag.

“Dear Judge, Kane is a dangerous person. He’s able to hide who he is and everything that has been said during the course of this trial to discredit Asher Xandros is true, about his brother .”

I should pat her on the back for giving me the idea of her punishment. If it wasn’t for her and Asher constantly calling me his reflection, I never would have thought of pretending to be him. There’s something poetic in using the very thing they tarnished me with to get my revenge.

“He scares me,” I continue as the smoke drifts over my lips.

“We were never really friends growing up. I was closer to Asher and he knew that. I don’t think I’d be safe if he was allowed to be free because he thinks that we’re in a relationship, even though I’ve told him I don’t love him.

I love Asher. He was the love of my life and I would never choose anyone else.

Asher loved his brother, so I kept everything that Kane did to me a secret because I was scared of hurting him. ”

I take another drag and look up at the sky.

“Kane tricked me into thinking he was Asher while we were at the cabin and he pinned me down. I knew it wasn’t him.

They’re identical, but the heart knows who it belongs to.

So I fought him. I tried my best to fight him off me, and if I was stronger, maybe Asher would still be here today.

He attacked me. This is all my fault because I didn’t tell anyone about the first time that he did it after he snuck into my house, pretending to be the love of my life.

I was scared and I didn’t want to lose Asher.

Please send him away so that I can be safe. ”

There are a few bright white clouds and I move onto her father’s portion of the letter.

“My daughter is afraid to leave the house and our family has suffered greatly throughout this ordeal. Not only have we been forced to prematurely grieve the loss of a boy destined to be a great man and son-in-law, but my daughter has had to contend with the thought of carrying her rapist’s child.

I trust this will be kept in confidence, as Delilah is not well enough to seek the justice she deserves, but I hope that this may be taken into consideration when issuing a sentence to that monster.

He ended more than one life that day, and Asher will always be remembered as a brave soul who, despite his familial obligations, attempted to protect my daughter after he found her beneath his animal of a brother. ”

My lips twitch at his descriptors. A monster. An animal. I spent my entire life up until that moment being invisible, then overnight, I became a monster. Just skipped the whole being a person shit entirely.

“Say that again.”

I jump at the bark behind me and nearly fall off the fucking ledge. I turn to see Delilah standing in the doorway of the bathroom without anything covering her. Her hair sticks to her neck and shoulders, but her eyes are wild as she demands, “Fucking repeat it. Now.”

I don’t say anything and tap the ash off the end of the cigarette before bringing it to my lips. She watches me with tears welling against her lower lashes. They spill over the edge as I take another drag and a haunting whisper blows across the room.

“You knew?” She storms towards me, repeating, “You fucking knew!”

I expect a slap or punch, but she grabs the window opening and the hinge nips my skin as she tries to push it closed. Pushing my arm through the gap, I hold the stone surrounding so I don’t fall and snap, “What the fuck are you doing, you crazy bitch?”

The glass pane presses flat against my bicep as she shouts through her tears, “Fuck you! You fucking knew and you still did this. You’ve known all along!”

A door slams outside of our room and I risk my life to hold her mouth closed.

The nutcase continues pushing me, but I manage to push back to keep the window open and drag her through the gap.

She stiffens as I sit her between my thighs and band my arm around her chest to cover her tits in case anyone can see her.

My cigarette fell during her attempted murder, but she doesn’t calm the fuck down as I take out a new one. Her bony ass elbows swing back, jabbing me in the ribs while she hisses, “Get off me, asshole.”

I lean forward without taking my arm away from her chest. She holds my knees when she notices the drop. Applying more pressure against her back, I ask, “Still want me to let go?”

She gives a small shake of her head and I stay in the same position as I light up.

“Are you sure?” I inhale and blow the smoke away from her face. “You might like the swim. The water looks nice, doesn’t it?”

Her nails dig through the towel and into my skin, so I slowly lean back to prevent her leaving any more marks or claims on me.

The ledge is wide enough for her to sit comfortably, but I like her being wrapped in me.

There’s no escape from her mouth as she stares at the jagged rocks below us, restarting her lies.

“If you knew, why do you hate me?” She looks up over her shoulder at me with a small crease forming between her brows. “You don’t smoke.”

I nod, taking another drag. “Yeah. You must be seeing shit. It’s a habit of yours, isn’t it?”

I instantly regret the quip because her face falls. She stares at her feet with her chin tucked to her chest, looking so fucking broken. The crease between her brows deepens and she begins mumbling, “I know what’s real.”

A tear falls, skimming her cheek, and splashes against her thigh.

It bounces up, leaving small drops on her skin.

Another hits her other thigh and she traces the scar on her knee.

It’s the only part of her body I don’t know, and it’s a stupid thing to be jealous about, but there was a time I spent hours committing everything Delilah allowed me to see to memory.

“How did this happen, koukla mou?”

She turns her head as I rest my chin on her shoulder.

The tears are still present in her eyes, but they’re desolate as she monotonously says, “I tried to escape but there wasn’t enough space and I got stuck between the bars and the window.

Then the doctor found me, and…” She rapidly taps her temple with her forefinger. “It went fuzzy again.”

More tears fall as she looks down at her stomach. She hesitantly presses the tips of her fingers below her navel, then stares like someone has gutted her and she can see her innards.

“I think he did it on purpose,” she whispers, almost like she’s asking herself. “Yeah, it had to be.”

“Who?”

Her cheek brushes mine as she slowly shakes her head and leans back against my chest. One name stops me feeling empathetic towards her.

“Asher. He did it so I was stuck. Then I couldn’t breathe. No one would let me breathe.”

Her hand trembles as she forces it flat against her stomach and a pained sob cracks through her chest. She shakes, uncaring about the drop.

I can’t escape her tears as they burn down her cheek to pool in the cracks between my forearm and her chest. And I’m not able to get a word out because she fucks everything up again as she stutters, “I-I wanted it to be yours.”