Page 27 of Violent Little Thing

More Than Friends

DELILAH

“ S omething is off about that man.” Head angled on a slant, I study the charred remains of the rose bush I ignited last week and wrinkle my brow.

According to Ms. Agnes, she and the weekly landscaping staff are under strict orders not to touch it. Adonis wants it to stay as it is, burnt to a crisp. An eyesore in his otherwise prize-winning masterpiece of a backyard.

“Why you staring at it like you didn’t do it?” Ms. Agnes chirps, appearing beside me with a sweating jar of lemonade.

“Didn’t know he’d keep it like a souvenir,” I admit, facing her.

“Of course he did. That man is something else when it comes to you.” Ms. Agnes’ lips twist in a silent critique. “It’s about damn time.”

“About time for what? What does that mean?”

“Nothing, honey. Here. It’s hot as blue blazes out here, drink something so you don’t pass out. ”

My lips quirk. The woman is full of sayings I’ve never heard, but they roll off her tongue with such ease, I’m convinced I’m just behind the times.

A floppy white hat shields her face and head full of graying coils from the sun, and I smile because of the comfort her presence brings me.

She’s a breath of fresh air after a lifetime of not having a single older woman in my life. Ms. Agnes could tell me the sky is green, and grass is blue and I’d believe her.

All it took was a month of her loving on me for me to form an attachment. It only took a week with Indigo, so I guess that checks out. Considering the circumstances…

“What’s on your mind, sunshine?”

My answer gets stuck in my throat like a stubborn sneeze until a cold and sticky liquid slides between my toes.

Something wet nudges my left shin and I connect the dots, realizing it’s Titus’ nose. His high-pitched whine snaps through me like a bolt of lightning and I’m alert again.

Then I look down at my sandals and shiver at the shine of lemonade coating my right foot.

The mason jar Ms. Agnes handed me minutes ago is on the ground beside it. Empty now, save for the sprig of mint sticking to the glass.

When did I drop my lemonade?

“Delilah…Delilah!”

When my eyes finally focus, Ms. Agnes looks at me with an alarmed expression that ages her face twenty years.

“Come on, sunshine. Let’s get you in the house before these ants tear up your feet.”

“I dropped my lemonade,” I say, the words coming out disjointed. “Sorry, let me clean it up.”

“No, you getting in the house and I’ll come take care of that later.” She grabs my hand and leads me through the kitchen door to the breakfast table.

Seated in Adonis’ usual spot, I watch her snatch off her hat and fling it on the counter.

On a mission, she rushes to grab paper towels, wetting them under the faucet before speed walking back to me.

“Why do you look like you just saw a ghost? Is everything okay?”

“Of course everything’s okay, sunshine.” But her words lack confidence as she kneels before me.

“Ms. Agnes, I can?—”

“Just let me do it, Delilah. Please .”

The fierceness of her command leaves me speechless, so I sit there while she tends to me, her hands moving frantically until my foot and ankle are no longer sticky.

She gets up without another word and throws the thick paper towel away, washing her hands before she faces me. “Why don’t we stay inside for the rest of the day and relax? I’ll show you those movies I was telling you about earlier.”

“Oh…okay.”

Agnes grins, but the light above the table catches the watery shimmer in her eyes. Her hands find either side of my head, holding me in place while she scans my face.

“You just scared the daylights out of me, sunshine.” A tender affection blankets her voice. “Come on, I’ll make Victor get the theater room in the basement ready while we grab some snacks.”

I can’t believe I spent so much time avoiding Adonis’ basement. It’s like a whole other house down there and not the dungeon I trumped it up to be in my mind. Definitely nothing like the tunnel to hell in my childhood home.

For six hours, Ms. Agnes, Titus and I watch movies on the big screen. We eat lunch down there and by the end of the day, the roof of my mouth is close to raw from the number of sour candies I took from the fully stocked snack counter.

For the first time since I’ve been here, Adonis is a no show for dinner. So I eat with Victor instead. Aside from him driving me around, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man sit down, so I spend half the meal staring at him in between bites of my prime rib.

A whole week has passed since I asked him to look into that number for me. His silence leads me to believe he hit a dead end and he’s just trying to find a way to let me down gently.

“Everything okay, Ms. Delilah?”

“Yes.” I let my fork rest against the edge of my plate. “Where’s Adonis?”

“He had something to take care of after work.”

“So, he’s not out of town?”

The last time Adonis disappeared for a week had been a pleasant surprise. But if that happens now…

“No, he’ll be back tonight.”

One of Victor’s rare smiles makes me smile. “Okay.”

For a week straight, I’ve spent every night in front of the piano with Adonis, following our unspoken rule to show up at ten o’clock.

It’s one of the only times he’s bearable and getting information out of him is easier when his fingers dance over the keys.

He told me about his love of anime growing up, and about how Titus would only fall asleep if he was playing the piano.

That was when he first got him. Titus had been his grandfather’s companion until the day he passed.

Adonis’ father had been ready to surrender Titus to the Humane Society until he said he wanted him.

He joked that Titus was his favorite inheritance even though it took the dog a while to warm up to him.

When he tells me stories like that, he almost seems…normal. And not the man with questionable morals and too much money for his own good.

It’s become a routine. Him playing me songs and me prying bits and pieces of his life out of him while he does it.

And I could really use the distraction tonight. Now that Ms. Agnes is gone and the house is quiet, the EEG I have scheduled for tomorrow morning looms over my head.

I want the answers Silas says it will bring, but the not knowing is something I didn’t expect to get to me. I’ve spent my whole life not knowing and now I suddenly have a doctor advocating to get answers for me?

It’s…odd.

Pajamas on, I stuff my feet into my slippers and check the time on my phone.

9:55 p.m.

Still no sign of Adonis.

It’s not a big deal if he misses tonight. He’s busy doing whatever it is he does all day.

I’m not looking forward to spending time with him or anything. I tell myself that even when I grab my phone from the nightstand and head down the back staircase to the living room.

I know Victor is still on guard somewhere in this house but he’s out of sight as I plop down on the lavish sofa, my ears alert as I scroll through Instagram .

One video about koalas turns into ten and I’m down a rabbit hole before I can stop myself. After a while, my lids are too heavy to keep open, so I close them.

“Five minutes,” I tell myself. Then I’ll go upstairs if Adonis isn’t here when I wake up.