Page 47 of Violent Little Thing

Tired

DELILAH

PRESENT DAY

T wenty-six is too young to be this tired.

I knew I should have stayed in bed when my head felt like it was one sneeze from splitting open. At the same time, I can appreciate the bullshit for unlocking a new memory.

The day I met Adonis.

Even sadness doesn’t stop my lips from quirking. I finally remember him and the chaos leading up to that moment. My whole body ached the next day after prancing around for miles in those flimsy sandals.

But they were all I had at the time. And they got me exactly where I needed to be.

Two days after I left Adonis in that graveyard, I ended up meeting Indigo at the public library. I was on another solo outing and even though I got denied a library card because I couldn’t show them the documents they needed, I went to the back and sat down at a table overlooking downtown Wildwood.

When I was zoned out, a woman with an Afro asked me if she could sit with me. Her hair had been bright purple back then.

We ended up talking and she told me she was looking for a place to stay while she went to Cosmetology school. And the rest is history. Well, more or less. The murky details don’t matter as much as me finding my footing.

The sun has just begun to set when Adonis finds me at the edge of the pool, my legs submerged in the water while I stare at the cypress trees skirting his property.

“Hey, menace.” The greeting is weighted. Almost an audible representation of how I feel right now.

“You’re back from work early,” I say, not breaking eye contact with the trees.

His hand comes around my waist and I sag against him immediately.

“It’s the usual time, baby.” He kisses my hair even though it probably tastes like sweat and smells like regret. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, but I know Titus has come and gone twice.

I was waiting on his third visit but got Adonis instead.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m tired, Adonis.” I’ve said it before, but it doesn’t make it any less true. I pull off my glasses, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Every time I feel like I’ve found my footing, something comes and knocks me on my ass.”

Moving his hand from my side to my shoulder, he summons me deeper into his space.

With my head heavy on his chest, I feel like I can say anything .

“I know I’m immature and people don’t take me seriously.

And I know that’s why they try to walk all over me.

But it’s not my fault.” I pinch my nose again, trying to keep my tears away.

“I’ve only been doing this a year. I’m fucking trying.

And every time I feel calm for two seconds, something comes and gives me whiplash.

I wish people didn’t look at me and think I’m easy to walk all over.

I don’t want to fight, but what choice do they give me? ”

His presence gives me permission to deflate. To cry for the first time today.

Adonis rests his chin on top of my head, talking me through it.

I want to end Weston, make him suffer for the shattered pieces of my heart.

But a less broken part of me wants to hear his side of it.

Just when I think I’m done sniveling and wiping tears from my face, another wail splits the summer air. “Oh god! And on top of everything, I have fucking Stockholm Syndrome.”

My body is shaking before I put the dots together and recognize the movement for what it is: Adonis laughing.

“It’s not funny.”

“I know.”

“Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you , baby. I’m laughing at the situation.”

“The situation is fucked up too.”

“I know.” I go from the unforgiving concrete to his lap. “And I already told you, I’m not letting any of this shit slide.”

It doesn’t cross my mind to question the sinister promise edging his tone when he kisses me briefly.

“I love you, Delilah.” He holds me under my chin, his hand snug against my throat. “You’re not an easy target. You’re not naive. And there’s nothing about you that isn’t worth protecting.”

His words knock the rest of my defenses down and when he places my glasses back on my face, my heart twists.

“I remember meeting you that night,” I tell him quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. And I know why I asked you for a hundred dollars.”

“Why?”

“I needed it to apply for my apartment with Indigo.” I sniff, wiping the last of this batch of tears. “I didn’t know the flowers I bought for my dad were going to cost that much. I met Indigo two days after you.”

“She gave you the money?”

“No.” I laugh. “We were both broke. That night, I found ten thousand dollars in my father’s safe I don’t think even Wes knew about.

I memorized the code when he used to make me sit in there with him all day.

I was surprised he didn’t change it after all those years, but it worked out.

I had enough to get my apartment and get settled before I looked for a job.

” In a way, I got at least a fraction of an inheritance.

I still had to rely on Weston as a co-signer because my credit was nonexistent at the time. Hell, I was nonexistent. When the apartment complex did a background check, they thought I was committing fraud because of how new my identity seemed.

“I knew that little minimum wage job wasn’t paying your bills,” he scoffs.

“It was .” I snort at the disbelieving look he gives me. “Not all of them but it was enough for me. ”

Adonis flexes his fingers around my neck before dipping his head to kiss me again. Then one more time.

“You never have to work again if that’s not what you want to do.” He stares at me so intently my eyes water from trying to maintain his gaze. “You never gotta do anything you don't want ever again, baby. This is your world, Delilah. I’m just happy I get to live in it. Let me make it easy for you.”

“You can’t fix me, Adonis.” Even though I appreciate the effort, I have to be honest. “I’m going to have a lot of days like this.”

“I don’t want to fix you because I don’t see you as broken, Delilah. You already saved yourself, I just want to make the rest of your life calm. That’s it, that’s all I want.”

“I’m not a calm person, Adonis.”

He smiles. It’s reluctant, just like that first day but no less mesmerizing. “You think I don’t know that? You’re a menace, but you’re mine.”

My nose scrunches at his deadpan expression and he runs his thumb over my cheek.

“You shot me and I’m still here. Safe to say I lack any sense of self-preservation when it comes to you.”

“Adonis, please. That bullet barely scraped you.”

“Victor had to give me stitches.”

Laughter chases away the last of my tears and I find him looking at me with tender affection covering his handsome face.

“I can’t wait to show you how good it can get.” His fingers trail over my hairline, pushing back the strands that had fallen in my face. “Just give me a chance to prove that to you.”