“And if she is? Are you willing to accept that and move on? Or will you continue looking for excuses to let that brutal side of yourself out to play?”
* * *
I’d normally returnto my office at this time of day, but I wouldn’t get a moment’s work done with Delilah on my mind. Lauren’s little speech did nothing to ease the knot I’d carried in my gut all day.
I have to stop things with her. I have no idea how.
And I don’t want to.
When I enter the apartment, the pair of women who normally clean during the day are still wrapping up their work. They jump like they’ve been electrocuted at my sudden entrance. “We’re almost finished,” one of them babbles, and the other nods.
“I’ll stay out of your way.” They’re in the kitchen. I’ll go to my room. I’m waiting for Delilah’s return. I need to see her. I need to know she’s here, locked up, away from anyone she might be able to hurt. If she’s capable of it, anyway.
On my way past the kitchen table, a pair of scissors catches my eye. They’re the only thing lying there, shining against the polished wood.
One of the cleaners notices me studying them. “I found them under the mattress in the guest room while I was changing the linens.” It comes out sounding like an apology, delivered with eyes downcast.
Son of a bitch.
“Thank you for setting them aside,” I offer, with what little calm I still possess, while inside my skull, there’s nothing but a raging fire. My hands close around the back of the nearest chair. “Did you say you’re almost finished?”
“Just about.”
“Why don’t we call it done for today? I’m sure everything’s fine.”
She looks at the chair, or rather at the way my hands squeeze the back of it. “Okay. Thank you.” It comes out as little more than a squeak, and within moments, I’m alone.
The chair splinters when I pick it up and throw it to the floor. “Fuck!” I scream at the empty apartment.
Scissors. I don’t know where she got them. I only know she was hiding them. For what? To use on whom? Not on me—she has to know better than to try it, even while I’m asleep. I haven’t had a night of deep sleep in as long as I can remember. She could try, but she’d end up with those fuckers buried in her instead.
On Aspen?
And they were here, in my apartment, for who knows how long. I completely missed it. She could’ve carried them with her in the halls and stabbed Aspen.
Lauren’s voice rings out in my head, barely rising over the chaos.Are you making this up to be angry with her? How do you know they weren’t meant for self-defense?
I’m sure if I were to ask, that would be the excuse she’d give. That’s why I’m not going to bother asking. I’m going to show them to her before…
What? What am I going to do?
I can see myself holding them to her throat. Watching up close as her eyes bulge, then fill with tears. As the color drains from her face. As she struggles to stop trembling for fear of driving the blades into her own flesh by mistake.
Is this what Lauren meant about using her as an excuse to let my darker side out to play? Why am I bothering to ask myself? Of course, it is. And it’s damn tempting. Making her hurt. Feeling her tears hit my skin. The look in her eye when she understands her life belongs to me.
I don’t want to be that man anymore. Right? I’m not sure now. Not when the evidence of her lies and schemes is in front of me.
She’ll be back any minute. I have to make a decision. Do I confront her? I can’t avoid it, nor do I want to. It would be irresponsible to let her go on thinking she’s got me fooled. I have to put an end to this.
I close my hand around the cool metal. How will she react when she sees me holding them? I want to savor her fear, the moment of realization when she knows she’s been bested.
She’s here. My heart thunders in my chest, adrenaline racing through my veins.
I clutch the metal handle tighter.
The knob turns.
I raise the scissors, so they’ll catch her eye immediately.