DELILAH
Where is Lucas, and what’s taking him so long?
I don’t even know how long it’s been. He said he’d be here in forty-five minutes, but I left my phone out in the hall like he told me to. I have no way of knowing what time it is, but it feels like hours have passed.
It doesn’t help that it’s so dark in here. It’s like a cave—the only light leaking in through the tiny gap under the closet door. The darkness is nice. Almost comforting.
I’ve been straining my ears, listening for any sounds coming from the rest of the house. It’s as quiet as a graveyard at midnight.
A tiny giggle of nervous energy bubbles up from my chest, and I press my mouth against my knee. A graveyard? Like the one Nathaniel will be in because I killed him.
My fingers are still a little stiff and sore from how tightly I was gripping the bookend when I hit him. It wasn’t until I dropped it on the floor that I even knew I grabbed it from the shelf when he came in.
And then I… what? I blacked out. Snapped. There was nothing to hold me back. Nothing to tell me I shouldn’t kill him. And the proof of that was—is—the dead man on the floor.
I remember staring down at the bookend, confused. Why was it covered in blood? There’s a hair on it, too, stuck in clumps. But why?
It’s his hair.
I hit him in the head with it.
I did this.
Blood dripped from the wound and rolled down the side of his face, soaking into his shirt. The dripping held my attention the longest, and suddenly, everything started to make sense.
Every droplet shone like rubies before plinking onto the floor. There was an entire puddle by the time my phone buzzed, thanks to Lucas’s call. The thought drags me back to the present.
Why isn’t he here yet? What if something bad happens, and he can’t make it? What if there’s an accident and nobody else in the world knows where I am? I could die in this closet, breathing in mothballs.
Or I could die outside the closet when somebody shows up and drags me out and does the same thing to me that I did to Nathaniel. Only I doubt they would make it quick. If anyone finds out what I did before Lucas arrives, I’m as good as dead. What’s taking Lucas so long? I need him. He’s the only person who can help me now. The only person who’d want to.
I killed a man. He’s lying down the hall not far away from where I’m hiding, in front of the vanity and that disgusting outfit he thought I would wear. The thought scares me—and thrills me. Something roars inside my head, something grim and satisfied.
I saved myself.
I doomed myself.
Icy realization skitters its way down my spine. I’m nobody. I’m not going to get away with killing a man like Nathaniel. My chest is too tight, my heart’s racing much too fast, and I think I’m going to faint if this doesn’t stop.
I’m a murderer. Nobody’s going to care that I only did it to protect myself. They’ll all say I had it coming or something like that. It’s how people in this world think. I’m a nobody who murdered a powerful man when I should’ve given him what he wanted. That’s how they’ll see it.
Lucas! I need him. I’m rocking back and forth with my teeth chattering. I can smell Nathaniel’s blood on me, the metallic odor running alongside the mothballs. I gag a little but hold back the bile before it can spill out.
Blood rushes in my ears, and that, mixed with the heavy thumping from my heart, drowns out everything else.
I’m going to hell for what I did, aren’t I?
The closet door flies open like some unseen force is answering my question. The light from the hall is bleeding through. I turn my face away and cross my arms over the top of my head.
“No, no! I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident!”
“Delilah!”
Lucas’s shout cuts through my panic and sinks into my brain.
I blink away the spots in my vision, and his body comes into focus. He’s on one knee in front of me, half inside the closet. He pushes the hair away from my face with both hands and looks deep into my eyes.
His blue eyes shine like the sun glistening off the waves in the ocean.