Page 10 of God of War

Delaney

Eighteen Years Old

There’s a kink in my back. I groan, muscles spasming up my spine, as I sit up in bed. Eighteen years old and I’ve already ruined my body with manual labor.

Ruined.

The thought makes me snort ruefully. Del Jackson’s plenty ruined already, like I needed another reason for the list.

I lift my arms and gently twist from side-to-side, stretching out that sore spot that’s been bothering me. The culprit could be one of two things: those super-sized bags of fertilizer I was lugging the other day, or that night I spent trying to sleep on a park bench. That was fucking uncomfortable, to say the least.

The alarm on my phone trills and I reach over to silence it, wrenching my back in the process. I hiss in pain and collapse back onto my thin mattress. I can’t afford to take a day off work, not even for this.

Lilly comes home in two weeks. That’s fourteen days of cash I can still add to my hidden stash. I can only hope it will be enough to get us the hell out of here.

Suddenly, my bedroom door slams open. Fear clenches my heart. I hadn’t bothered to flip the deadbolt last night. He wasn’t going to be home, so why would I?

But it’s not him.

“Get the fuck out, Aaron,” I grunt. I yank my blankets up to my chest, knowing he’s already searching for the outline of my tits through my t-shirt.

Aaron Flores leans against the doorframe and smirks, his hands going to his thick utility belt. He always seems to be wearing his deputy uniform, like he thinks it gives him superpowers or something. I think it just makes him an even bigger asshole than he usually is.

“Mornin’, Del,” he drawls. “Heard your alarm and thought you might have slept through it. Wouldn’t want you to be late for work.”

“How kind of you. Now get the fuck out.”

Aaron takes a step into my room and looks around. He taps one of the wind chimes hanging by my closed window. I usually find the noise comforting, but right now it grates on my nerves.

Deputy Aaron Flores is undeniably good looking. Smooth warm-brown skin, thick biceps and a charming too-white smile. But his heart is black as coal. Probably the reason Dad took such a shine to him when he joined the Sheriff’s Department.

“Your old man thought you might need a ride to work,” he says. “I’d love to give it to you.”

He puts slimy emphasis on give it to you and I force myself not to shudder. My only comfort is that Aaron has always been a pest, but he’s never actually tried anything.

He’s never come in my room before either…

Taking a deep breath to steel myself against the twinge in my back, I swing off the mattress and stand. Aaron’s glassy eyes immediately drop to my bare legs.

“When did you turn eighteen again, Del?”

“When did you break up with Isabelle, Aaron?”

Those dark eyes lift, locking with mine, and his lips curl in contempt, a snarling rage bubbling under the surface. He steps closer — so close that I can smell eggs on his breath, eggs his girlfriend probably cooked for him before he drove here.

“One of these days, your old man is going to get tired of you, Del, and when he does…”

His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. My insides shudder, shrivel, and die.

“Get. The Fuck. Out.”

Thankfully, he does. At the door, he eyes my deadbolt and taps it knowingly with one finger.

“Cute,” he says, that ugly, superior smirk making another appearance.

As soon as he steps into the hall, I dart forward and slam the door shut. Sliding the deadbolt home, I allow myself a deep breath.

“Two weeks,” I mutter to myself. “Just two more weeks.”

---