Page 39 of Delivered to the Devil

I slip further into it, feeling the gentle lap on my breasts. A bit further and it touches my chin. A bit further...

Someone moves behind me, quickly and suddenly. Arms snap around me, dragging me up to sit. I try to slip back down, wanting—needing—to merge with the water. But I’m stuck above the surface. Stuck on the bridge, stuck with the pain.

So I disappear again, and everything repeats itself. The fading sun, the sharp light above me, and a soft glow in the darkness.

CHAPTER 18

“Just Pretend”

by Bad Omens

Rebecca

Someone calls for me. It’s persistent and loud. I struggle to ignore it, but it keeps pushing, threatening to break the veneer that keeps me safely tucked into darkness.

A thud rings out, and my cheek tingles. Like a fly in the morning. I swat in front of me, not wanting anything to pull me from this nothingness. But the thud returns, this time with a mild sting and a sharper sound. A voice accompanies it, dogged and intrusive, threatening to break my shield.

I try to turn away, but something stops me, and another sting blooms on my cheek. Then I hear the voice. “Rebecca,” it calls from a distance. It’s like two conspiring evils, the voice and the sting.

Someone hauls me up to sit on the edge of the bed. I try to fight it, but my attempt is feeble. Then the same person is shaking me.

It all seems far away, like it happens to another person. My cheek flares up, but the pain isn’t mine. But when a sharp sound brings another flare of pain, the sensation moves closer.

Someone is slapping me, I realize.

One more blow has my head flying to the side, but another hand catches it. This hand is gentle, unlike the one hitting me, but it’s just as big and warm, like it belongs to the same person. Again, nothing makes sense. Gentle and cruel don’t go together.

The cruel hand smacks me into the gentle one again, and this time, a sharper burn blossoms on my cheek, demanding a reaction. I bite down on my lips and groan, but refuse to open my eyes.

“Rebecca!” someone calls again. The sound is distant yet all too clear.

Shaking my head, I refuse to go to it.

A deep, familiar voice repeats my name, and now it’s closer, almost penetrating the fog. “Rebecca,” it demands while hands shake my body. “Look at me!” A loud smack makes my cheek flare up. This time, the pain is mine. Real and palpable, sharp and loud. But it’s not just in my cheek. It’s everywhere. My entire body is throbbing, my inner walls aching, my throat raw. And I’m bone-tired.

I want to curl up in a ball and sob. Disappear again.

“Look at me!” the voice demands.

I lift my heavy eyelids and stare into a pair of gray eyes. Thick brows, one dissected, enhance the familiar gaze, but the features I know as smooth and impassive are taut with deep furrows across the forehead and lips set in a straight line.

“Please, just let me be,” I beg, my voice barely audible.

“No!” Hands shake me. “Stay here!”

My eyes slide shut, and fingers gently wrap around my chin.

“Stay here with me,” the voice repeats, now almost a whisper. A plea.

Like with the hands, the rough voice and the imploring tone don’t go together. It can’t be right.

I open my eyes again, and the air whooshes from my lungs as I stare into a tender set of gray eyes—soft and almost afraid. Theconcern is so real that tears gather in my eyes. I can’t remember the last time anyone looked at me like this.

It’s not just my body that feels again. It’s my whole being. My throbbing muscles and my aching soul.

“Why couldn’t you just let me be?” I say with a trembling voice.

“Because I want you here,” Janos says with a grave earnestness that lingers in everything from his deep gaze to the way he clutches my hand. Yet I don’t believe it. I might have been far gone, but I haven’t forgotten his betrayal. It’s branded into me. I hardly remember what he did, but I know he betrayed me like the dirty little whore I am.

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