Page 71 of Eden's Deliverance

I can taste the rum on my tongue, but a unique flavor lingers alongside it that I’m not familiar with. I don’t usually drink bay breezes, so I can’t put my finger on what it is.

I can see, when I turn to look over my shoulder, two dark figures approaching one another in the front yard. Dario stands with his hands up in surrender, while the other person storms toward him with a raised fist.

I can hear them shouting over the distance. Dario apologizes over and over, pleading with the other person to believe there’s been a misunderstanding—switching between English and Italian in his frantic attempt to calm the situation. The other person speaks up, but it’s not just any voice.

I know that voice.

“Skylar!” I scream from the top of my lungs, but I’m too late. His fist strikes Dario’s cheek and sends him crashing to the ground.

On wobbly legs, I rush down the porch steps and reach the pair just as Skylar straddles Dario’s waist, hovering above him as he pounds relentlessly against hisface. A waterfall of blood pours from his nose and a cut on his brow, turning his gorgeous face into a Pollack painting.

With every ounce of strength I have left, I shove Skylar until he falls in the snow beside Dario’s lifeless body. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I cry, but he doesn’t answer so I turn my attention to Dario.

It takes a few minutes before he fully regains consciousness, but I stay by his side and help him to his feet when he’s able to stand. “I am sorry,bellezza.I did not know you had somebody else.”

I look up at him in confusion, my mind still spinning from the alcohol and impending panic attack threatening to surface. “I don’t—he’s not…” I can’t get the words out. I shouldn’t fucking have to. He shouldn’t even be here right now, and none of this should be happening. My eyes pan to Skylar who’s still sitting in the snow where I left him. “He’s mybrother.” I emphasize the word, making sure he’s looking directly into my soul when he hears me say it.

I want it to hurt.

Dario gets into his car after accepting a million apologies for Skylar’s erratic behavior, promising that he still wants to see me despite the unfortunate blow up. I don’t know if I believe him, but I’m not prepared to do any more mental gymnastics tonight.

I need to go to sleep and turn my brain off. This night has been a disaster, and only proves that I wasn’t meant to be getting into any new situationships.

I’m not ready, and I never will be until I let go of all my baggage.

Skylar included.

I don’t even acknowledge him as I return to the house, passing him without a second glance as I climb the porch stairs and fumble with the keyhole to the front door. It takes a few fruitless attempts, but when I finally get it open and stumble inside, I feel his presence behind me.

I don’t have the time for it, I don’t have the emotional maturity to deal with it, and I’m not in the right headspace to verbalize exactly how much I despise him at this very moment.

“This is me ch-checking in for the last time,” I mutter. “Close the fucking door on your w-ay out. I nev-er want to see y-your face again.”

When I reach the staircase, I have to brace against the railing because my head is spinning so badly. I’ve never had alcohol affect me this much, and I think sobriety is about to join celibacy at the top of my list of priorities.

“Your brother, huh?” he calls after me, but I take my first step and ascend the staircase, leaving him in my wake—where I intend for him to stay. “Scarlett! Don’t you dare walk away from me!”

The stairs suddenly shake from the weight of his footsteps trudging angrily behind me, but I react quickly enough to the brief tug on my sweater that I’m able to sprint up the last few steps and barricade myself behind my bedroom door. His fists pound against the wood on the other side, fighting me like he always does.

Always fighting.

The door flies open, catching me in the chest as it swings. Skylar doesn’t give me time to recover before his hands are on me in a familiar hold—one hand wrapped around my throat while the other finds purchase in my hair to restrain me. His choppy breath blows against the strands still hanging in my face, pushing them around as he pants against my brow.

His eyes squint as they study my own, his hands twisting my head towards the moonlight coming from my balcony door so he can see my face better.

“What did you take?” he asks, but I just shake my head. I only had a few drinks. When he realizes I’m telling the truth, he jumps to a more ridiculous conclusion. “He drugged you.”

“You have n-no idea what you’re talking about,” I scold. “I’ve been w-with him all night, he never gave me anything. I had a f-few drinks, that’s all.”

He walks us towards the door, leaving me no choice but to step back until my back collides and causes it to click shut. The hand around my throat tightens and lifts me to my toes, the pressure too much for my already-throbbing skull.

“No, Scarlett.Youhave no idea what you’re talking about or who you’re getting yourself involved with.” His eyes are cold as the winter air when he demands, “Stay. Away. From. Him.”

No matter how hard I push against his chest, he won’t let up. Every word is a struggle, but I have to say my piece.

“There you go, dic-tating again. You don’t o-own me,Satan, and you sure as h-hell don’t get to tell me what to do. We’re not to-gether, we’re not friends, so yeah. That just leaves you as my st-epbrother.”

Skylar tips his ear to his shoulder, parting his lips while he stares down at my mouth. “Do you always fuck your brothers?”

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