Page 99 of Injustice and Absolution

“Go to my happy place...” I whisper.

Backing me up into the wall, he lets go of me then places his forearms next to my head, effectively boxing me in.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Delilah,” he spits through gritted teeth, his face dangerously close to mine. “The question isn’t will I force you to do something against your will. It’s will I continue to put up with your blatant, baseless accusations that call to question my morals and my honor.”

His eyes can no longer hide the soul I’ve mangled with my unintended allegation. Before I can summon an ounce of an apology, his next words steal my breath and leave me speechless.

“I’ve never had someone hurt me as much as you just did.” With a tightness in his stare and a sneer on his lips, he’s angry in a way that scares me more than I’ve been in a long time. “Go home. I can’t even fucking look at you.”

Slowly, he backs away from me, not tearing his eyes from mine. I yell at myself to move, to say something, to signal to him somehow, offering him a silent apology. But my entire body feels like it’s shutting down.

As he leaves the room, I’m left to crumble, alone. Sinking to the floor, my chest finally moves but only to try to suck in the air Drew stole from the room when he left. As my lungs work overtime, my head spins, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Crawling to the trash can under his desk, I make it milliseconds before emptying my lunch into its depths. My tears and my drool both fall carelessly into the darkened pit below, and I wish it was large enough to swallow me too.

When I no longer feel like I’m going to retch, I run the back of my shaky hand across my mouth and sit against the wall.

I’ve been here before... Several times... Even as recently as just a week ago. I recognize the parallels between that situation and this one.

Could old behaviors be to blame? Am I sabotaging my—and Drew’s—happiness because I don’t feel worthy enough to receive it?

To receive his love?

Am I succumbing to someone else’s desires simply to keep them happy?

To keep myself safe?

This is something I thought I’d long since worked past after coming to live with Royce. But my soul surges, screaming to give in to Drew. To keep him content by any means possible. And I realize the progress I believed I’d made over the years—over these past few months even—was bullshit.

I’ve never truly healed from that part of my life.

All the negative traits and behaviors I exhibited in the name of survival have been lying just beneath the surface, waiting to exploit my weaknesses and set themselves free.

As I linger in Drew’s office, unable to face him or anyone else on my way out, I question everything I thought I knew about my new life.

And where I went wrong.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ROYCE

For the hundredth fucking time today, I talk myself out of making a trip back to Harrisburg and waiting outside of Spotlight for a glimpse of her.

To check if she’s okay.

To make sure she’s happy.

To see if that asshole can put a genuine smile on her face.

Chainz contacted me after our meeting to let me know they wouldn’t be making it to the strip club until the weekend due to some other business they had going on. I finally got his report yesterday, and he said he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary while they were there.

He also said Delilah was their server, and she appeared quiet but happy. He saw her and Drew together a few times, and it was all smiles between the two of them.

I thanked him and left it alone, but I still don’t believe it. I’m desperate for the footage from the cameras outside of Mathieu.

Hound has reached out to me a few times to let me know he hasn’t had a chance to check it out yet but that he hasn’t forgotten about me.

I want to be angry about the delays, but I’ve learned a time or two not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

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