Page 13 of Devious Delusions

It haunts me and I’m not the cause, just collateral damage that was in Delilah’s path.

I push those thoughts aside as my phone rings for the third time. Niko’s name is on the screen, no doubt another bullshit job so he can check in and make sure I’m not going off the deep end like the other times. It’s his way of looking out for me since my family abandoned me, and heworriessince he’s learnt of Delilah’s condition.

Delilah pauses with her fork mid-twirl in her pasta as her eyes dip down to the screen. The blasé tone is bullshit, and the joke doesn’t detract from her jealousy. “Do you have a mistress I’ve forgotten about?”

“No mistress,” I say, watching her eyes narrow as I take a sip of my drink. “Would you care if I had?”

Her eyes widen and she slightly pulls her head back as though what I’ve asked is crazy. Primly setting her cutlery down, she works around her plate, making sure that the glass is in the correct place. It always has to be in reach. Not so far that there’s a gap between the rim of her plate and not too close that she’d knock it when she gets animated and starts talking with her hands flying in every direction.

Once she’s happy with the placement of the dishware, she locks those eyes that captivated me at six years old on me and says evenly, “I know I don’t have a right to demand anything from you, given my issues”—her eyes dim and her throat worksaround her gulp—“but I would have an issue if you cheated on me.”

I nod and start eating as she assesses me. There’s no outburst as her eyes track my movements until her hard stare is solely fixed on my lips. Delilah and I have always been toxic. She infected me and she loved the fireworks of pressing my buttons. In turn, I began loving everything that reflected that spark back at me.

But I try to change that habit and force the answer out. “It’s not something you ever have to worry about. You’ve been everything for me since we were kids, and it hasn’t changed now.”

Her smile lights up her face and she begins eating again. The small smirk takes me back twenty years as she copies me. “You don’t have to worry about it either.”

Because the person you were fucking is dead.

I don’t say it. As far as this Delilah is concerned, I should be unaware of her fucking both brothers and hopping between our beds. It doesn’t matter how many years it’s been, it will always feel like it has just happened. The image of her wrapped around my brother is engrained in my memory. Jealousy and a hurt ego don’t die with the person, they just get buried under the grief and resentment.

I swallow down the bitterness as my phone rings again. Her eyes dart to the screen but there’s no jealousy behind them. “You can answer. I’ve probably kept you away from work for too long.”

I answer the call at the table to stop her becoming suspicious and Niko’s voice is full of laughter. “Did I disturb you, Romeo?”

“No, what do you want?”

Delilah attempts to hide the way she’s focusing on the call when she can’t hear shit and shifts in her seat.

“I’ve got a job for you. Toronto is still MIA, so you can use his alias as long as you don’t fuck it up.” The line mutes entirelyand I know better than to think he’s left the call. He’s most likely moving so the sounds of his family aren’t picked up. Or his latest victim has woken up. It comes back again as he asks, “Are you thinking about quitting?”

Like fuck I’ll quit the only thing that has allowed me a release in life. Two people have dragged me out of the mental pit during the Delilah episodes. Uncle Lennox has fucked off to parts unknown and I know better than to expect him to ever materialize again. But Niko has taken over the role of a brother, a confidante, and even if I didn’t owe him, I’d still do the messy jobs he has no time for.

“Not yet. Send me the details and I’ll fix it,” I say and end the call.

Hopefully it’s a job close by so I don’t have to leave Delilah alone. But she speaks before I can. “Will you be traveling for work, or do you do all your security stuff remotely?”

The details come through and I answer as my body goes on alert. “I’ll be away for two days. I can cancel it.”

She’s going to end up doing something stupid or attempting to run again if she’s left on her own. I’ll come back to an empty house with the door wide open and she’ll wrap herself in danger without anyone there to oversee her.

There’s no chink in her confidence though. “I’ll be fine. I saw the art room you set up for me, so I’ll be able to get lost in that for a while.” She smiles at me, full of light, before she adds, “You never know, I might be the next Michelangelo by the time you come back.”

The soft notesof a haunting melody flow through the house. It doesn’t take me long to find Delilah when all I have to do isfollow it. I used to love watching her play the piano when her parents would roll her out at their parties to gloat amongst their friends. Each time it was accompanied by my own parents complimenting her and they were unable to contain their excitement at the thought of her joining our family one day.

This is the first time she’s playing solely for me, without me having to ask, and I stop at the threshold of the studio I built to her exact specifications. The grand piano sits in the middle, rows of books insulate her forming an open circle, and the open space allows the maximum amount of light through. It makes her hair even more golden as the protégé sits in one of my t-shirts and a pair of fluffy socks, playing for her own contentment.

She’s lost to the keys and doesn’t hear me approach. It causes her to startle as I dip down and press my lips to her neck. A slow smile takes over her face as she looks over her shoulder at me and whispers, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Who else would it be?”

The music stops and she leans back to look up at me as she teases, “I could have a secret admirer.”

Taking the seat beside her on the bench with my thighs either side of it, I face her and hold her hips. She can’t escape me, and she doesn’t want to as she leans into me. There’s nothing but joy on her face and I suffer the same affliction I’ve always had of losing myself in Delilah.

My thoughts, my motivations, my responsibilities—they all disappear as soon as she gives me her full attention. But she makes it better and worse as she combs her fingers through my hair and turns to straddle the bench. Her thighs are directly on top of mine. The weight brings with it a memory of a time we were in this exact same position while she screamed my name and tried to play one-handed.

She reads my mind and shuffles closer to wrap her arms around me. The need for touch isn’t new, but I’ve gone so longwithout it that I instantly freeze. Delilah doesn’t give a fuck about my reaction and squeezes as she kisses below my jaw. The same place she always used to when she’d sneak into my bed.

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