Page 36 of Deviant Illusions

My eyes close and I blindly stretch out for the mask that’s part of my new uniform. Fitting it over my head, I breathe. I breathe because that is easy, and my mind knows how to do that without questioning anything else.

Three days. All I have to do is make it through the three days of X’s traveling club and then I can pick up my confusing life and find somewhere else to live. These three days are turning out to be my lifeline and I stand, ready to be the Delilah who knows what the fuck she’s doing.

17

KANE

There are two people I need to avoid. Neither of them leave me alone when they’re not directly in front of me. I blink up at the penthouse ceiling. Niko’s shit is still here, and it must be old because his motorbike helmet is in the corner when he hasn’t ridden his bike in years.

I still allow the false comfort that the guarded building offers. Rowan and Lennox have both made it clear that they’re not afraid of the criminal families I’m employed by. But the reality can’t sink in. If it does, then I’m always going to be within their reach.

My own screams travel through time and fucking haunt me as I continue watching the ceiling. They get louder with each blink. Each beg and fucking cry echoes around my skull until I can’t even hear my own breathing.

I should end it.

It’s a thought I’ve had multiple times and failed on carrying through because my guardian angel is a cunt who only ever appears when I take back control and attempt to end my life. It doesn’t stop anyone else causing pain. Only me. The fucker has a vendetta against me, and I know better than to close my eyes togive the memories the opportunity of adding visual reminders to the auditory shit plaguing me.

If I go to Delilah, then I’ll have something else to focus on. She makes it pause and she’s afraid of me. Fear is good. Being the one who instills it is even better.

But I can’t.

If I go to her, I’ll fuck her.

If I fuck her, I’ll fall back into her trap and the fear I need won’t be there. I’ll be her little bitch again, ready to do whatever she needs and a slave to her every whim.

So I don’t move as I force my heart to slow down. Blowing out all the air in my lungs, I hold myself still and count to thirty before I allow myself to inhale. The repetitions make me lightheaded, but I continue them to remind myself that I’m in control. Organs work without any interference butIcan control them. I can stop my breathing whenever the fuck I want.

The power over my lungs doesn’t filter into my limbs as I blindly pick up my phone. The ceiling blurs as I enter the code and then Delilah is in front of me on an old recording. She’s so fucking mesmerizing as she walks through the house we shared in only one of my hoodies. I focus on her, and it silences the screams despite the fact she’s looking forhim. Everything was forhim.Her playing the piano, the way she practiced cooking, how she’d stand in the closet and carefully choose her clothes that I’d selected. But it was forhimbecause Asher was who she was married to. I was hidden. The irony is that the most deceptive mask I wore was a mental one. The gas mask, bird mask, the clown, all of those were me. Without them, as Asher, it washim.

I actually thought that she’d piece it together and tell me to go fuck myself. That she knew me so deeply that as soon as she opened her eyes in that hospital, she’d know I wasn’thim.

Pushing my arm under my head, I bring her closer and talk to her—to a version of her anyway.

“I miss you, my pretty girl. Some days, most days to be honest, I wonder what would have happened if I kept you as mine from the first day I met you. If you chose me instead of him, what would our life be like? You’d still be my wife, but it would be something that we both remember instead of me signing the papers while I waited for you to wake up.”

My eyes droop and I blink as my head falls back over the armrest of the sofa.

“I miss someone knowing me and not being alone. I’ve been alone for so long that I don’t think I can be around other people anymore.”

My vision blurs through the small gap between my lashes. But she’s still there, right in front of me, behind the bars of my lashes.

“It hurts, a soul deep ache that goes when I’m with you…”

Something smooth and cold hits my face and I jump up. The coffee table skids across the floor and my knee throbs, but I quickly sit on the floor. Pulling my knees up, I wrap my arms around my calves and make sure the backs of my ankles are pressed to my ass.

The buzzing comes next.

My muscles seize in time with the high-pitched sound getting closer.

Three doors opening after one another.

One more door and they’ll be here.

Just one.

The control I found over my lungs is ripped from me as they refuse to work in an attempt to prevent what’s about to happen.

But there isn’t aclang.Buzzing fills the air.

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