Page 49 of Delta
“Yeah.” But it’s a lie. Because every second I sit here, every breath that passes, I can feel the hands of my torturers on me. It’s not Emma’s hand that was in mine—it was theirs.
It wasn’t her hand on my shoulder.
It’s a blade driving into my body.
No. No. Desperate for distraction, I push to my feet and cross over toward the bench where Emma’s sitting. Riley has draped a towel around her shoulders, and her eyes are closed, her breathing ragged. I take a seat near the bow, leaving some distance between me and Emma.
With the immediate threat past us, those voices in my head grow louder. I close my eyes and lower my head into my hands as Bradyn starts the motor and heads out farther into the ocean. The loud rumble of the engine isn’t enough to drown out the voices, but it is loud enough that no one can hear the hammering of my heart—and for that, I’m grateful.
I step into the front door of my house, then move aside so Emma can walk in after me. Thanks to the flight home, she’s dry and wearing a pair of clothes Lani packed for her before we left to get her.
Delta sprints over to greet us, his tail wagging.
“Hey, handsome.” Emma leans down and pats him gently. She barely spoke the entire flight back, burdened by all that happened, but now she seems lighter. A bit more like herself.
“I’m going to check in with Kennedy and get the guest room set up; then I’ll be back,” Bradyn says before leaving the house. He’s coming back for Emma since she’ll be staying with him and Kennedy in their spare bedroom. She’s close to Kennedy, so I know she’ll feel comfortable there.
It’s what’s best, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish she could remain here. With me. So I can protect her. Except that has the chance of being more dangerous than anything she’s faced so far.
“Ash! There you are!” Emma squeals when her cat comes trotting out to see what’s going on. His back goes up, and she sinks to her knees. Within seconds, the cat is rolling around in front of her while she loves on him. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, baby.” She looks up at me. “Thank you for taking care of my cat.”
“There were drugs in your place. It didn’t seem right to leave him there just in case he got sick.”
“Thank you,” she says with a smile.
“Yeah.” I run a hand over the back of my neck, then head into the kitchen to feed Delta. With it being a quick rescue mission, we’d left the dogs here, so my mom fed him breakfast this morning, but he’s already acting like he hasn’t eaten in days rather than hours.
After filling the bowl with kibble, I wash my hands.
“His name is Ash?”
She smiles and nods as she cradles the cat. “My sweet boy.”
“I—uh—was calling him Foxtrot.”
She arches a brow. “Foxtrot?”
I shrug. “He’s fluffy. Fluffy starts with ‘F’. I was sticking with the phonetic alphabet naming convention…so Foxtrot.”
Emma laughs. “Foxtrot. I really like that. How about you? Ash Foxtrot Franklin?”
Desperate to do something to keep my focus off of her, I reach into the fridge for a bottle of water. “Want one?”
She nods and sets the cat aside to stand. Because I’m so afraid our fingers will brush and set off the charge inside of me, I put the water on the counter rather than hand it to her.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah.” I lean back against the counter and take a deep breath. As I do, Emma comes around into the kitchen and stops in front of me—keeping enough space that I don’t feel smothered, yet close enough that my heart rate increases.
Keep it together.
“I’m sorry, Dylan.”
“For what?”
“The fight. I had no right to blow up on you like that.”
“The figh—” And then I remember the day at the church. In reality, it was only a couple of days ago, yet it feels like lifetimes. “It’s fine.”
