Page 52 of Mine to Love
“Mommy?” Delilah’s screech of a scream keeps me from escaping into the safety of my mind as Clive spins me around to face him while pinning me up against the brick wall of the building next door. She sees. She sees us as he presses one arm across my chest, holding me in place. She sees as he wraps his fingers around my neck, digging them deep into my skin. All the times I wondered what she observed and now there’s no question. But if she sees us, maybe someone else will.Witnesses, remember.There are always people in the street, for better and for worse. If only the damn Christmas music wasn’t so loud, and the decorations didn’t make the alleyways so obscure.
“Don’t…don’t come close,” I tell her, struggling to get the words out as Clive tightens his grip on my neck. I keep my eyes trained on him as fear swells inside me. My legs are heavy, and my arms are paralyzed as he looks at me, even more wicked than before. He growls as his eyes traipse up and down me, taking in my new clothes, expensive jewelry, and the makeup on my face. I look different to him, but inside I’m still the same Darcy I’ve always been. While that may mean something different to him and me, in this moment, his perception and mine feel all too similar.
He sees me as his prey, and I certainly feel like it. My lip quivers and my body shakes beneath him. I’ve always known if he found me, he’d kill me. And that thought, along with the look in his eye, has me trembling beneath him. I’m afraid. I’m weak. I’m?—
As I stare down the monster from my past who has always made me feel worthless, I realize something has changed. I have the courage to look at him. Not a fleeting glance. Directeye contact. I’m not ashamed anymore. I don’t believe the lies he once told me. I’m not helpless, hopeless, or unlovable. And, despite my predicament, I am no longer his victim. I just have to hold out a little longer until?—
As Clive’s eyes bore into mine, there is an ice in his glare and in his touch. His hands burn my skin in a way I never noticed before. Perhaps because I finally know what it is to be touched with love. “You think you can take my daughter away from me? You think you can escape me?” He grits his teeth as he spits the words out. As he does, he grabs hold of my coat’s lapel, pressing harder against my chest. It hurts so much I know his touch will leave a bruise. Though, as he pulls me toward him and shoves me back against the brick wall, I know I’d be lucky to make it through this with just a few bruises.
I cry out as my head connects with the bricks. It’s then that a new pain takes precedence, along with a new fear. Clive is smart. He’s always been smart. He came here for a reason and therearewitnesses, at least potential witnesses. Whatever happens next will be quick, unlike all the times at the cabin. He doesn’t have time to waste. And I don’t have time to wait.
In this position, I’m too vulnerable. I can’t run, and I’m not strong enough to overpower him. Though, I have to try. Fighting through the fear paralyzing my limbs, I lift my knee and jab him in the balls. He hunches over in pain and his grip of me loosens, but not enough. Before I can escape him, he grabs hold of me and shoves me against the wall once more. Leaning toward me, he’s so close it looks like we’re kissing to anyone who may pass.
“I thought the South was known for its hospitality. But it seems you’ve lost all your manners,” he taunts. Before I even have time to respond, Clive pulls me toward him and then repeatedly barrels my body into the bricks. It all happens so fast that I don’t even know if I scream. The little awareness I haveis used to brace myself and protect my head. But, as the blows keeping coming, I fail.
With a disorienting strike, my vision blurs, and pain courses through my skull. It’s enough to leave me unable to ward off anymore of Clive’s attacks. He continues until I feel blood dripping through my hair, down my neck, and across my face. No longer able to stand, he releases me, and I fall to the ground amongst the rubbish. Unable to see, Delilah’s screams and cries fill my ears, along with the sharp sounds of trumpets.
“You will die for this,” I somehow manage to say.
“You will die first.” Clive’s voice is faint, and then there is nothing but silence, darkness, and an echo through my mind that says,I love you, Delilah.Mommy loves you. But those words aren’t ones I’m sure I’ll ever say again as the echo fades away along with my consciousness.Don’t forget me.
47
Quickly,I log in to my personal profile on the computer and trackers for myself, Darcy, Delilah, and even Ru pop up. There’s also one for Ariana, but that’s unimportant right now. Zane, Xander, and Damon watch the large screens on the walls that display my current view. They speak in hushed tones as they quickly spot the same abnormality that I do.
Darcy and Delilah are separated. That doesn’t make sense. My brows crinkle in confusion as I click on Darcy’s tracker, pinpointing her exact location. Both Darcy’s cellphone and necklace trackers ping in the same spot, letting me know her person and possessions are in the same place—an alley off Bienville Street. She is still, too still, while Delilah is moving at a pace that suggests she’s no longer on foot, but in a car moving toward the interstate.
My heart feels empty and my stomach sinks as I imagine the worst. But I push through my thoughts just long enough to confirm my suspicions. A few more clicks of the keyboard and I’m able to access the nearest city surveillance camera to Darcy. That’s when I see her—lying dangerously still on the cold ground amongst trash and empty beer bottles. No one sees her and ifthey do, they don’t stop to help. How long has she been lying there? Is she breathing? Is she—? Is Delilah okay?
Bottling all my questionsandemotions, I move toward the door—without hesitation—barking orders all the way down the stairs. “Damon, Zane, follow Delilah. Don’t intervene unless absolutely necessary.He’s mine. Xander, analyze the footage surrounding the attack and send me the highlights. I know who did this, but I still want confirmation, timestamps, everything and anything. And then, wipe it. I don’t want any evidence out there that could lead back to us when Clive Cunningham mysteriously never makes it home.”
As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I pull out my phone and send four text messages. The first is to Dr. R, telling him to meet us at the alleyway. I don’t know what injuries Darcy has sustained, assuming—hoping—they are just injuries. She may need immediate care. The next text is to Aidan. With Killian and Milo still on their way back from Montana, I need extra hands. I tell him to send a driver to the alley. One with enough skill to get Dr. R, Darcy, and me across the causeway in record time. And, finally, I text Ana and Ariana and tell them to head to the Amato estate.
My first priority is making sure Darcy is safe and not… I can’t even think the word. But my second priority is Delilah. And I know better than to leave Darcy alone in a house with a man she’s never met before. Ana and Ariana will stay with her while I retrieve our daughter and finish the sick fuck dumb enough to try to take her—them—away from me.
“And Xander,” I say, just before reaching the door to the exterior. “Find out who else is spying on us for the recently departed Serena Santos. This was her doing, but she didn’t do it alone. This is weeks, months in the making. Who would’ve had access to me during that time? Witnessed my movements or interactions with Darcy? I want a name, and I want it tonight.”
Each one of them nods, acknowledging their tasks. Then, they split in different directions, getting to work. Now, all that’s left is me. I falter for a second, only a second, as I consider what I may find in that alley. I consider the tragic possibility that will absolutely shatter me.
If Darcy is dead, then I give up. There is no life without her, no light, no hope. And, because this isn’t the first time I’ve run head-on into battle to be crushed by the loss of someone I love, my body remembers the fear, the guilt, and the utter brokenness in a way that is all-consuming. It’s crippling to where I know if I don’t run now, I’ll never make it to her. And so, with my pistol strapped to my hip, I shove the door open and run. I run as fast as I ever have, focusing only on putting one foot in front of the other—one heartbeat at a time—until Darcy’s blonde hair, stained with blood, comes into view.
My ears ringand my eyes gloss over as I fight to remain present. Dr. R moves about mine and Darcy’s bedroom, tending to her as she lay unconscious. When I found her, she was unresponsive but had a pulse. I mindlessly pop my knuckles as the memory flashes through my mind, along with the echo of my cries.
“Please, please don’t leave me. Please come back to me. There are always more chapters, remember? Our story has just begun. It can’t end now, not like this, not because of him.”
Those words and that memory—of her lying lifeless in my arms, her pale skin stained red—I’ll never be able to erase it from my mind. But no matter how horrific, I cling to the mental images and memories of her as desperately as I do her soul, praying she does not depart this realm for the next. Whetheror not my memories stand to haunt me is yet to be seen. But I would rather be haunted by her than to forget even a second.
My body riddled with emotion, tears drip silently down my cheeks as my mind plunges into a spiral. On the exterior, I am stoic. I am Gio. But, inside, I am at risk of combusting. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Not her. Anyone else except her.Take me!After everything I’ve done, I don’t deserve to be here anymore.Take me, God.Take me instead and give her her second chance. She deserves it. Delilah deserves it.Delilah.Thoughts of her pull me out of the spiral, out of my place of pity.
I can’t give up yet, not until she’s safe. But as Darcy comes into view once more, I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave her. I don’t know how I’m supposed to move a single inch, knowing that at any moment she could slip away forever, and I wouldn’t be here. “Fuck.” I ball my fists, desperate to unleash the chaos inside me. But I won’t disturb her healing space or disrespect the home we share. It will always be ours. No matter what happens, this is her place. This is her home, as is my heart.
It’s then that my eyes flick to the picture on my nightstand. It’s of Darcy and Delilah on the swing on the back porch. Delilah is asleep, leaning against her mom while Darcy leans down and kisses her amongst her curls. It’s one of my favorite photos of them because it reveals the purity of love. How simple and beautiful it is to feel it and offer it. How tragic it is to lose it. But I haven’t lost anything yet. Not really. But if I don’t get Delilah back, I will lose everything. Because, even if Darcy survives, she will never be the same. She will never forgive herself or me. She will have lost her light. And, I will have lost not only my daughter but her. No. Our family isn’t broken yet, but if I don’t get my shit together, it will be.
“Gio?” I flinch as Ariana comes up beside me and places her hand on my arm. I’d forgotten she and Ana are even here. “Did you hear what Dr. R said?”
“What?What?” I turn between her and Dr. R with wide eyes and wet cheeks. Dr. R removes his glasses as he approaches. He sighs and I’m not sure if it’s in defeat or a sign that we’ve made it through the worst. “What’s happening? Tell me. Tell me now.”
“Breathe, son,” Dr. R assures me. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from biting his head off. Patience is not a limitless virtue, and I’ve officially reached my life’s quota. “She is stable. There was a laceration on the back of her head that is now stitched. I also found a minor fracture on the skull. Additionally, our scans reveal minor bruising and bleeding on the brain.”
