Page 53 of Mine to Love
“Well, then what exactly doesstablemean because it sounds like she suffered severe head trauma? And I may not be a doctor, but I know head injuries can be life-altering, if not fatal.” I cross my arms over my chest as frustration threatens to overtake me.
“Yes, they can be. But, again, we’re talking about aminorfracture andminorbruising and bleeding. I expect that when she wakes, she’ll have all her faculties and will be able to resume her normal activities. She’ll be at a higher risk for headaches, and you’ll need to be on the lookout for dizziness. It’s also possible that if things don’t heal properly, she could experience seizures or other complications. In that instance, we’ll need to look at other treatment options. But, again, everythingshouldheal properly. It was a clean break. She’s young and healthy. And you know I offer the best care. Given the nature of the attack, this is an incredibly positive and, somewhat unexpected, outcome. I won’t say she was lucky because that’s insensitive. Butyouare lucky, sir. You will not lose her today.”
At that, Dr. R pats me on the arm and returns to Darcy’s bedside. She’s hooked up to several monitors and there’s an IV delivering her medication. Her head is also bandaged all the way around to protect her stitches.
So, that’s whatstablemeans. I pinch my eyes closed as fresh tears drip from them. As I sigh in relief, the heaviness of myheartache and worry leaves me. I didn’t lose her.I won’t lose her.I raise my hand and place it over my heart as it squeezes in my chest. I’d like to tell myself that the sharp ache was her spirit joining me, inhabiting the place where she knows she’ll be safe and loved until she returns to her own vessel.
When I open my eyes, Dr. R continues, “For now, the best thing for her is rest. So, I’ve placed her in a medically induced coma. A week, maybe longer, under the medication will reduce her brain activity, reduce the risk of swelling, and allow her to heal. I’ll remain here to observe her until she wakes and after she does, it could take several more months for the fracture on her skull to heal completely.”
I nod, knowing enough about fractures to know that’s normal. “Medically induced coma,” I repeat to myself. That means I won’t hear her voice or see her open her eyes or know if there are any further complications for an entire week, maybe longer. And Delilah’s trauma will only be extended as she waits as impatiently as I will for her mother to wake. She’s going to need me. She’s going to need everyone. It’s time I step up in a way I never have before. Of all the roles I’ve played, I’ve never been a dad, not really, not all by myself. But I won’t abandon Delilah. Perhaps focusing on her will make the time pass more easily. Though, as I observe the woman I love laying in our bed—the same bed we’ve read stories in, the bed we’ve made love in, the bed we’ve confessed our deepest feelings and darkest secrets in—I know none of this will be easy.
“Gio, the guys have a lock on Delilah’s location. Clive stopped at a motel on the outskirts of Hammond, presumably to stay the night before continuing north tomorrow. From what they saw, she appears to be in distress but unharmed,” Ariana says.
I nod once more and take a deep breath. “Give me the room,” I say then. Without hesitation, Ariana, Dr. R, and Ana leave me and Darcy to ourselves. Ana gives me a reassuring hug on herway out. As I hear the door click closed behind them, I find the strength to move my feet and head toward Darcy’s bedside.
Standing over her, I take her hand. The chill of her flesh forms a lump in my throat. She was cold when I found her, just as she was cold when I rescued her from those men on that bus. I imagine I’ll make it my mission to keep her warm for the rest of my life.
Remembering where she keeps the extra bedding, I head to the armoire and grab an extra blanket for her. Draping it over her, I lean down and kiss her hand. “I love you, Darcy Moretti. I love you more than lifeandthe death I would welcome if I ever lost you. You see, you’ve got this hold on me that makes me never want to live a moment without you. You are my greatest weakness and yet also my strength. Because, somewhere along the way, you made me realize I am more than my past and I want more for myself than the life that was forced upon me at fifteen. Somewhere along the way, you saved me.”
I kiss her once more and squeeze her hand. “You are mine. But the truth is, I think we were both made for each other. You, to teach me what love is, what it is to love and be loved. And I, to show you that you are worthy of the same love you give others and to protect you from anyone who would harm you.”
I stand then, feeling my stomach twist. Seeing her like this makes me feel like a failure all over again. I didn’t protect her. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry you had to face him. I’m sorry he hurt you. I’m sorry you were alone and scared and abandoned.” As the words pour out of me, I take in a sharp breath. “But you are safe now. And you are surrounded by people who love you. You aren’t alone and you never will be again. Now… Now, I’m going to go get our daughter. Delilah will be okay. I’ll take care of her. But she’s going to need her mom. So, rest well, my angel. And then, come back to her. Come back to us.”
With one last kiss, I put on the armor of darkness. I allow it to consume me, and in it, I find the strength to leave. I find the strength to finish this,him. And, I realize, my darkness isn’t something in need of vanquishing or cleansing. It’s a necessity in the world of evil men, a weapon to be controlled and wielded wisely.
As I leave the woman I love, I carry her with me and all the love she’s poured into me over the past several months. Somewhere in it, in her, I find love for the parts of myself I’ve never liked. They are necessary parts, worthy parts, the pieces of me that are going to bring our daughter back to us. How could I ever hate my darkness if it is the very thing that will bring me sunshine?
48
Darkness surroundsus and the moon hangs heavy in the sky as Damon and I approach Clive’s motel room wearing all-black and Calacas to hide our faces. Could he have picked a more sketchy, low-rate place to bring Delilah? I doubt it, but it helps us. The motel is at the furthest end of the exit, hidden from the road and other buildings by trees. There are only a couple of other cars in the parking lot and, from the looks of them, their owners probably aren’t the type to call the police. Zane is keeping watch, just in case.
As gravel crunches beneath my boots, I slip on my leather gloves and zero in on the doorknob. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I prepare to seek both my revenge and Darcy’s. It’s a shame I didn’t have time to grab my weapons from The Compound. But, as the muscles in my shoulders and back contract, I know my body is ready to deliver a deadly beating. Along with the tools of torment hidden in my cargo pants, I will make good on my promise to Darcy. Clive Cunningham will die a slow and tortuous death. But, first, Delilah.
I look to Damon, and he nods, letting me know he’s ready for exfil. And then, without missing a step, I kick through thedoor separating me from my sunshine. Wood splinters beneath my boot as Delilah’s scream reaches me. I enter the small beige room to find her sitting on the bed. The sight of her breaks my heart. Her face, already red and tear-stained from being snatched away from her mother, contorts in even more fear as she shrinks away from me. She doesn’t recognize me in my mask. It takes everything in me not to rip it off and go to her. But, as my eyes drift lower, finding her hands bound with the telephone cable and bruises shaped like fingerprints on her arms, there is but one sensation greater than to comfort her. And, that is, to destroy the man who hurt her.
Turning away from her, my leather gloves crack from the force of my grip as I move toward the bathroom. It’s the only other place Clive could be, since he isn’t in the bedroom. “Sunshine safe,” Damon says as Clive appears, bewildered and naked, in the doorway in front of me. My lips draw into a wicked grin at the sight of him and, without hesitation, I charge him.
The spineless man tries to lock himself in the bathroom. Father of the year, huh? But we already knew that. I kick the bathroom door before he can get it closed, storming into the room after him. He backs away, cowering near the toilet. “Please, I don’t have any money. The girl is enough, is she not?”
“What the fuck did you just say?” My eyes narrow at the audacity. You come all the way down here to take her away from her loving mother just to let her go that fucking easily? It makes me wonder why he wanted her in the first place. Originally, I thought he took her just to cause Darcy pain, but he left her for dead. And that’s when I realize taking Delilah was never about Darcy. He had another purpose for her, either to be his new victim or his new commodity. As the pieces of the wicked puzzle click into place, I lose it.
As my fist connects with the corner of his mouth, blood spews from his gums and he loses a tooth. Then, the uppercut I land has him falling backward. He catches himself in the perfect position for a dunk in the shitter. Literally, seeing as there is fresh excrement in the toilet that looks as if it hasn’t been cleaned since this decrepit joint opened.
Grabbing him by the back of the neck, I force him down, face first. “Eat it and I might have mercy.” It’s a lie. There is no mercy when it comes to my girls or anyone who would exploit a child. I force him down harder, pinning his arms behind his back. The sounds of tearful gags bring me joy. But not as much as what comes next.
Pulling the knife hidden in my waistband, I use it to carve Clive’s back in the same places he left marks on Darcy. A slice to the back and to the bum and then, I pierce his shoulder blade straight through. Clive screams and struggles against me. Shit and blood fling from his mouth. Letting go of his pity, he tries to fight back. But I don’t give him an inch. After everything he’s done to Darcy—overpowering her, raping her, verbally abusing her—I’m going to crush his ego as much as I crush his bones.
“How does it fucking feel, huh?” I ask, leaning all my body weight against him to keep him in place. My knife still lodged in his shoulder, I twist it. Blood seeps from his wounds, staining his skin. “How does it feel to be so weak, so powerless? So worthless? All the things you made her feel, all the things she never was, but you…you were born this tragic, weren’t you?”
I pull my knife from his shoulder and stab it through the back of his knee. It slices through the tissue and shatters the bone with ease. The blood-curdling scream he releases has me burying him deeper into his own shit. That is until I make use of another gadget. Releasing his arms, I pull out an electric collar that tightens with each shock. As the current becomes more intense, it simultaneously becomes harder to breathe. Slapping the collar on him like the bitch he is, I quickly issue the first four charges so that he is gasping for air in the same way she did.Tests state it’s survivable up to ten charges, but this won’t be the way Clive Cunningham dies. No, this is just for fun.
Dislodging the knife from his knee, I drag him out of the bathroom by his legs as the collar continues to elicit electric shocks and suffocating squeezes every twenty seconds. My gloves protect me from transferable electrocution. And by the time I get him on his knees in the main room, my hands are itching for a taste of his skin. “Who…are…you?Why?” He struggles to speak as I strike his head and gut in a two-punch blow.
“You’re as dumb as you are dead. Does nothing, nothing at all, come to mind that would warrant my oh-so-pleasant company? Are you even capable of acknowledging the pain you’ve caused?” Clive gasps as another shock leaves him shaking and writhing on the floor. It’s so intense he pisses all over the carpet. “Look at you, making a mess. You know, Darcy told me how you locked her in that closet, forcing her to remain in her own waste for hours while pregnant with the sweet little girl you were all too happy to sell off. She told me everything.”
Using my boot, I kick him in the side. The cracking sound lets me know I’ve broken a rib, maybe two. Clive wheezes, gasping for what little oxygen the collar allows him as I force him onto his back. Pressing my heel into his stomach, more crunching ensues as I look down upon him with disdain.
My heart races and I feel as if I could explode. I’m angry—angry because I know nothing I do will ever be enough to bring Darcy justice, to make him feel what she felt, or to make him acknowledge what he’s done. There isn’t enough time and, despite the darkness inside me, I don’t have it in me to cross certain lines. I want to tear him limb from limb. I want him to know what it feels like to be raped. But I can’t do it. What Icando is degrade him by taking away his weapon of choice and then finish him, leaving the rest of his punishment to the Devilhimself. He can serve his eternal sentence in Hell, reaping the consequences of his earthly actions.
