Cabin Fever

by Shani Greene-Dowdell et al.

  They were no longer telling her she wasn’t the reason he’d gambled his way into such a great debt that he’d had to fake his own kidnapping and then run off, leaving her and their daughter behind to deal with the aftermath.

  They were no longer telling her she needed to move forward with her life and leave the past in the past. Which was good. Because she hadn’t been listening to anything they’d said. She knew she wasn’t to fucking blame.

  She didn’t need them to tell her that. It wasn’t like she was the one who’d gambled the money away. She wasn’t the one who’d gotten involved with some shady individuals who couldn’t be trusted.

  She wasn’t the one who turned her back on the Brotherhood. Even the Russian Mafia had thought her husband had really been kidnapped. They’d used an immense amount of resources searching for him.

  And now the leader of the Soldiers was pissed off. She wasn’t the one who ran off, leaving her family behind to deal with the fallout. No, she wasn’t to blame. Boris Norin, her late husband, was to blame.

  Boris, the rat bastard who’d promised to love and cherish her until the day he died. This was all his fault. She wasn’t blaming herself. Hell, she wasn’t even sad about the fact that he was dead. There wasn’t one ounce of sadness in her.

  The only thing she’d felt since learning about his death was anger. Cold, debilitating anger. It was her constant companion. It accompanied her everywhere she went. When she woke up in the morning, it was there to greet her.

  When she went to bed at night, it laid down next to her, ever-present. The only time it faded a little was when her daughter, Azariah, was near. Her daughter was the only one who could chase away the anger.

  Yet, it didn’t fade completely even when her daughter was near. It reared its ugly head every time Delilah watched her daughter cry over the death of her dad. Her daughter didn’t know the truth and she didn’t need to. This was Delilah’s cross to bear, not her daughter’s.

  Azariah thought her father had been killed in an accident. She didn’t know about her father’s involvement with the mafia. Neither did she know about her mother’s past. They’d shielded her from that part of their lives ever since she was born.

  But seeing her daughter cry over a father who didn’t deserve her precious tears made Delilah angry. She wanted to wipe those tears away and tell Zariah to never shed another one for that bastard.

  She wanted to tell her child to never be sad over someone who hadn’t loved her enough to stick around. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t take away the precious memories her daughter had of her father and turn them into something dark.

  She wouldn’t turn her daughter into the bitter person she’d allowed herself to become. She’d allow her daughter to continue believing her dad was the greatest man on Earth. And she’d be there to wipe her baby’s tears when she cried.

  And she’d be there to hold her when she had a bad dream. She’d be there for all of the good and the bad. Because she was a mother. And that was what mothers did. Real mothers didn’t pack up and run when times got hard.

  They adjusted their crowns and dealt with the shit head-on. That’s exactly what she was doing – dealing with shit head-on. Delilah raised the knife in her hand. She really wanted to cut someone right now.

  She really wanted to sink her knife into someone and watch their blood spill. She brought the knife down fast and hard as she sliced through the ham and cheese sandwich she’d just prepared, cutting it in half.

  “Oh, how I wish it was you I was cutting in half,” she muttered before stabbing the knife into the sandwich again, and again, and again. Over and over until she’d completely ruined her dinner.

  “Shit!” Tossing the knife onto the counter, she stared down at her food that was now a butchered mess. Closing her eyes, she sighed then whispered, “What am I doing?” The anger was winning again. She was letting it win again.

  If she kept this up, it would indeed consume her. Then where would that leave Zariah? Yeah, she would still have her father’s former best friend, a man she thought of as an uncle, there for her.

  Constantine would never turn his back on them. He was family. He was loyal. Plus, he and his fiancé adored Zariah. If anything happened to Delilah, they would definitely step in and take care of Azariah.

  “Fuck, what am I thinking.” She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. If she didn’t pull it together soon, she would become someone she didn’t recognize, someone she didn’t like, someone her child wouldn’t like.

  “Why can’t I get rid of this hate, this anger? I’d rather feel sad than this.” Delilah picked up her paper plate and walked over to the trashcan. After dropping it inside, she stared down at the trash.

  That was what her life had become, trash. Though she got up every day and got daughter ready for school on time, she still felt like trash. And even though she made sure there was a hot meal on the table every evening, she still felt like trash.

  Her energy was low. Her head often ached and she was irritated all the time. She’d become a pro at hiding it, but the truth was, she was depressed. And it wasn’t the kind of depression she often read about.

  The kind were people felt mopey, tired, and sad. No, hers was a rage-filled depression. Though she lacked energy, she couldn’t sleep. Though she felt weak, she couldn’t rest, not for a moment. Her thoughts were plagued with darkness.

  And she wasn’t just angry with Boris. Delilah was angry with herself also. She wasn’t the type of woman to let anyone get over on her. She was ashamed at herself for all the tears she cried when she’d thought Boris was missing.

  All of those sleepless nights, all of those skipped meals, all of those prayers she’d sent to heaven, even asking to exchange her life for his. She couldn’t get any of those back. She was ashamed of herself for being weak.

  Her mother always said that loving your child gave you strength, but loving a man made you weak. Delilah now knew those words to be true. Loving Boris had made her weak. And to add insult to injury, it had made her appear weak in front of others.

  Ever since she married him, she’d known he worked for a crime syndicate, The Soldiers. He hadn’t hidden that from her. He’d told her all about his dark past. He’d confided in her, even when he couldn’t confide in the Brotherhood.

  They hadn’t been just husband and wife, they’d also been best friends. Or, at least, that was what she’d thought. Yet, as soon as things got bad, he’d left her behind. He’d left her to deal with his bullshit.

  Not only had he been gambling away all of their money, but he’d also been stealing from the Soldiers. And just last week, she’d learned that he’d been trafficking young girls. Sex trafficking!

  When she learned that, she realized that the Boris who saved her life all those years ago, had changed. Sex trafficking! She still couldn’t believe he’d been involved in something that horrific. It was something the Soldiers frowned upon.

  They may be killers, but they lived by a code. And Boris had broken that code. He’d broken her trust. He’d broken both her and their daughter’s heart. And the leader of the Soldiers had taken his life.

  The leader of the Soldiers had made him pay for his crimes. But what about her? What about justice for her? What about those sleepless nights and those tears she’d cried? Who was going to pay for that?

  She was filled with rage because she had nowhere to release it. She wanted to release it on him. She wished she could’ve been the one to end him. She wished she could’ve been the one to make him pay.

  That right had been taken from her and she’d never get it back. So, she was stuck with these feelings that she had no way to release. They were now a part of her and she didn’t know how to make them go away. Delilah rubbed her hand through her long black hair.

  “Why the hell am I standing here staring down at the trashcan?” Shaking her head, she muttered. “Get it together, Lilah. Pull yourself together.”

  Her phone started to ring – Zariah�
�s ringtone. She raced into her living room to search for her phone and found it on the end table. She answered on the fourth ring.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  “Mama, what you doing?”

  Delilah sat down on the couch and stared at the television that wasn’t on. “Watching T.V.” It was just a white lie.

  “What you watching?”

  “The weather channel.” Another white lie.

  “The weather channel?”

  “Yes. What are you doing?”

  “Me and Shy just finished watching a movie. Now we’re lying on the couch, eating popcorn, about to watch another movie.”

  “Where is uncle Con and aunt Criss?”

  “Aunt Criss is on the other couch, asleep. Con had to go take care of business.”

  Business, huh? That was none of her concern. She no longer wanted anything to do with that world. Whatever the Soldiers were up to had nothing to do with her.

  “Oh, and Con said he’d bring us back ice cream when he comes home.”

  “Ice cream? This late at night?”

  Delilah could hear Shy, Criss’s niece, in the background saying, “Why did you tell her about the ice cream?”

  “Uh,” Zariah said. “Uh, forget the ice cream part, okay, mom?”

  Delilah chuckled. Her baby loved ice cream. Plus, she was having fun at the sleepover. Still, Delilah was going to have a talk with Conn and Criss about the snacks they fed her child when she was staying at their house. According to Con, they fed her veggies as snacks. Liar.

  “You can have ice cream. But you have to eat vegetables tomorrow.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “Is your aunt Criss still asleep?”

  “Yes. But her granny is up with us.”

  “Tell Criss to call me in the morning. And don’t get on Granny’s nerves. And don’t you two stay up too late.”

  “But ma, it’s the weekend.”

  “But Zariah, you’re still a little girl. Go to bed after you finish your movie.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Have you already bathed and brushed your teeth?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I did that wayyy earlier.”

  “Call me in the morning.”

  “Okay, ma. Don’t you stay up late either.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her daughter giggled before saying, “I love you.”

  “Love you more.”

  In the background, she heard Shy say, “You forgot to ask her about spring break.”

  “Oh right,” Zariah whispered before saying, “Ma, Con, and Criss are taking Shy to Disney World for spring break next month. They told me to ask you if I could come too. Con says he’s paying for everything because he’s a boss.”

  Disney World? Florida? That would mean she’d have to be separated from her baby for a week. They’d never been apart for that long.

  “Can I please go. Dad promised to take me…” Her daughter went silent.

  Delilah knew exactly what her baby had been about to say. Her dad had promised to take her but he was always too busy. And then his bitch ass went and died. Well, she wouldn’t have said it like that. That was Delilah’s version.

  Not wanting her baby to be sad at her sleepover, Delilah rushed to say, “Of course you can go, sweetie.”

  “Really, ma? Thank you.”

  In the background, she could hear Shy cheering. Delilah chuckled. She was glad her daughter had a friend to hang with. It helped take her mind off the sadder things in life.

  “Tell Criss to call me tomorrow, Zariah. Now get off this phone and finish your movie so you can go to sleep.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. Love you. Bye.”

  She waited until Zariah hung up before pressing end call and lying her phone down on the couch. Her daughter’s laughter was the most beautiful sound in the world. How could anyone want to let go of that?

  Delilah laid down on the couch and rested her face on one of her decorative pillows. All of the lights were off in the living room. Darkness surrounded her. She closed her eyes just as her stomach growled.

  Oh, right. Food. She needed to do that thing where you cooked food and put it in your mouth. She didn’t feel like it. Neither did she feel like sleeping. She opened her eyes and turned over onto her back.

  She was restless and antsy. She wanted to get up and do something while at the same time she wanted to do nothing at all. She was hungry and wanted to prepare something. Then again, the kitchen was way over there.

  She was so tired of feeling this way. She wanted to go back to being the regular Delilah Norrin. Yet, that version of her had been Boris’ wife. That version of her had been a happily married stay at home mom.

  There was no way for her to go back to being the old her because the old her no longer existed. Who was she now? She didn’t know. Never had she felt this lost before. She felt guilty for feeling like she no longer had a purpose.

  She was a mother for crying out loud. She would always have a purpose. It was there in her name, her title… Mother. That name meant something to the little person who looked up to her. Despite knowing that, at the back of her mind that useless feeling lingered.

  Delilah sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Her stomach growled again. She really needed to get up and prepare herself something to eat. She’d made a sweet potato pie yesterday. Why? She didn’t know.

  It had taken her mind off her problems for a while. Last week she’d made a blueberry cream cheese pie. She hated blueberry cream cheese pie. Yet, baking it had been a much needed distraction.

  She’d ended up tossing the entire pie in the trashcan the next day. However, sweet potato pie was one of her favorite desserts. Tonight, it would be her dinner. Delilah sat up, just as lights flashed in her living room window.

  Someone was pulling into her yard. Climbing off the couch, she strode over to the window and peeped through the blinds. It was Con’s car. Why was he here? He should be taking ice cream to the girls. Unless…

  Had something happened to the girls?

  ***

  He pulled into the driveway.

  For a moment, Yury just sat there, debating over whether or not he should go inside. This time, he didn’t have Constantine with him to do all the talking. He’d already dropped Con off at home with so much ice cream that he could make an igloo.

  After dropping Con off, he’d gone home to prepare something. Because of those bikers, he hadn’t had time to prepare what he’d originally wanted to. He’d whipped this together quickly. Too quickly.

  He was now wondering if he should’ve just waited until he had more time to prepare it the way he really wanted to. No going back now. He was already here. It wouldn’t take long for him to do what he came to do.

  Except this time, he would be alone with her. Perhaps that was why he was hesitating. He’d be alone with the woman he often dreamed about. The woman he often day-dreamed about. The star of his wildest fantasies.

  The woman he hadn’t been able to get off his mind for the past five years. Delilah Norin, recently widowed mother of a brilliant little girl. Delilah, recently widowed friend to Constantine and Criss.

  Delilah, a recently widowed broken butterfly who was still trying to piece her life back together. Delilah, a recently widowed woman who did not need a man like him anywhere near her. She didn’t need him showing up at her house late at night, again.

  Especially not with everything she’d been through with her late husband. That fucking bastard. Yury wished he could’ve been the one to murder him. He wished he could’ve broken the bastard’s neck with his bare hands then skinned him alive and fed him to his two pit bulls.

  Unfortunately, the killing part had to be left up to the leader of The Soldiers. Yury was left feeling helpless. He wanted to do something for her. He just didn’t know what. What could a man like him do for a woman like her?

  For the past two months, he’d been her daughter’s chauffeur, taking her back and forth from here to Criss’s house so s
he could have sleepovers with Criss’s niece, Shy. On numerous occasions, he’d been forced by the two children to have tea parties.

  A big ass man like him having tea parties. He looked ridiculous. Yet, their smiles made it worth it. Their laughter temporarily muted the cries of his victims that were on repeat in his thoughts day and night.

  As a man who couldn’t have kids, he adored them. Which was why he’d been shocked as hell when Boris turned his back on his wife and daughter, leaving them to fend for themselves. How could any man do that to his woman, to his child?

  It was true, Yury was no Saint. However, what Boris had done to his family placed the now deceased man in a different stratosphere than Yury. He was scum. The lowest of the low. He never deserved to have someone like Delilah as his wife.

  He never deserved to have a daughter like Azariah in his life. Now, Boris was where he belonged, hell. And now, it was time for Yury to watch over those he’d left behind. The porch light came on and the garage door in front of him started rising.

  Fuck. She’d seen him. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he watched the door rise, higher and higher, until it revealed the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. There she was, standing in the empty garage.

  Her car was still in the shop. Constantine was debating over whether or not he should return it to her or buy her a new one. Yury voted for buying her a new one. Yet, he wanted to be the one who purchased it for her.

  Coming from him, would she be willing to accept it? Just thinking about her car incident had him wanting to hurt someone. She waved at him and smiled. That smile calmed him down a little.

  As she retreated, she motioned for him to pull into the garage. Yury waited until she was safely out of the way before driving forward. Behind his car, the garage door began to shut, shutting him inside with Delilah.

  He stared at the items seated on his passenger seat. Would she like it? Would she think it was too much? Would she think it weird that he’d done this for her? Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed the items then exited the car.