by Raven Scott
“I wanted to, but telling you risked worsening your already terrible relationship with Tanya. If I could go back, I would make the same decision to keep quiet since you became quite a fantastic young lady.” Gradually, the tension in the air was declining, and I took my first full breath since entering the house. “I know it doesn’t excuse anything, but after seeing the disaster we made of your brother. . .”
“No— no. I know. I just. . . what do I do now?” Even now, Riley hadn’t changed as a result of her anger, and she tilted her head to stare at her dad. It was awesome that he wasn’t a pedophile. Even better that he came to Riley’s defense.
But this was closure. There was no denying that this was the end.
“Now. . . you go back to New York City, and you live your life the way you want and by your own rules. I’m sure having a man like him around will be better for you than I ever was.” There it was— the admission that allowed Riley to walk out of here without any remorse or guilt or regret. I actually felt bad for the old man, nearing 50 and realizing more than half his life was spent with someone who tried to murder his daughter. “I’m sorry, Riley. For everything.”
“. . . Okay, then.” Lifting her head to place both her palms firmly on the table, Riley stood up to huff softly. Her eyes saw through me, and I hoisted myself out of my own chair to gently push it in.
What was it that British guy said?
It’s not the beginning of the end, but the end of the beginning.
The Defector
1
Delilah
“The warmth coming up from the Gulf is expected to drag in the rains this weekend, and—” Turning off the news to scowl, I tossed the remote to the empty side of the bed and pulled my knees to my chin. Just the mention of violent storms from Florida making their way all the way up here to Upstate New York made my heart jump into my throat.
Closing my eyes tightly, my nose stung when I inhaled sharply and I held my breath as I scratched my scalp with both my hands. “God...Why...?” My murmur was met with absolute silence as my stomach churned from the tendrils of cold slithering up my bare arms. “I hate storms.”
My words floated above me palpably as I laid down on my side and pulled my blanket over myself to fight back a shiver. This room just felt cold and distant it didn’t want me in it and I didn’t want to be here. Yet—I danced to Carlyle Santino’s sadistic tunes, hoping desperately that he’d give me a break, but all he did was throw coals under my feet.
“It’s been months…” When I closed my eyes and focused hard enough, I could hear the creepy music float through to vibrate in my ears. Nothing could make that ugly, haunting lilting completely disappear. My ears rang as I scrunched up my face. Covering my head with my arms, I inhaled deeply into the oxygen-starved cavern under the blanket. I wanted to hear something other than this dreadful song, but nothing could breach the dense covering that muffled all other voices.
Tiny tears pricked my eyes and I exhaled slowly as a cold sweat broke out on my skin. My mind churned slowly, producing only superficial thoughts that clung to my forehead but didn’t dig into the crevices of my brain.
“Knock, knock.”
Peeking out from under the blanket, I frowned an ugly, deep frown as Carlyle stepped into the room.
He shot me a small, disapproving frown. “You’re going to just mope around until Darren arrives, Delilah?”
I covered myself back up again as bitterness seared through my system. “Go away.” My grumble earned me a soft scoff, and I tensed when Carlyle grabbed my blanket and ripped it off me. I curled up tighter, sucking in a sharp breath as goosebumps marred my body. “Why can’t you just leave me alone, damnit!”
He was frowning under my heated glare. “Why can’t you act like an adult for once, instead of making things as difficult as possible for everyone around you, just because you’re miserable?” The sharp accusation stabbed my heart, and I sat up to scowl darkly. Carlyle dropped my blanket on the floor to rub his face in frustration, but he’d made this mess for himself. Sighing shortly, his brown eyes widened slightly as he swiped back his chestnut colored hair. “I know this isn’t what you envisioned for yourself, Delilah, but I promise you, it’s almost over. I’m not purposely being contentious. Darren Willians is defecting from the Russians and that’s not an easy thing to accomplish.”
“You singlehandedly ruined my life and you’re not purposely being contentious?” Incredulousness tainted my voice and my scowl darkened as Carlyle nodded firmly. An ugly, bottomless pit opened up in my chest and I pointed an accusatory finger at him as sourness stained my tongue. “I don’t care who you are or how ugly you can be, Carlyle Santino, but I’ve had about enough of this. I’m not wasting away in this awful place because of Darren—no more. You made me quit my job, move away from all my family, and kept me under your thumb for almost six years and for what? Because of Darren. Because I slept with him a time too many.”
“Delilah…you chose this. I made it very clear in the beginning what could happen if you continued your relationship with Darren. He’s an arms dealer, one of the only ones that isn’t being targeted by the government. Don’t think this would’ve happened without your compliance.”
Glaring hotly at him despite his soft tone, I crossed my arms over my chest impudently.
Carlyle simply frowned deeper as he inhaled and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed. “It’s lasted a lot longer than I had anticipated, but you’re going to get what you wanted.”
I couldn’t actually say anything to refute his point. “What I want…do you even remember what I said I wanted? I said I wanted a regular life—”
Carlyle held up a hand to stop me. “I may sympathize with your loneliness and frustration, but make no mistake…I don’t care about you or what you’re going through. You’re here for one reason and only one reason, Delilah. I need you to get to Darren. If you don’t like how you’re living, do something to change it.”
My eyes stung viciously as I turned them to my lap. My face warmed as my throat tightened under the weight of his gaze and this whole situation. Just under my skin, exhaustion tightened my shoulders, and I twiddled my thumbs. I despised that phrase if you don’t like something, change it and my tears became hot with my anger. Scooting to the right, I threw my legs over the side of the bed.
Carlyle watched me, curiosity in his eyes.
Standing up, I flipped my hair over my shoulder and inhaled deeply through flared nostrils. My shoulders heaved, my ribs aching from the incredible breath, and I held it for a moment before exhaling. “Fine. I told you already that I wasn’t going to have a relationship with Darren beyond screwing around when he was Stateside. I know you want me to tell you all his dirty secrets, and the only reason you’re not keeping me locked in a wooden box right now, is because you think being nice to me will eventually get you answers.” My eyes narrowed. Did he think was some idiot, naïve girl with only superficial understanding, who’d be perfectly happy to be scouring the world for the most beautiful necklace I could find? Scoffing lightly, I ground my teeth lightly as I scanned him shrewdly. “You’re suggesting that I make changes to what you forced on me? The ‘protection detail’? The ‘only live in preapproved places’ which just so happens to be California, New York, or some dust bucket in Nevada? The modelling contract you made me sign that prohibits me from making any changes to my appearance, or the fact that you tagged all of my clothes with GPS. How am I supposed to change those things?”
If Carlyle felt surprised that I’d actually read that insanely complicated contract, it didn’t show on his face even as his expression tightened.
I was tired— tired of him, tired of this life, but mostly, I was tired of acting like someone I wasn’t. Being the whiny, complaining princess that everyone expected me to be just stole all the energy from me and made me bitter. Watching everything I said and did to make sure I fit the narrative, what I wore, how I did my hair— every action took me farther from who I was. “Here’s a better
question, Carlyle.” Realizing Carlyle had kept quiet, I cocked my head quizzically at him. “What could you do about my living situation if I just…don’t live anymore?”
His eyes narrowed into slits. “You won’t kill yourself, Delilah.”
Arching a brow in challenge, my lips twisted in an ugly frown. Carlyle had an amazing poker face, but the harder it closed, like a wall, the more I knew he wasn’t as certain as his tone suggested. “You think that because I love Darren, I wouldn’t? I’ve spent five years suffering through this for him, so what’s a few more weeks? That’s your logic? Here’s my counter point.” Rounding the foot of the bed, I got really close to Carlyle’s face and stared him down, watching the shadows play in his eyes. “I’ve said ‘no’ to him before almost a dozen times. How much of a relationship do we have, in all honesty? We get together every few months, sometimes for a few days, but more often than not, it’s only a quick night or two. The only thing we do together is have sex and have a brief, frustrated conversation about why I say ‘no’ to him. Then, Darren leaves, all upset because I’m not going to uproot myself even more and go to some mud castle in the Middle East with him. Out of the past 5 years, I’ve spent maybe a total of two or three months with him in person. So… is my relationship with Darren strong enough to keep me alive?”
Carlyle clenched his jaw as I leaned back, and I turned on my heel to walk out of my room then down the short hallway that led to the kitchen. He’d have to storm past me to leave the apartment, or take the back way, and I wasn’t sure which would damage him more.
Leaning on my palms on the counter between the fridge and the sink, I ducked my head and bit my lip hard. Who am I fooling, anyway? Carlyle’s right. I put up with this for five years and now, the end was so close that I could feel it on my fingertips.
Am I lying, though? Was my relationship with Darren a good one, or a bad one? Was I just fooling myself thinking the future would be all I dreamed it was? When I pictured my life, was the man next to me interchangeable? All this time, I’d banked on the fact that Darren constantly promised that we’d be together, but then something always kept him from keeping that promise. I gave up a lot for Darren, but what did he give up for me?
2
Delilah
Licking my lips heavily, I frowned up at the heavy clouds blanketing the sky. The ominous smell of a thunderstorm hung thickly in the air, and I wrapped my arms around myself before ducking into a coffee shop. The smell of coffee intensified to the point that my stomach twisted greedily as I headed to the back of the line to rock on my heels. Despite being a ‘model’, I’d never actually done any modelling, and I was so grateful for my anonymity as my chest and throat tightened.
I had no routine. I never did anything of substance anymore and a powerful throb ripped through my chest with each straining beat of my heart. Fishing my phone out of my pocket absently, I tapped the back with my nails as the time switched from 9:23am to 9:24am.
“Six minutes,” mumbling to myself, my mouth tilted lopsidedly, but the tension zinging between my shoulders didn’t dull in the slightest. Shuffling as the line started to dwindle, I gnawed on my bottom lip as excitement began to glow in my veins. Glancing around at the tired people waiting for their morning brew, my eyes narrowed on all the faces weary of the daily grind. My conversation with Carlyle raced around to brush against my mind, and no matter how many times I shook my head, I couldn’t get rid of the ringing in my ears.
What was the point of getting tied up with a man I couldn’t physically be with? And why did Carlyle seem to think that my holding out for Darren meant I’d sacrifice anything and everything for him? Hadn’t I already given up enough for almost nothing? Darren made promises and whispered sweet things in my ear, but we both knew I was more in love with the idea of him than the man himself. Our future the one I made in my head was based on assumptions and wishes and hope.
Darren...My lips twisted as my mind churned out beautiful thoughts of him and his gorgeous face. He glowed, attracting attention in every room he entered, and the phantom memory of his voice caressed my brain. Closing my eyes briefly, I inhaled deeply through my nose, the smell of coffee clinging to my nostrils.
Tightening my grip on my phone, my palms itched with expectation as I slowly made my way to the counter. Darren and I talked every day, and despite what I’d said to Carlyle, we didn’t argue about my saying ‘no’ to the many, many times Darren had ‘proposed’ to me. After a while, it became that tired, overused joke that wasn’t funny anymore, but it still made me smile at its stupidity.
Loving Darren didn’t mean I wanted to marry him, or that I thought our future would work out in the long-term. It just meant that I was willing to try my hardest to make it all that I dreamed it was. Because that was what the future was…dreams.
In my hand, my phone buzzed insistently and rattled my bones up my arm. I quickly swiped the ‘Answer’ button as a smile stretched my lips. “Hey, hi. Are you okay?” I stepped out of line to slide into one of the chairs at the back of the shop, plopping my purse on the table. Concern thickened my voice, and I reached to pinch the bridge of my nose. “How’s your arm?”
“Delilah...I’m fine, baby. I just dislocated it. It would’ve been a lot worse if that bomb took it off.”
No matter how casual he was, Darren’s words still sent shivers down my spine, and horror dried my mouth.
He sighed heavily. “I watched the weather report for your area. Are you going to be okay, Delilah? I know you’re terrified of thunder.”
“Um yeah, I think I’ll be okay…” Trailing as longing tightened my chest and clogged my throat, I nibbled my bottom lip furiously. Ducking my head, I closed my eyes just to listen to his breaths and held my forehead in my palm. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Darren...I’m going crazy. I’m getting bitter. I told Carlyle I was gonna kill myself just to get him off my back, and I’ve been trying…trying so hard ”
“No, no, no. It’s just a little longer, Delilah. I know it’s awful, but it’ll be over soon.”
My eyes stung at Darren’s rough coo, like he was trying to convince himself just as much as me.
“We’re almost there, baby.”
“It is awful, and it’s your fault. Why can’t you just come back? Why am I not important enough to you, Darren? You don’t have to deal with any of this, it’s all on me, and I’m tired...” My voice cracked slightly, and I sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath as my heart squeezed. “It’s been months. Months. I’m tired of doing this. I’m tired of waiting. If you don’t—”
“Delilah, please. This is hard on me, too.”
Scoffing lightly, tension zinged between my hunched shoulders.
Darren was quiet for a long, terse moment. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to sound like I’m downplaying what you’re going through.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing when you try to compare you and me, Darren. I know Aleksander is trying to kill you, but shouldn’t that make you want to come—home more?” Tripping over my words, I lowered my voice to a whisper, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up, “I mean, Carlyle’s an ass, but he’ll protect you. Why is it taking so long?”
“I know it’s been a long time, baby, but these deals aren’t something I can rush just because Aleksander is after me for defecting. You of all people understand that this job is heartless. Aleksander isn’t making the best choices right now, but that doesn’t mean, he’s not just a threat. I have one client left. Just two more weeks, Delilah. I promise.”
Clenching my free hand into a fist with disbelief, I ground my teeth at Darren’s assurance. Whenever he talked to me, he ditched his Russian accent and I just wanted to hear it without the crackling of phone static in the background.
He went on, “I know it doesn’t mean much right now, baby, but I’m doing everything I can to give you everything I am. I have to be thorough. Otherwise, I’ll get dragged back into this pit and I may not be lucky enough to have Carlyle st
ick his hand in to rescue me next time. Believe me, it’s terrible and more for you, I know, but I’m trying with all I can to get to you and stay there.”
I closed my eyes, ducking my head as Darren’s determination vibrated in his voice. He was right, and I hated it. My face grew hot, my lips thinned and rolled inward as I held my breath. “...Your job was always more important than me and I’m tired of not being enough. Don’t call me anymore, Darren. Obviously, I’m the foolish one waiting around, hoping you’ll give me a minute of your time, but you never do. It’s always ‘I have to do this, and then...’ and I can’t take it anymore.” Before I could hesitate, I hung up on Darren, as my heart raced unsteadily against the bars of its cage. That’s what it was, after all. Darren held my heart in a cage and only he had the key but by design, that meant he also had to be here to let it out.
Carlyle listened to every one of my phone calls, but the thought was fleeting and abandoned in the back of my mind. If I had to threaten Darren to spend time with me, wasn’t I just a pathetic idiot that confused love with the idea of love? He sold weapons to people, so was it so out of character that he’d weaponize his relationship with me?
Did I love the future we could have, or did I love the notion that Darren would sacrifice for me when I’d done nothing but sacrifice for him? That I would finally be rewarded for all the crap I’d been through? Was I just better off trying to move on as Darren proved over and over again that I didn’t matter?
When I looked into the future...was it Darren I saw, or just any man that gave me just enough attention?
“Jesus...I’m that girl...oh, my God.” Dropping my phone on the small, circular table, I covered my mouth as horror flipped my stomach dangerously. Bitterness clung to the back of my throat and I couldn’t breathe under the weight of my revelation. I was the girl who made up intense, complicated relationships based on almost no interaction. That girl who turned one-night-stands into dreams of marriage, when there was no foundation for it.