Delusive

by Courtney Lane

In the middle of reading a book at the public library, across the street from the elementary school, I had a sudden urge to call my sister. In the interest of safety, my sister kept a burner phone, and I, in turn, called her from the landline of random places or with a pay-as-you-go phone. Currently I used the phone at a local school after lying and telling the staff a story about my car breaking down.

  “Hey, Hanley. Been a long time since I’ve heard from you,” Whitney, my sister’s wife, answered the phone. “Your sister is pretty busy.”

  I glanced around the principal’s office and sat in the executive chair. “You give me that response every time I call,” I replied. “She can’t stay mad at us forever.”

  “She doesn’t agree with what you and your dad are doing. It won’t erase what happened.”

  “We know that,” I stated with an edge. “Can I please talk to her?”

  “Hold on.”

  After a brief pause, filled with muffled voices arguing on the other end of the line, Holden answered the phone. “I have a tight schedule. What is it you want?”

  Her bitter tone burned right through me and made me wonder why I continuously bothered to have some sort of relationship with her. “I’m sorry. I won’t call you again.”

  “Leina!” she called me back to the receiver. She used my birth name because she was adamantly against using the new one. “You obviously have something heavy going on. So talk.”

  “How is Whitney?”

  She sighed heavily, losing her patience. “You didn’t call to ask about my wife.”

  “I haven’t spoken to you in a while. I wanted to catch up.” I bit my nails as I prepared to dive into a subject that had been bothering me for months. “Why didn’t I get an invitation to your wedding over the summer?”

  “You wouldn’t have come without him,” she answered without a hint of remorse. “And our father wouldn’t have come without the baggage he refuses to let go of and his judgmental ways.”

  I thought about Elias and the dangerous game I played with him. I tried my hardest not to feel for him, but my mind and body had other ideas. My torment delayed my need to push things forward and reveal my true intentions. “I’m hitting a roadblock, Holden. I’m not sure about things anymore.”

  “Oh?” She laughed humorlessly. “Now you feel guilty after what you did to Roth? It’s a little late, isn’t it?”

  “What I did to Roth?” Irateness bled into my words. Holden shut down when faced with anger—especially mine. It forced me to quickly take in soothing breaths to calm myself before she hung up on me. “What about what his father did to our family?”

  “His father, Hanley. If you’re going to do anything, do the right thing and let the right people handle this. The authorities.”

  I balked. “You don’t understand how revenge works.”

  “Oh, I do. I know it consumes and kills. It killed our family—our mother, and it’s going to kill you. This isn’t you. None of it is you. You’re pretending to be someone you’re not, and even if you’re never found out about, you will be responsible for killing what little of you there is left alive.”

  "What do you mean by that?” I questioned the way she related what happened to my mother as revenge, and was curious to know if she had knowledge of something I wasn’t privy to. “Our mother was innocent in the situation.”

  Silence cut through on the other line.

  “I have a boyfriend now.” I effortlessly changed the subject but immediately regretted disclosing it to her.

  “Because you’re supposed to. I can hear it in your voice. You know what you’re doing is wrong, and maybe it’s because you feel for him. Whatever you do, wear a condom.”

  “I will, and I’m also on birth control, but we haven’t…yet.”

  “So?”

  The principal peeped at me through the glass. When she turned around, I felt the sense of urgency to finish my conversation and get to the root of my issues. I needed to make sense of my feelings for Skylar. I disclosed it all to Holden; the shortened version.

  Shortly after hearing my concerns, she took a long pause and finally just said, “Mmm.”

  “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “You’re burying yourself more and more every day. You are so much better than this. I blame him for making you be this way. For making you chase after him and do his dirty work for him. You should be living your life and being comfortable with who you are. He should be in a mental ward so he can let her go and stop fooling you into holding onto a lie.” She fell silent for a while.

  “That was my coworker,” she said hastily, adding, “I have to go,” prior to hanging up on me.

  MY BRIEF CONVERSATION with Holden replayed in my thoughts as I removed my work clothes and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I thought about seeing Elias, but instead I nestled into bed, in my clothes. I tossed and turned, feeling as though every little sound irritated me. The hard ping of the rain tapping on the windows. The downpour making a rhythmic sound on the roof.

  I stuffed my hands underneath my pillow and stared at my phone as it buzzed every so often as it had been for the past three hours. Jamming my eyes shut, I talked myself out of answering.

  The need to cure what ached overtook my will to hold stronger to my mission by taking time away from Elias.

  I picked up my phone, scanning a handful of the numerous texts Elias sent me:

  Saturday 4:00 Elias: Jaco waited for an hour to pick you up

  and was told you left on time.

  Call me and let me know that you’re all right.

  Saturday 4:18 Elias: I just received information that you left

  and boarded a bus.

  Call me.

  Saturday 6:13 Elias: I know where you’ve been.

  I know you’re blatantly ignoring me.

  Saturday 7:34 Elias: I’m on your street,

  you have one hour to meet me here.

  Saturday 8:46 Elias: Get to my place. NOW.

  I hadn’t returned home until ten o’clock. It was mostly due to not knowing the bus routes and schedules and having to take several different ones before walking two and a quarter miles in uncomfortable shoes to get home. The fact that he’d had someone search for me and maybe tailing me around town convinced me to take my time in responding.

  Thirty minutes later, I sent Elias a text simply stating I was going to bed and would see him tomorrow. I held onto my phone for a few minutes, waiting for a response that never came.

  Startling me, a loud horn resounded outside. I slipped out of bed and stepped into my sneakers before leaving the house through the French doors in my room. I strolled down the walkway that surrounded the perimeter of the house, heading toward the front walk. Cold rain pelted my body, cooling me down.

  I expected to catch a glimpse of Elias in the driveway, but was instead faced with Jaco who barked at me, “Get in the back.”

  “I’m not—”

  “If you know what’s good for you”—he snarled, pointing a thick finger in my direction—“you’ll get in the goddamn car.”

  His shout made me cringe and served as an incentive to obey. Like a wayward child, browbeaten into submission, I bowed my head, slid my sneaker adorned feet down the driveway, and got in the back of the car.

  THE “HOUSEKEEPER”—I didn’t know Elias had—greeted Jaco and me at the front door. The rage of jealousy was put out before it had a chance to begin. The overly friendly greeting she gave Jaco, led me to believe the two might’ve been an item.

  She guided me to the rear of the house—as though I needed the direction. In the game room, Elias sat on a stool at the back of the room while holding a glass tumbler. The look on his face indicated he was far from entertained with the sight of his comrades—who looked to be a good start for a well-dressed criminal organization—playing pool.

  Elias’s housekeeper captured my attention the most, mainly due to the way she was dressed. She was wearing a ruffled apron with only a pair of G-string panties underneat
h. Her face was heavily made up and her chip-free manicure indicated she hadn’t done anything resembling housework.

  She winked at Elias and he winked back at her, telling her, “Thank you,” in a tone I’d only witnessed him use on me.

  With a grin, she sauntered out of the room, throwing me her “cat ate the canary” smile as she walked by.

  Elias’s attention leisurely drifted to me and the choking grip he held on his tumbler drained the color from his hands. “Follow her out,” Elias told his companions with his cold eyes remaining on me.

  It was apparent his cronies delayed for a moment too long for Elias’s liking. Straightening his spine, he bellowed, “NOW!”

  Grumbling, they filed out of the game room.

  “You evaded Jaco and didn’t return my calls or texts,” he said in a low and quiet voice, brimming with a tangible vexation. “For a while, I thought you were in a hospital somewhere—that is until one of my associates tracked you down.” He changed his expression and appeared a little less furious than before. “What’s going on with you, Hanley?”

  “Nothing’s going on. I was just…out and about,” I said.

  Taking his time, he slid off the stool and walked around the billiard table. “Is that all you have to say to me?” The glass he held hung tensely at his side as he plodded toward me. Stopping just a few feet from my position, he glowered at me. “Something very interesting happened today. A video was shared with nearly the entire town; it was a video of your work associate giving head to several men within a short period of time.” He briefly regarded me. “While the fact that she’s a whore, who has no qualms about whose cock she permits inside her mouth, isn’t news to me”—smiling inscrutably, he searched my eyes—“I can tell by the shocked look on your face that it is news to you.

  “I warned you against hanging around her. You ignored my very strong advice and had lunch with her at Sed’s Diner. And, apparently, you decided I wasn’t worth your time today.” He clucked his tongue, shaking his head at me. “You have a lot of things to learn, Hanley. Too many things. I don’t know how much plainer I can be. Who I surround myself with is a reflection of the type of man I am. I do not need anyone thinking my girlfriend is a whore”—he paused at the word whore, baiting me with a sneer—“who has a very difficult time listening.”

  “I had a bad day,” I snapped, putting my hands on my hips. “I didn’t come here so you could swing your dick and piss on me like I’m your fucking property.”

  He quirked a brow as the corner of his mouth twitched into a frown. I could hear the cracking of the glass as the tumbler cracked and fractured in his hand. Red appeared from the sides of his palms as he continued to glare at me, unaffected by the self-inflicted wounds on his palms. Shards of the glass fell to the ground and were decorated with his blood. He stepped over it. The crunching and crackling sound underneath his shoes affected me, revealing the truth behind my strong front.

  The tension in his face sharpened his features. “You’re beginning to behave like someone who serves no other purpose than to be fucked like the worthless bitch she is and discarded the next day.”

  My hands balled into fist, and he noticed. It was clear he thought my anger was comical.

  “Finally. There’s the real you. Do you want to hit me?” Stepping closer, his head turned to the right, giving me better access to his cheek. “Go ahead, Hanley. Hit me. Don’t be surprised if you wind up with a sore ass immediately after.”

  “Fuck you,” I gritted out through my teeth.

  His attention darted over my shoulder as though he were sizing up my future path. “Right now would be a good time for you to run.” His eyes narrowed, becoming mere slits as his lips firmed. “I’ll give you head start. Because if you let me catch you or stand here because you think you don’t have anything to fear, I’m going to show you the true meaning of discipline.” He stepped forward, pressing his body against me. “And when I’m done breaking you in, I’m going to fuck you, hard.” When I tried to recede, he grabbed my head, forcing me to stand still.

  I had nothing to say, nor could I do what he asked and leave. His promise of danger pulled me in a way I wished I could ignore.

  “You know what I’ve been thinking?” He pressed his palms against my cheeks and leaned forward until the heat of his breath skirted down my face. “With the way you’ve been sucking my cock like a two dollar hooker who’s done it far too many times in one night, I might finally slide my cock inside you and find that you’ve had way too many insignificant individuals fuck you before me. What a tragedy that would be.” He pressed in harder, ensuring my cheeks stung with pain. “I don't make repeat performances with women who I don’t enjoy fucking. It would likely add to the boredom I’m beginning to experience when it comes to dealing with you.”

  “Considering you’ve had your fingers inside me,” I spat at him, “your insult means less than shit to me. Also considering you’ve been calling and texting me like a madman, I’m pretty sure you think I’m very entertaining. As for what I did when I was with Skylar, I went to a diner with her, because she was having a rough time. I didn’t want to be with you today, because you drain the life out of me. I wanted the day to be about me. End of story. I don’t believe the reason you’re so adamant about me not hanging around her. Did you fuck her? Or…are you worried that I want to fuck her?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, he made one large step forward, wedging me between him and the supporting wall of the entryway. The expression on his face became disconcerting. I fought hard to continue to conceal the fact he scared me, but it was a battle I had officially lost.

  He dropped his hands from me and touched his forehead to mine. Expelling a long and noisy exhale, he glared at me. “You should run,” he warned, his voice husky and dark. “Because if you continue to speak to me as if I don’t deserve your utmost respect, I’m going to make good on all of my threats to you and…that isn’t all. I’ll start taking away the things I own. The car I gave you? Gone. Seeing as though you were never given the real title, just a dummy one my brother made up for you, think very carefully about what you’re going to do next.”

  I blinked at him, my mouth falling open in awe.

  “That’s right, Hanley,” he said, curling his lips cruelly. “You paid nine-hundred. Well, guess who paid the remainder? And let’s not forget who also paid for the repairs the car needed because you wanted to linger in a sketchy neighborhood.”

  “You are a fucking asshole of epic proportions, Elias,” I stated brusquely, my voice shaky.

  He ensured I couldn’t breathe with the way his chest mashed against my body and pinned me against the wall. My hands flew up to push him away. He grabbed my wrists, pulling them down to my sides. The burning grip on my wrists made me wince. As I looked down, I saw the blood he spread on my skin—his blood.

  “I’ve been wondering about the kind of game you’re playing with me. I mildly liked the one you were playing before, but I don’t care for this one. It’s sloppy, immature, and beneath me.” Nearing the side of my face, he made me jump with the way his lips touched the outer rim of my ear. “But if it’s a game you want, then I came to fucking play.” He released me and took a step backward.

  I looked from the purple marks on my skin—due to his harsh grip—to the splattering of his blood he left there.

  My eyes darted from his bloody hands to his face. “You’re fucking crazy,” I mumbled, shaking my head in astonishment. Taking the car key from my key ring, I threw it at his chest. It hit the ground with a hard thud. We glared at each other in silence. Both of us too stubborn to diffuse the situation.

  Deciding against ignoring my pride again, I knew there was only one thing left to do… I walked away.

  TWELVE

  THE SOUND OF MY sneakers hitting the gravel echoed ominously on the quiet road. I had no idea where I wound up. I only knew I was a few blocks from Elias’s home. I roughly used the edge of my T-shirt to remove Elias’s blood from my cheek.


  A car passed, nearly hitting me, and soaked me with water when the tire hit a mud puddle.

  I stumbled down off the road, remaining in front of the tree line. Standing underneath a tree, I rested my forehead against the bark. Glancing down at my mud-stained and drenched T-shirt, I rolled my eyes.

  The pitting ache in my stomach wouldn’t diminish no matter how many times I rubbed at it. It wasn’t something I could touch or something I could cure. Elias did this to me, and only he could make it go away.

  The rhythmic sound of wipers and the low hum of a car closing in on my location made me still. When the slam of the car door resounded close by, I turned around.

  Elias stood just ten feet in front of me, his face wrought with regret and anguish.

  I wanted to scream at him, but seeing him standing there full of melancholy, with his T-shirt and jeans soaked to his skin, I felt the painful ache in my abdomen just a little more than I had before.

  Keeping me in his gaze, he strode toward me in short slow steps. His bandaged hand reached up to cup my face gently.

  It was clear to me and even more evident in his eyes—we were both fighting against what had become stifling between us. Neither of us knew what to do with it, and neither of us were okay with the lack of control we had over it.

  “You’re a pompous asshole,” I stated sharply.

  “So you continuously tell me in very colorful ways.” Taking my hand from my side, he placed the car key on my palm and closed my hand.

  “I don’t want it.” I withdrew my hand from his hold, taking several steps backward until my spine met the trunk of the tree. “It’s not mine. I don’t take handouts.”

  “It was always yours.” Sauntering forward, he reached up to grab the trunk and trapped me against his body. “I want you to have it.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Why?” His question was posed with such innocence, I believed he really didn’t understand.

  “Because it comes with things I don’t want.”