Page 105 of Deliria

And that thought alone pisses me off more than I can put into words.

I know that’s what’s happened. I know that he’s found her, despite my best attempts to keep her concealed.

I clench my fists, staring across the distance even though the island is completely obscured by the clouds, the storm, and the sheet rain pouring down like it’s the end of the world.

He’s with her.

My wife. My god damn wife.

In the grand scheme of things it shouldn’t matter, they can’t escape, they can’t get off the island and by the time they’re able to, I’ll be back and both of them will be answering for what they’ve done.

But I can’t get it out of my head, the idea of her willingly choosing him, probably fucking him as we speak.

I can see her body, her beautiful, delicious, goddess like curves that she had when we first started dating. I can see her, practically born again, rejuvenated, writhing in ecstasy as my brother tarnishes her with his hands.

She’s mine. My fucking wife. Mine.

It doesn’t matter that I shared her, it doesn’t matter that I whored her out. Not really. Those decisions were mine to make, mine to choose. And I got to be there, to witness it, to partake.

What she’s doing right now is a betrayal. It’s a fucking insult.

I snarl, tossing the crystal glass in my hand. I watch as it disappears over the balcony and into the darkness of the swirling, angry water far below me.

I want her back, I want her in my arms where I can hurt her, where I can make that bitch pay.

“Alex?”

I don’t turn at the sound of my father’s voice. I just narrow my eyes and continue to glare.

He’s also responsible for this. He allowed Rafferty to come back, to be welcomed into the fold. Even though we knew what he was.

“The doctor just called.” He says, coming to stand beside me.

I raise an eyebrow, wondering why the fuck the doctor is calling him and not me. He raises his hand, holding out my phone and I guess that answers it. I must have left the damned thing in the room.

“Rafferty was in touch with him.” He continues.

“And?”

Did my brother really think the doctor would give a fuck what state my wife was in? Like he’s not been in on this, like he’s not been enjoying the process as much as I have.

“Apparently your wife has had a miscarriage.”

What?

What the fuck?

I turn, shaking my head. “How the fuck is that possible?” I snarl. She was on meds. Contraceptives. We made sure of it.

My father shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “They’re not 100% effective. We all know that.” He mutters, like he’s been caught out by that little fact in the past. “Good news is, it’s dealt with. Doctor says it was an early term one so assuming there are no complications, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” I repeat, like those words make no sense.

“…Besides, even if there are complications, it’s not like she’s going to be around long enough to concern ourselves with it…” He continues, but I’m not listening to a word he says.

Scarlett was pregnant? Was it mine? Was she carrying my child? I don’t know why that should matter. I never wanted that, I never wanted to have children with her. But the image of her pregnant, smiling, holding out her hand for me hits like a ton of bricks and I have to grab the rail to steady myself.

“Come inside,” My father says, misjudging my movements for being some response to the howling wind.

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