Page 128 of Deliria

I frown, glancing at her, wondering what she knows, when she’s met him before. Sydney’s been in hiding for years so their paths should never have crossed. He’s paranoid, convinced someone is hunting him. My father thought he was going senile, that he was losing his wits, little did he know that he was right. Someone is hunting him. Someone my family believes to be dead.

“You,” Scarlett mutters, shaking her head.

“What’s that darling?” Alexander drawls clearly still so amused.

“The chandelier, the ballroom…”

Christ, how much did they give her? How out of it is she?

Her lip trembles, she shakes more violently as Sydney comes to a stop before us. He squats down, putting his balding face right up into hers as he grabs her. “Have you missed me?” He asks as she starts screaming.

I don’t know what the fuck is going on. Clearly, she does know him, clearly something happened, something I wasn’t aware of.

“Pack it in,” Alexander says and one of his goons kicks Scarlett hard enough to silence her, before he offers Sydney a drink.

As they walk away, I try to ask her, try to understand what the hell this is, but she just shakes her and keeps repeating the word ‘chandelier’ over and over like that’s supposed to mean something.

My brother and Sydney stand, talking and laughing, as they drink their nice glasses of whiskey. But I can feel it, every time they look in our direction, every time they look at her, in particular.

My body may be broken, my limbs may be as good as useless right now but I will fight them, I will do whatever I have to do to stop them from hurting her.

“Put some music on,” Sidney says suddenly. “Anyone would think it was a funeral we’re at and not a birthday celebration.”

At his words the gramophone cackles to life. It’s an old-fashioned thing, another of my father’s precious heirlooms. The great brass horn is polished so brightly it looks like it almost rivals the sun.

The music whirls around, sounding distorted as it bounces off the great glass ceiling above our heads.

I look across at Scarlett again and I can see it, my own fear reflected in her beautiful eyes.

“We’re going to get through this.” I murmur. “We’re going to beat them.”

Her lip trembles. I can see the way she’s so broken. And I know I did this. I fucking failed her.

“Listen to me, Scarlett, you know what’s coming. You know how this ends. We’re not the losers here. And you’re strong, sofucking strong. Just play along, do what you have to. And in a day’s time, it’ll be over. It’ll all be over. And I’ll be there. I’ll pick up all your broken pieces, I’ll do whatever you need, be whoever you need me to be. And we’ll be free of them, free of all of this…”

She nods, her tears welling in her eyes. She opens her mouth to whisper back but Alexander clearly spots the interaction.

Something hard skitters across the floor. It smashes as it lands between us both and it sprays us with tiny shards of broken crystal. He threw a glass at us. His glass.

“Dance,” Alexander orders.

I look up at him, my eyes narrowing.

“This is a fucking party.” He snaps, clicking his fingers for his goons to spring into action. “I want to see my wife dance, want to watch her beautiful body sway one last time.”

The men behind us yank her up, forcing her to her feet. We can all see Scarlett can barely fucking stand by herself. How the hell is she meant to dance?

He holds out a pistol, aims at her toes and pulls the trigger.

Scarlett screams, falling back, landing on her arse. I try to get to her and am immediately held back.

She’s not bleeding. She’s cradling her feet like she can feel where the bullet must have just missed them.

“I said, fucking dance,” Alexander barks, pointing the gun once more.

She screws her face up but somehow gets back up and I can’t look as she starts swaying to the music.

Her naked body might be marred by blood and dirt and fuck knows what else but even now, she’s so damn beautiful it hurts.

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