Page 20 of Deliria

Even if I turn back now, it’s not a guarantee I’ll make it to shore. But if I keep going, if I keep moving on… I swallow, taking wider strides, stumbling on the uneven path that I can’t see beneath the churning water.

I can’t go back. If I do, I’ll be signing my own death warrant.I don’t know how I know that fact, but there’s a voice screaming in my head, repeating it over and over. I have to continue on. I have to escape. Before it’s too late.

I press on, driven by a desperation that overwhelms all my common sense.

But as the waves crash over my knees, panic sets in.

I’m not a strong swimmer, and the realization that I could be swept out to sea absolutely terrifies me.

I can’t go back so I have no choice but to to start swimming. Kicking my legs, submerging my body further into the murky depths, as sheer desperation forces me onwards.

“Scarlett,” a voice calls out from far behind, carried like a ghost on the wind.

I don’t need to look to know who it is.

But his presence makes me all the more determined to get away. I swim faster, more haphazardly, my eyes fixed on the shore so damned far away, but the water has turned to waves. It feels like the current is pulling me under and try as I might, my body is too weak to fight.

I’m going to drown here. I’m going to die here, right this moment, and all of this will be for nothing.

A wail escapes my lips as I slip under. Water rushes into my mouth and it tastes so salty and disgusting. With every splutter more water covers me.

I’m drowning. I’m drowning.

And then he’s there, acting like some sort of hero when he’s anything but.

His strong arms lock around my pathetic body, pulling me back, all but dragging me from what is almost certainly a watery grave.

I splutter, falling onto my knees in the sand, spitting up the salty water that moments earlier had threatened to engulf my lungs.

His arms wrap around my waist, picking me up and carrying me further back and to safety.

And yet, it isn’t safety, is it? He might have saved me from immediate death, but I know what awaits me in that house. I know that I will fade away, that I will drift off until I am nothing but a shell of a person. Nothing that resembles me.

I struggle against him, lashing out with words fuelled by frustration and fear. “Let go of me. I have to get out of here.”

“You’re being reckless,” Rafe growls, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me away from the dangerous waters. “You could have drowned.”

I push against his chest, breaking free from his grasp and falling once more at his damned feet. “I don’t understand. Whydo you care? You’ve made it perfectly clear that you won’t help me.”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, his gaze stormier than the sky behind us. “Jesus Christ, Scarlett. I may not be able to help you, but that doesn’t mean I want you dead.”

His words hang in the air between us, and it feels like a silent admission of his own helplessness in this twisted game. I shake my head, refusing to be swayed by the glimmer of compassion he’s suddenly deigned to show me.

“I didn’t think you’d be so stupid as to try that again.” He adds.

Again?

So I did it before? I tried to leave before?

“When? When did I try?” I ask, feeling this information might lead me to real answers.

He just shakes his head and all that anger inside me seems to explode.

I lash out, slamming my fists into his chest.

“Just stay away from me, Rafe. If you won’t give me answers, then just stay away. I don’t need your pity, or your brother’s, or anyone else’s in that godforsaken house.”

With that, I turn on my heel and march back toward the mansion, my heart pounding with a mixture of anger and despair. Rafe doesn’t follow me, but I can feel his eyes on my back, watching me until I disappear from sight.

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