Page 43 of Deliria

I can’t do this.

Not after last night. Not after what Alex and his father did to me.

My chest heaves. My lungs become so tight I don’t think I can get any breath in.

How could he do this to me? What sort of person does this to anyone? Am I even sick, or is that a lie too? Is all of this some elaborate plot to keep me here?

I palm at my face, at my eyes, and all I can see is horrific moments, flashbacks.

Alex and his father. On top of me. In me.

How long have I been here, how long have they been hurting me? I don’t have a clue. It could be weeks, it could be months. God, what if it’s years? What if I’ve been trapped in this hell for years, and I didn’t even know?

I stare down at those vivid scars on my arms. Did they do that? Did they cut me up too? Were they not content with just raping me? Did they decide to slice me open as well?

I feel sick, I feel disgusted. And all the while that voice in my head keeps repeating that I have no escape. No way out.

I’m a prisoner here.

I have to get out of this place.

But how? How the fuck do I even manage it?

I get up, turning my back on the sea. It’s not been my friend up until now, so why the fuck would I think the situation would change today?

Besides, there’s a whole other side to the island I’ve not explored. Perhaps in the woods there might be something.Maybe there’s a boat, or something I can turn into a boat and I can use that to escape.

Maybe.

I’ll admit I don’t have high hopes, but I’m also not willing to simply do nothing.

It takes a good ten minutes to get to the trees, you can see this part of the island is left well alone. Ignored. Nature is allowed to do as it wants without any interference. It’s a far cry from the immaculately manicured gardens around the mansion.

The woods are a dark, tangled mess.

The air is cool and crisp, the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves fills my senses.

I walk aimlessly, my feet crunching over fallen twigs, my mind a whirlwind of fear and desperation.

Even if I do escape, what then? The Forster’s are one of the richest families in the country. I don’t stand a chance against them. They’ve already got one doctor diagnosing me with a psychiatric illness. It wouldn’t take much for them to convince the world that I’m just a sick woman making wild accusations.

And worse than all of that is I married him. I married Alex Forster. I can’t accuse them of shit without it coming right back on me. No, if I escape, if I somehow manage that miracle, then I have to disappear. I have to become a ghost.

And to do that, I need money – which I don’t have.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stands up, and a shiver runs down my spine.

It’s clear I’m not alone anymore.

I turn around slowly and a jolt of adrenaline courses through my veins as I see him standing there, leaning against a tree. The spade in his hand is dirty, muddy, like he’s just used it to bury a body.

Christ, have I just stumbled upon a murder scene on top of everything else?

Maybe he’s burying some more family heirlooms, or was about to dig them up, about to sneak them off the island and make a quick buck?

His dark eyes bore into mine and that tell-tale predatory smile plays on his lips.

“Going somewhere, princess?” Rafe calls out.

---