Page 86 of Deliria

Each word is a drop of poison, seeping into my veins, swirling panic and dread in equal parts.

“You can’t be serious,” I rasp, my resolve crumbling like a house of cards. “No. No. I’ve come too far to turn back now. Things are in motion; they can’t be undone.”

Rafe leans closer, the cramped space of the cab suddenly feeling like an interrogation chamber.

“It’s a trap, Scarlett. You need to get out while you still can. Run and don’t look back. Alexander and my father are ruthless. You of all people should know that. They won’t stop until they have what they want, and you are right in the middle of it.”

His words ignite a dark fire inside me, a whirlwind of emotions I can’t contain.

I want to scream.

To lash out.

To attempt one last desperate stand against the looming spectre of danger and disaster that already feels like it’s crashing down on me. But instead, the hard seat seems to fall away beneath me. My heart races, and bile creeps up my throat.

If he does know, if he really does, then I’m in so much trouble.

I stare down at my hands, at my feet, trying to come up with some logical plan, some logical next step to all of this. But what is the next step?

When I look back up, Rafe is still there watching me, and I can’t tell if he’s enjoying my discomfort or if he shares the same bitter feelings of defeat. I know he hates Alex. I know he doesn’t exactly like his father either. Would he help me? Would he have turned a blind eye to what I was up to if I’d gotten further down my path?

“Are you going to tell me where you want to go or what?” The driver snaps, turning around in his seat to glare at us both.

I open my mouth to argue back but as I do, I see Rafe fling open the door and he’s gone. Fucking vanished. Left like a wraith slipping back into the darkness.

“Miss?” The driver continues, narrowing his eyes.

I shake my head, confusion, fear, panic, I flit between them as I stumble back out of the cab and slam the door shut with every ounce of strength I have.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I pull out my phone, my hands trembling as I navigate the call list to find my brother’s name.

I can’t wait—everything is crumbling so quickly, and I need my anchor, I need him.

“Please,” I mutter at the phone as it rings. Tears spill onto my cheeks; I must look an absolute wreck but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now.

It’s over. All of this.

“I need your help…” My voice breaks as I state that fact out loud, guilt twisting my stomach for dragging him back into this. “It’s over… it’s all over.” The words crash against the air like a wave that pulls me under, and panic is like the rising tide sweeping me away.

My brother’s voice feels a million miles away, muffled and lost in an ocean of urgency.

I can’t wait for him to respond; I want to drown in his assurances, to hear his strength filter through the line.

But instead of words, all I can manage is a sob that breaks the silence, raw and primal, echoing the dread coiling within me. I’m fucked. So fucking fucked.

“Scarlett?” His voice, laden with concern, cuts through the haze. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“I was at the gallery,” I blurt out, words tumbling out like a waterfall bursting through a dam. “Rafe, Rafe got in the cab with me and told me that Alex knows everything. All of it.” The confession erupts from my trembling lips, the weight of those words threatening to shatter the last mask of courage I am barely holding onto. “He knows who I am, who our family is. Everything.”

“Okay, okay, listen to me.” My brother’s voice steadies me, but it still can’t stop the swell of panic that’s taken over. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes, it is.” I scream. “It is. He knows, Seb. He knows. I have to get out. I have to get out right now.”

He breathes in a sharp breath. “Okay. Can you make it to the pick up point? I can meet you there.”

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