Page 87 of Deliah
“Deliah, what are you doing?! It’s the middle of the night! Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving,” I snapped, still walking. “Before I get my fucking heart broken again.”
“You don’t mean that,” he said behind me, desperate. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
“Go find another whore to save, Damion,” I threw over my shoulder.
The words hung in the air like gunfire—loud, final, brutal. Behind me, the silence shifted. I didn’t have to look to feel it. He didn’t yell. He didn’t chase me this time. I could hear his breath catch—just slightly—as if I’d landed the blow straight in his chest. When he finally spoke, his voice was nothing like before. No anger. Just broken glass.
“Don’t say that,” he said quietly. “You know you’re not.”
But I was already walking. And I didn’t stop. Down the hill. Into the dark.
“Deliah,” he called again. “Please stop.”
I ignored him.
“Stop following me, Damion! Just leave me the fuck alone!”
“You hit your head. It’s not safe for you to be out here!”
“I don’t fucking care!” I screamed. “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”
And that was when he grabbed me. His arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me off the ground. “Deliah, I can’t let you leave like this.”
“Put me down! Get the fuck off me!” I kicked and screamed, trying to fight my way free.
“You hit your head,” he said, voice tight with panic. “Please, Deliah, let’s just talk about this. Don’t do this—”
“I SAID GET OFF ME!”
And then it hit me. All at once. My body wasn’t listening. My chest caved in. This wasn’t fun anymore. This wasn’t play. This was fear.
“VANILLA!” I screamed, the safe word flying from my lips like a bullet.
He dropped me instantly. Stepped back. Arms in the air, face horrified.
I turned to him, tears streaking down my cheeks, my chest rising and falling violently.
“How fucking could you?” I whispered.
He didn’t say a word. Just stood there, frozen. Broken. I turned and walked. My legs felt like lead, but I kept moving. Away from him. From the villa. From the safety I didn’t know if I trusted anymore.
It felt like hours had passed when I finally reached the bottom of the hill. My feet were sore, my body ached, and my head pounded like a warning siren. I collapsed by the roadside, curled into myself on the cold pavement. I didn’t have a phone. Didn’t have my bag. Didn’t even have a plan. Just me, the night, and the emptiness inside me swallowing everything whole. Tears spilled down again. Heavy. Endless. What the fuck was I doing?Why did I always run? Why couldn’t I just believe someone loved me without needing to rip it all apart? I rocked back and forth, gripping my arms, sobbing into the crook of my elbow like a child. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. I just kept hearing Charlie’s voice.Just another one of his whores. And Damion’s silence. And then that final, terrible thought:I can’t survive another heartbreak.
After what felt like an eternity—just me, the pavement, and the slow unravelling of every decision I’d ever made—I saw him. Damion. His silhouette moved towards me, slow, unsure, like he was approaching a wild animal that might bolt at the slightest noise. I didn’t even try to run. I had no fight left. No words. Just a tight, aching pain in my chest and a hollow kind of numbness settling in my bones. He didn’t speak at first. Just sat down beside me on the pavement—quietly, gently. Not too close, but close enough that I could feel his presence in the silence. Then he spoke.
“Baby,” he said softly, his voice hoarse, “I know you needed space. And I should’ve respected that. But please… just give me five minutes. Let me explain.”
I turned my head slightly, just enough to look at him. My eyes were swollen, my face blotchy. My head throbbed behind my temples, but it was the heaviness in my heart that hurt the most.
“I don’t know if I can,” I whispered. “I don’t know if I want to hear what you have to say, Damion.”
He swallowed hard. “I get that. I do. But I promise you—I would never hurt you. Not on purpose. Not ever.”
I didn’t reply. I just sat there, trembling, waiting. So he continued.
“You already knew about Layla,” he said quietly. “I told you about her. That day you asked how I got into this lifestyle. I told you she was the first person I did this with. That part was true.”
