Page 93 of Deliah
I laughed too. “Yeah, I know. He’s just... intense.”
“You’re intense. He’s just matching you,” she teased, nudging me with her foot. “But seriously... I’m glad you’re alright.”
“I am. Sort of.”
She softened. “You scared me, Del. I know you’re tough and all that, but I had a mini heart attack when I couldn’t get hold of you.”
I leaned into her a little, resting my head on her shoulder for a second. “Thanks for always showing up. Even when I look like microwaved death.”
She snorted. “You’re welcome. Now get in the kitchen and make me a coffee, you dramatic little troll.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed myself off the sofa, stretching as I made my way towards the kitchen. Just as I reached the doorway, she shouted after me, “So it looks like we’re ladies of leisure again!”
“Yeah,” I called back. “Fuck going back to work there.”
We both burst out laughing. Once again, we had no jobs, no plan, and too much time on our hands. Which, for us, was always a dangerous combination.
Chapter 30 –
Kneel
The next few months passed in a blur of sun, laughter, sex, and just the right amount of pulse-racing energy. The weather had turned blisteringly hot, Spain in full summer mode, and Cherry and I made it our mission to soak up every second. Mornings were slow and heavy with heat. We’d sprawl out by the pool in barely-there bikinis, sipping iced coffees and bitching about nothing. By midday, we were usually down at the beach or strolling around Puerto Banús, looking like two very under-qualified influencers on a luxury press trip. Oversized sunglasses, handbags too small to be practical, and not a care in the world. Shopping became a full-time activity. We didn’t need anything; we just wanted everything. Designer shoes, jewellery, little summer dresses that made us feel expensive. And Damion? He only encouraged it. Every few days, he’d leave little envelopeson the kitchen table—stuffed with cash, folded around notes in his messy scrawl.
“Go enjoy yourself, baby.”
“I’ll miss you today.”
“Red. Something red.”
He surprised me with weekend trips, too, tiny Spanish villages tucked away in the mountains. The kind of places with cobbled streets, old churches, and wine that went straight to your head in the heat. We’d sit in little cafés eating olives and sharing secrets, his hand always finding mine under the table. At night, we’d fuck like it was the only way we knew how to speak.
One afternoon, when he was out and the villa was quiet, I rang my mum. “I love him,” I said. I didn’t even realise I’d said it out loud. But I did. With my whole heart. After everything I’d been through, all the heartbreak and mess, I’d finally landed in something that felt real.
I didn’t tell Cherry I was in love with him. Not because I didn’t want to but because something was brewing between her and Tommy, and I didn’t want to add to the tension. It had started subtly. Glances. Silences. The kind of awkward energy you only notice when you know someone inside out. They were like fire and ice, flirty one minute, frosty the next. They’d fight about stupid shit, then disappear to “talk” and come back acting like nothing happened. But I could see it building. And I wasn’t about to dump my love story on her when she was clearly dealing with one of her own. We still had our fun, though.
Nights out with the Boiler Boys were legendary. We’d show up late and overdressed, already tipsy and ready to cause trouble. Cherry and I would steal the show every time, dancing on tables, blowing kisses at strangers, downing tequila like water. I livedfor those nights. The way Damion would stare when I was too loud, too drunk, too much.
When we’d get home, he would just throw me over his shoulder, possessive, jaw tight.
“Is this how we’re doing things now?” he’d say. “You think you can act like that and not get consequences?”
And I’d smile. Sweetly. Innocently.
“What? I was just being friendly.”
That was when the fun really started. I’d been punished more times than I could count. Tied up. Spanked. Bent over the counter before I could even get my heels off. He never hurt me, not really. He just reminded me who I belonged to, what he expected, and every single time, it made me want him more. Winding him up became my new favourite game, and he’d always rise to the bait, stormy eyes and steady hands, dragging me back to his world where everything was sharp. He didn’t just own my body. He owned my heart. My mind. My messiness. And I let him.
I noticed the change in me. I think everyone did. I was softer, somehow. More grounded. Still wild, still bratty, but... different. I had something now. Someone. It was the best time of my life, and I was soaking up every second of it. I’d gone from heartbreak to euphoria in the span of a few months. From crying on the floor to dancing under the stars in designer heels I couldn’t afford. I was in love. What more could a girl want?
Things had been going perfectly, but even the sunniest summers cast long shadows. Tonight, we had a double date planned with Cherry and Tommy, a nice dinner, a few drinks, and hopefully no drama. The restaurant was one of those fancy rooftop spots, with flickering candles, low music, overpriced cocktails. We looked hot. Cherry wore this backless satin number that turned heads from the minute we walked in, and Damion hadn’t taken his eyes off me all night. Tommy was relaxed, in that typical way of his, borderline disinterested, like he hadn’t just watched her walk in looking like sex on legs.
It started off smoothly. A few drinks. Some decent food. Easy laughs. Cherry even reached across the table to wipe something off Tommy’s mouth, all playful and flirty. But I could feel it brewing. That subtle, familiar tension. The way Cherry’s eyes flicked every time Damion leaned over to pour my wine or touched my thigh under the table. She wasn’t jealous of me; that wasn’t her style. But the way Damion treated me? It was everything she wanted, and she wasn’t getting it. She hadn’t laughed quite as hard tonight. Her smile felt rehearsed. The fire was there, but it was dimmer. Then it all cracked.
“So, what romantic little village are you whisking her off to this weekend?” Cherry asked suddenly, her voice a little too sweet, a little too sharp.
Damion gave her a polite smile. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Cherry nodded, a bitter little smile tugging at her lips. “Must be nice.”
