Page 54 of Mine to Love
“Hurting her made you feel more like a man, didn’t it?” I say, meeting his bug-eyed gaze. “Hitting her made you feel strong. Raping her made you feel powerful. Controlling her made you feel in control.” I remove my boot and kneel beside him. At this point, he’s too weak to even try to fight. But he can feel. And that’s all I need. “That’s not what makes a man, Clive. And neither is this.” At that, I use the knife crusted with his blood to remove his penis. He yells and reaches for the missing appendage, which I hold up with the tip of my knife for him to see like a hot dog on a stick. His eyes widen in horror and his body wriggles as the ninth shock torments him. “Or these.” Tossing his dick to the side, I use the same knife to remove his testicles. Blood floods the space between his legs. Even still, this is not the life-stealing blow.
Standing, I say, “My name is Gio Moretti. Darcy Moretti sends her regards.” At that, I use the heel of my boot to stomp his head in, eliciting the same trauma he tried to inflict on my poor Darcy. I don’t stop until I see his skull and hear it crack beneath me.
One knockon the motel door and Zane opens it from the outside. He hands me a bag with sanitization supplies and fresh clothes. The last thing Delilah needs to see is brain matter on my shoes and blood staining my skin. Quickly, I clean off and change. As I exit the motel room with my eyes fixed on the Range Rover parked in the distance, I sigh in relief. It’s done. He will never hurt them again. Only, now that the threat has beeneliminated, my mind and body have time to feel the weight of the day’s events.
Darcy is unconscious and Delilah has bruises on her arms that suggest she was handled roughly. I don’t know the extent of her injuries. Something tells me the worst of them will be mental. And, somehow, someway, I have to help her heal. I just pray she doesn’t shut down. I pray she isn’t scared of me.
Zane slips into the room behind me to clear it of evidence while I make my way to Damon and Delilah. Still wearing my mask, I take it off before opening the door to the backseat. Inside, Delilah sits, sucking her thumb as she leans against Damon, who was also smart enough to take off his mask. The sight of her steals my breath.
“Hey, sunshine,” I say. My voice breaks as the words cross my lips. Delilah looks at me with wide eyes and my stomach aches. She’s scared. She’s?—
“Daddy!” Delilah scrambles away from Damon and reaches me before I can even get inside the car. She jumps into my arms, latching on to me for dear life, and I catch her because she is my life—her and her mother.
“Oh, thank God,” I whisper. I hold her tightly, bringing my hand to the back of her head as she nuzzles her face into my shoulder. She returns my strong grip, which makes me remember the bruises on her arm. I pull back and inspect her. “Does your arm hurt, sweet girl? Or your wrists?” I note the strips of raw skin from where he had her bound, presumably so she wouldn’t run away.
“Not anymore,” she says, shaking her head. My heart aches knowing she was hurt at all.
“Okay, good.” I hug her once more and give Damon a nod, letting him know it’s time to go. He heads toward the driver’s seat. Zane will finish up here and take my vehicle back to NewOrleans. Damon and I will head back now to get Delilah as far away from this mess as possible.
“Delilah, look at me,” I say then, pulling back so that she can see my eyes. She does as I ask. When she looks at me, I can see how tired she is, how confused she is. Her cheeks are still red from crying, as are her eyes.
It’s then that fresh tears brim over her eyelids. “Where’s Mommy?” she asks. The sadness in her small little voice has my throat raw. And that’s when I remember she witnessed Clive’s attack against her mom. It’s not just the trauma of being kidnapped or the trauma of seeing her mom in a coma that she’ll have to work through. It’s also the trauma of seeing her mom violently beaten. The fear she must’ve had. The helplessness she must’ve felt.God, Darcy, I need you. Weneed you.
“Mommy is at home. She’s sleeping. You see, she’s going to be sleeping for a while because her head was hurt. And the doctor says she needs to rest.”
Delilah nods. “Will she wake up? Can we make her muffins? Maybe muffins will make her wake up like that one time.”
I smile as tears of my own escape me. She is a ray of sunlight, isn’t she? “She will wake up, sunshine. But muffins won’t work this time. We’ll just have to be patient and take good care of her, okay?” Delilah nods, lowering her eyes to my chest.
“But, what about Christmas? It’s not Christmas without Mommy.”
I bring my hand to her cheek and brush her hair behind her ear like I’ve done to her mother a thousand times. The gesture both heals and breaks me all at once. In Delilah, I see Darcy. And that is both the biggest blessing and the most heartbreaking reminder of our current reality.
“No, it’s not Christmas without Mommy. So, you know what, we’ll wait for her. We’ll celebrate when she wakes up, which might mean we get to celebrate longer. Because, in themeantime, we can bake cookies, read Christmas stories, and do all the fun things your mom had planned. How does that sound?” Delilah’s lips lift into a small grin, and she nods. She’s not exactly happy, but she seems content enough with the idea.
“I love you, Delilah. And I know tonight was scary. But I want you to know that I will never let anyone hurt you. I will always protect you. I will always come for you. I will never abandon you.”
Delilah wraps her arms around my neck once more and rests her head on my shoulder. “I know, Daddy. I love you too.” Her words tug at the broken strands of my heart and tether them back together. I’ll never get used to hearing her say that. I can only imagine the power she’ll hold over me as a teenager. Hell, she already does.Yes, baby girl. You’re mine. You’re daddy’s little girl and daddy loves you.
Slipping into the backseat, I get Delilah buckled in the middle so I can keep her close on the way home. It’ll take us about two hours to get back to New Orleans. But at least the worst of this wretched day is over. Though, perhaps I thought too soon. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I see it’s a text from Xander. I’d almost forgotten about Serena’s mystery man or woman—the one who led to her discovering Darcyandunleashing Clive on us. The name burns my retinas as I find myself utterly shocked. It’s rare I’m this surprised. Serena Santos has proven herself a worthy adversary. Good thing I had her killed.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and look at Damon. “We’re going to make one stop before heading home.” He nods without a word.
I wrap my arm around Delilah and kiss the top of her head as Damon pulls out of the parking lot. She quickly falls asleep. With my eyes lowered, I notice the small gift bag on the floorboard. My brows crinkle. I know Darcy and Delilah were out Christmasshopping when Clive found them. The place Darcy was snatched was littered with spilled bags and tissue paper. I wonder what’s so special about this one that Delilah held on to it throughout the entire ordeal.
Rifling through the tissue paper, I find a small leather box from a jeweler I’m quite familiar with. It’s the same one I used for the necklace I gifted Darcy to wear to Damon and Ana’s wedding. Inside the box is a gold pocket watch. The back of it has been engraved.
Time stopped the day we met. We love you, Gio. ~ D&D
Emotion tightens my cheeks as I brush my finger over the words. My lips draw into a smile. When I open the watch, I find a small picture of the two of them on one side and, on the other, I find the clock hands stopped at approximately the time they walked into Arnaud’s.
Yes, time did stop. And it will remain so until you come back to us, my love.
49
I siton my favorite stool at Arnaud’s French 75 and help myself to a glass of bourbon. It’s after hours, so the place is dark and empty. But it won’t be long before the owner comes down from his apartment upstairs. I made enough noise entering for him to know he’s not alone.
As the bourbon slips past my chapped lips, it burns, yet still tastes sweet. I suppose it’s fitting for such a bittersweet occasion. This place has always been one of my favorites in the French Quarter and it’s the place I first met Darcy. I look to my left, finding the arched doorway. I smile as I envision her walking in wearing that wrinkled cream-colored sundress and tennis shoes. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. And now, the pocket watch she and Delilah gifted me with will serve as an additional reminder. The way the sunlight illuminated her blonde hair and pale skin, it’s why I call herangel. And, yet, also fitting, darkness filters in now as my angel lay sleeping.
