Delilah

A bottle of wine, two beers, and three grilled cheese sandwiches later, Jason is dancing with me in the kitchen.

We’re happy.

We’re stuffed.

We’re drunk.

We’re high on life.

We’re turned on.

That’s nothing new. I’ve never felt so alive, or is it more that I never knew how empty I felt? Like a summer storm, he wrecked all my plans. But in his destruction of that planned life, he gave me a sunrise of hope. I gasp in pleasure. “I suspect you wear these dresses to tempt me into sinning.”

“Is it working?” I ask through broken breaths.

“It’s working.” He moves, going deeper. “The fair was fun, but if I could spend every night buried deep inside you like I am now, I’d never leave this farm.”

“We were arrested. That wasn’t fun.”

Laughing against the back of my head, he says, “We weren’t arrested, but fuck, you sure do know how to use that smart mouth of yours sometimes.”

“Too much?”

“No, it’s fucking sexy.”

Currently pinned to the counter in front of the sink, my skirt is bunched above my ass. My panties are in shreds on the floor. His shoes push against my boots while he pushes into me.

Again.

And again.

Closing my eyes, I chase the darkness that alights with fireworks of desire. Fuck, I want it. Like him, I want it so badly I can taste it—salty sweet—from an hour earlier when I made Jason fall apart, dropping his guard and getting off as he watched me take him deep in my mouth.

He’s close.

His thrusts are becoming erratic.

I’m close.

The thought of him being turned on turns me on. So much. My fingers sting from the pressure of holding the edge of the counter so hard. Leaning onto my elbows, his fingers dig into my hips as he comes. Mine follows fast. My mouth falls open, releasing a rough moan. “Jason.” His name is dragged through my body’s vibrations.

Reaching behind me, my breath returns as I fist his T-shirt. Opening my eyes, I scream. I push away from the window in front of me.

Those eyes.

The eyes that have haunted me.

“Shit! What? What is it?”

Pointing toward the window, I say, “Cole. Cole. Co—”

“Cole? What?” Jason spins me around to face him. “Cutler?”

“He’s out there. He’s out there, Jason. I saw him. I saw him.”

His pants are up, and he’s running out the back door. Is he real? Is he here? Surely I’m hallucinating. I run to the front door to look for his car, and as I swing it open I’m charged—one hand covers my mouth and the other holds the back of my head. I scream, my eyes wide while Cole pushes me into the house.

“Shut up,” he demands.

I’m grappling for anything I can grab while being shoved too fast to comprehend what’s happening. I’m pushed backward into the hallway. My back hits the corner before we clear it, but there’s no slowing him. He pushes harder as I wince in pain. With his hand over my mouth, my attempts to scream are squashed. My eyes water in pain and fear, and I try to grab his wrists to pull them away.

Cole’s body is hard, harder than natural. Staring into his bloodshot eyes, the pupils are pinpricks. His strength is extraordinary.

He’s not drunk.

He’d be sloppy.

He’s high on something.

I continue to try and scream as I claw at his arm. Nothing deters him. With the strength of an army, he pushes me into my parents’ room. The door is locked, and I’m shoved to the ground. “You think you can make me look like a fool and get away with it? Is that what you thought?”

Scrambling away from him, I hit the bed with my back. “Listen to me, Cole—”

“No.” I’m whacked with the back of his hand, and my ears ring. “I told you to stay away from him and what do I find out? You’re fucking him, and he’s living here.” He stands over me, his anger surging. “I saw you in the kitchen. You let him treat you like a whore. Is that what you want? You want to be treated like that?”

“He’s here, Cole. He’ll find us.”

“Do you let him fuck you in our bed?” His eyes dart to the mattress and back. “Like I used to fuck you?” Reaching for his belt, he starts to undo it.

White-hot fear runs up my spine. The sound of his belt through the loops. His rapid breathing. The crazed look in his eyes. Too many memories flash before me, and I become paralyzed with fear. But then somewhere in the white noise I hear Jason’s voice. “I won’t let him come after you, Delilah. You’re my everything.” He’s here. He knows my house like the back of his hand.

I look back up at Cole. He’s not in his right mind.

I won’t be able to reason with him, but I won’t die on his timeline either. Grabbing one of his legs, I yank it forward sending him to fall on his backside. He’s too quick to recover for me to get far. My boot is grabbed as I lunge away from him. With my body free as he holds the boot, I move to get to my feet. We both are upright at the same time, and he charges me again. I get one good hit and start to run, but he grabs my hair and pulls me back to the ground, my head hitting the wood floor.

My vision is spotty. I struggle to stay alert as my body is dragged into the bathroom. I hold his wrists to take pressure off the hair that’s being ripped from my scalp. Kicking my feet, my socked foot slips on the floor, and I have no grip.

The water is turned on in the tub, and I’m dragged closer. “Cole,” I scream, tears streaking down my face, my heart racing. “Please.”

“Please what? You’ve ruined everything. Everything was for you.”

“Please stop. You’re hurting me.” He steps into the tub, pulling my body with him. As he slides down the tile, he cradles me against him, my back to his chest, his hand squeezing my neck. My head is pushed under the water. Even as my air is cut off, I find comfort in the warmth of the water.

I kick while struggling to loosen his hand from my throat. The black spots spread, the bright light of the bathroom dimming under the pressure of death.

I always thought death would follow a filtering of flashing memories, the ones that made you happy, feel alive and loved. I was lied to. Every regret I’ve had in life is given a front-row seat to my breaking heart, the memories forefront in my mind, the ones I would change . . .

Jason walks across the field with a football under one arm and a letter in the other. I know what it is. It’s the letter that will end us. He’s gotten the scholarship he’s been wanting and I’ve been dreading. He’ll move on without me. He knows my family can’t afford for me to go away to college. He knows we’re barely making tuition now.

How can he leave me?

After four years, I thought we were heading for the aisle, not a breakup.

Talented. Skilled. Handsome. So ruggedly handsome. Strong. Smart. He got a scholarship to the local university for his grades. The school just lucked out that he was an amazing football player too. Guess he’s not McKinney’s secret weapon any longer.

He was mine.

Every girl here wanted his attention, but he only gave his time to one—me.

I should be grateful for the time we had together. I’m not, though, because I’m in love with him. As my heart shatters to the ground, I watch his team pat him on the back and the other cheerleaders congratulate him. When he’s a few feet in front of me, he stops, reading my inner emotions. He’s always seen me too clearly.

I’m not ready to hear the words. I’m not ready to wake up tomorrow and know he’s not mine anymore. Is Cole right? Has Jason felt held back by me, but hasn’t felt he could say that? I can’t hold him back, and if I don’t go, he’ll stay. I don’t want him to give up his dreams for me.

If he’s decided there’s no place for me in his new life, I’ll not stop him from taking his chance. It will break my heart . . .

How do you ever repay someone who sacrifices their own dreams for your petty needs to be loved? You don’t.

A football scholarship means that team owns him. His focus needs to be football, not me back home. The distance will kill everything we are. So many words echo around my head. I can’t question myself any longer. I have to let him go so he can be everything he dreams of being.

Dropping my pom-poms into my bag, I grab the handles and lug it over my shoulder. He moves in. “I’ll carry it.”

“I got it,” I snap at him. Without waiting, I start to leave.

“Delilah, wait. I wanted to share the good news.” He catches up next to me. “I got the transfer.”

“Yeah, I know.” I try to sound disinterested to cover the sobs filling my chest.

“Hey!” I look back to find he stopped walking a few feet back. “What’s wrong?”

The hand-delivered letter from the new coach seems too white under the bright lights of the stadium. I choose to stare at the ripped-open envelope instead of the golden-brown eyes that will weaken my knees and my resolve. Stick to what’s best for him. Cole warned me. “Don’t become a hindrance he’ll regret one day. He’ll get rid of you as soon as he transfers anyway.” Think of Jason. Protect my heart. I blurt, “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“What?” The words come like a slap. “No, Delilah.”

. . . More water. It pours over my head, drowning the memories with the remainder of my life. The only way to express the immense love I’ll carry with me comes between coughing, “Jason.”

I push one more time, putting all the strength I can muster behind the effort. Water sloshes over the side of the tub, then it hits me. Cole’s muscles have softened.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Falling over the side, my shoulder hits the ceramic base of the toilet. Cole reaches for a gun on top just as Jason barges in. The gun goes flying across the small room and spins on the linoleum. Jason grabs the gun and then me under my arms. He pulls me free from the room, but everything still seems fuzzy. “Are you okay? Delilah, speak to me. Say something.”

Despite almost drowning, my throat feels dry. I cough. “You came for me.”

He kneels down and lifts me up. I’ve never gripped him so tight, so desperately. Whispering rapidly, he says, “Go to Ricardo’s and wait for me. Tell him what’s happening.”

“We’ll go together.”

“No. I’ll handle this. Go!”

I grab my boot from the floor and take off running. Pushing through the front screen door, I run down the steps and across the lawn. I don’t stop until I reach the field. Just beyond where the porch light reaches, I stop and step into my boot before taking off again.

Halfway across the field, I hear a car and stop running. It’s not a cop car, nor any car I recognize. The windows are too dark to make out if anyone is inside the back. Two men get out and start looking around. I drop to my knees keeping my head hidden until I feel it’s safe to take another look.

They’re on the porch.

Oh no.

Jason.

They open the door and go inside.

I start running, but don’t make it to the edge of the field before I hear a gunshot ring out stopping me in my tracks.

Jason.

I run as fast as I can until I reach the border of the floodlight on the side of the house.

Another shot causes me to duck.

Hiding behind a tree, I look over trying to see inside the house.

My gun.

I have to get to my gun. I have to help him.

I love him too much to lose him.

He promised me.

I’m his future.

I’m his future.