Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
“Why would you?” she asks.
I pull up the hem of my t-shirt, exposing my chest. Multiple tattoos line my skin, but the one that means the most is the first one I ever received. I stare at Eden as I trace the calligraphy etched over my heart. Delilah. “I got it when I was eighteen. Ten years after the last time I saw you.” I pull off my mask, needing her to see me, all of me. “Delilah, it’s me. Esau.”
“Esau?” she whispers.
I rush to her. She flinches when my arms wrap around her, pressing her to me like she’s the only thing of value in the world. Because she is. Being without her was crushing black loneliness that stripped the world of its magic, and now, with her in my arms, I experience something I haven’t known since the age of eight. Hope.
Pebbling kisses against her hair and every inch of her face, we hold on to each other like lift rafts as we shed the ocean of tears we’ve kept at bay for twenty years. “Where were you, Delilah? Why were you hiding from us?”
Eden sniffs and pushes away from me. She’s still trembling as she pulls her legs to her chest and tries to make herself small—a sharp contrast to the woman who barged into our place to steal.
I go to touch her, and her eyes hold mine.
“No,” she says firmly.
“Please, Delilah. I had no clue it was you.”
“No, but you knew Eden. You had no problem chopping that guy up over there and making him suffer because you believed he was hurting me. So cut your arm off and shove it up your ass, Esau.”
I smile. She can’t be that scared if she’s mouthing off, right? Because she was about to shit herself when I held the poker by her face.
She frowns. “What are you smiling about?”
“You’re not scared of me.”
Her eyes scrunch, and she turns her head away. “I’m terrified of you.”
I crawl closer and touch her chin, turning her head toward me. “Nah, you aren’t.”
“You were going to brand me.”
“I didn’t know it was you.” I turn to Asmodeus. “Pass me your knife.”
He throws his knife, still standing far away from Eden and me. Pulling the blade out of its sheath, I offer it to her. “You can brand me. I’d offer you the poker, but it’s the letter A, not D or E. So you can carve your initial, your choice.”
“I’m not a psycho. I will not brand someone for shits and giggles.”
“Not for shits and giggles. To tell the world I’m your bitch.”
Eden stares at me like I’m an idiot.
“Just take the damn knife.”
Eden rushes me and grabs the knife before she pushes me back and straddles my chest. The blade tip presses against the front of my neck before she moves it down. The knife won’t do any real damage, but the wound it leaves will scare, and that’s what I want. I like the idea of wearing her on my skin and knowing we’re connected in ways without reason. “I was sold off. Young girl, still a virgin. I got a pretty penny.”
Rage. I go to speak, but she presses the knife against my lips to silence me. Once she’s sure I’m not about to talk, she goes back to carving my flesh. “Sixteen years old, and I finally had a forever home. They took me to a big house and gave me the prettiest room. We went shopping, did my hair and nails, and they bought me all the makeup I could want. It was a damn fairy tale, the poor peasant girl dolled up for the ball.” She takes a deep breath. “But it wasn’t a ball. It was a nightmare. They took me straight to hell. For five years, men, women, couples, priests, pastors, their sons, brothers, and cousins, anyone who paid the price used me. And the worst part? They took away my faith. If it weren’t for Maxim Fedorov and Mikhail Smirnov, I’d be dead or worse.”
“Where are the people who adopted you,” Asmodeus asks. His voice is so cold it could freeze hell.
“They live in Ridgemont. Thomas and Liza Haliburton.”
“Fuck,” Asmodeus growls before locking eyes with me.
I nod at my brother. “Let’s go.”
“Take care of her, Iblis,” Asmodeus orders before we run to his Porsche 911.
Chapter Twenty-Two
EDEN
“Please don’t touch me,” I whisper as Iblis bends to lift me from the ground.
He holds his hands in the air, but his eyes are wounded. I don’t mean to hurt him, but I need space, and these three men crowd my mind, clutter my thoughts and confuse me.
I fumble and fall back when I try to get up.
Iblis is right there with his arm around my waist, steadying me. “Sorry. Didn’t want you to fall.”
Iblis fists his hands in his pockets and looks at the ground. I can see how hard it is for him not to throw me over his shoulders like a caveman and carry me to his cave.