Page 133 of Delirium
“Who are you?” I asked again as the figure moved to my right, circling me like a predator. “Please, tell me.”
“I’m so sorry, Birdy,” he answered, and I froze on the spot, looking at the outline of his shadow as he stood on the side, feeling his eyes on my body.
“Tristan?” I breathed out, disbelief fighting against my rational thought. “Tristan, is that you?”
Maybe he was here to save me? Maybe they managed to find me already?
“I never wanted this to happen.” His voice wavered, and as he stepped out of the shadows and into the light, I saw the torment written all over his face, his eyes avoiding mine as he kept staring at my belly.
My naked belly.
“Tristan, what’s going on? Untie me, please.”
But he never moved a muscle, just kept staring at the spot where my twins were hidden.
“I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t deny her. I could never deny her. She’s my family. My favorite person. She always was.”
“Tristan, what the fuck are you talking about?” I growled, trying to push against the restraints keeping me here. The drugs were still in my system, my movements sluggish, but I could get out of here. I knew I could. “Release me. This isn’t funny.”
“I can’t!” he bellowed, finally looking at me. “This is making her happy.” He smiled, nodding frantically. “I need to make her happy. I need her to forgive me for not keeping her safe.”
“Who, Tristan?” He wasn’t making any sense. “Talk to me. Who is she? Is it Belladonna?”
“You don’t understand,” he gritted out. “She needs me. She needs all of us, but my brothers are too enamored by you to see it. But she sees me. She understands me. She can see I want to help her. You’ll see. She deserves this.”
“Tristan, you aren’t making any sense. These are my kids, my life. She doesn’t deserve them.”
“She does!” he bellowed, slamming his hand down on the table, right next to my belly. “These are going to be her kids. The kids she never got because you got to her.”
“Who, for fuck’s sake?” I hated people talking around and around, never getting to the point. “Tell me who?”
“Me,” a new voice piped in. The voice I knew, remembered, loved, cried over never hearing it again. I cried a river of tears for her, for the unfair life she had to endure. For the viciousness with which they killed her.
“Hello, Ophelia,” she said, chuckling at me as she stepped into the light, right next to Tristan. She still looked the same—the same eyes, same hair color, same way that she held herself, but it was the expression on her face, the coldness seeping from her that had me palling as she wrapped her hand around Tristan’s arm, scowling at me. “Miss me?”
“Ava,” I breathed out. “W-what… How?”
“You mean how I survived after you tried to kill me?”What?
“I never tried to kill you. I tried to save you.”
“Liar!” she belted out, narrowing her eyes at me. “You tried to kill me. You took my kids from me, my ability to ever have them!”
“Ava, I didn’t—”
“Stop fucking talking, you filthy bitch!” she screeched, getting in my face. What in the fuck was going on? “You’re going to look so pretty with blood all over you.” She cackled, pushing the gun I didn’t see before to my cheek. “So pretty, so fucked up. It’s almost poetic what I’m going to do to you. And no one is coming to save you. Nobody cares, Ophelia.”
“Ava, please,” I begged. “Don’t do this. I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t—”
“Stop lying, Ophelia. You always said you were the honest one, so be honest for once and admit that you stabbed me, letting me bleed out there.”
I looked at Tristan standing behind her, but he wasn’t looking at me. He knew this wasn’t true, they all knew. I had already proven it, and there was no need for me to lie.
“Ava, I found you there, inside the house, bleeding out on the floor. Tell her Tristan.” I looked at him. “Tell her it wasn’t me.”
“Nuh-uh.” She tsked, grabbing my jaw with her hand, pulling my attention back to her. “We all know it was you. My daddy saved me and told me it was you.”
“He brainwashed you!” I thundered. “You remember that night, don’t you?”
