Page 134 of Delirium
“Every single moment,” she answered proudly.
“Then how can you stand here, accusing me of something I didn’t do. You know I wasn’t the one who stabbed you. Do you remember me stabbing you, Ava? Huh? Do you?”
Her eyes glassed over, and I could see she was searching through her memories, but she couldn’t have found me there. She couldn’t have seen me because I wasn’t the one who tried to kill her.
Her face scrunched because we both knew she couldn’t remember that.
“Liar,” she hissed out, pressing the barrel of the gun into my cheek. “You’re trying to lie to me again, but it isn’t working. It’ll never work because I know who you are. I know what a filthy fucking bitch you are, Ophelia Aster.”
“Ava, don’t do this,” I breathed out, trying to move away from the barrel, but there was no use.
“You brought this on yourself, darling.” She chuckled. “And now I’m going to have my kids. Finally, I will get what you took from me. My babies, my darlings.”
“No.” I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears at the mere thought that this psychopath could take my kids. “You can’t have them. They’re mine, not yours.”
“Shut. Up!” she thundered, pulling my head backward, ripping at my hair. “They’re not yours. They’re mine. Only mine. Mine to love and hold and cherish. You wouldn’t know what love is even if it hit you in your head.”
But I did. Maybe I didn’t know back then, but I knew now. I knew I would die for these kids, for Storm, for people I cared about, people I loved.
“You and your sister.” She chuckled. “I thought I got rid of her and that filthy little bastard she carried, but apparently not.”
“Maya?” I looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, darling.” She smiled wide. “You didn’t think that the cartel figured it all out on their own? I was the one who told them about the baby, that it was the son of Kieran Nightingale. My brother deserved better than a filthy Aster bitch, regardless which one of you it was.”
“You kept Maya locked away all these years?” I asked, shocked at the new revelation.
“Kept, tortured, all by my instructions.” She laughed. “She begged and begged and begged to see her bastard son, but El Chupacabra knew he had to keep them separated if he wanted to get into my good graces.”
“You’re fucking insane,” I bit out. “Why would you do that?”
“Leverage.” She shrugged. “Maya would never leave that place if her son was there, and having her think that you were dead only sealed the deal.”
“That’s your nephew, you stupid cow, and you left him with monsters!”
“That’s not my nephew,” she sneered. “He’s a bastard, a kid who never should have existed. But my brother was an idiot who didn’t know how to keep it in his pants. I saved him. He should be thanking me.”
“He will never thank you.”
“Oh he will,” she hummed, dragging the barrel of the gun over my cheek, to my neck and between my breasts, sliding down toward my stomach and stopping right at my belly button. “They’ll all thank me because I killed you. They will be free of you, of your darkness.”
“I’m not the dark one right now.” I smiled smugly. “You are, and they’ll see. They’ll see the depravity in you. And my kids, even if you take them, Ava, they will always have my blood in them. My daughter and my son will always have me with them, always guiding them to be exactly like me.”
“Shut up!”
“No.” It was my turn to laugh. “You can take them from me, take them from Storm, but they will always be my kids, my legacy. Every time you look at them, every time you see their eyes, you will see mine, haunting you from my grave. I will be the spirit you will never be able to shake off. The spirit that will send you to an early grave.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” she kept repeating, covering her ear with her free hand. “These are my kids. My blood. Mine, mine, mine, only mine.”
“Never,” I sneered, my lip curling as I looked at the girl I mourned, loved, and wanted to help. “I wish you a life filled with insanity and fear, Ava,” I grunted. “I wish you a life where you’ll always be waiting for Storm to come and take you to the underworld, because he will come. Trust me, he will come. It doesn’t matter if I die today. I, unlike you, have people who would go to hell and back for me. And you…” I looked at Tristan, disgust rolling over me as my eyes traveled over the pathetic man. “You betrayed your brothers, you idiot. That is your legacy. Your fucking legacy of blood and wrong choices because they will never forgive you for this. You know they won’t, no matter what. I might not be the one who will end your pathetic life, but I’ll be watching, Tristan. And I’ll be laughing, in the darkness, as you take your last breath.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Ava screeched, firing ttwo bullets through the ceiling, thinking that would shut me up.
“I don’t flinch at that, Ava. You know I don’t. You’re as pathetic as he is, holding onto grudges from the past. Grudges that have no ground, when you know I wasn’t the one who destroyed your life. Your father did, but both of you,” I looked at Tristan, “needed somebody else to blame. You needed someone else to put the target on, and that someone was me. Shame on you. Shame on you both.”
“You tried to kill me!” she belted out, making me laugh.
“I didn’t, but now I wish I did. Trust me, Ava.” I lifted my head, looking her right in the eyes. “When I try to kill someone, I don’t only try—I succeed.”
