Page 55 of Delirium
I crossed my arms over my chest, huffing and puffing, but I followed him, my stomach rebelling against the need to turn around and walk back to my room. No, his room.
“You’re not being fair,” I said as I caught up with him just before we entered the kitchen. I looked at the spot where I found him with Nova, and deep inside, I knew I needed to ask him about that as well.
“Was it true?” I asked, looking at him. “Did Belladonna tell you to be with Nova?”
His head shot up from the cupboard, holding a packet of pasta ravioli in his hand.
“Yes.” He simply nodded. “And I was an idiot to play into it.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“Phee–”
“Did you? I mean after.” I needed to know. I already knew he slept with her months ago, but I needed to know if he was with her after I came back. “Please, I really need to know.”
He crossed the distance between the two of us, stopping only a few inches away from me.
“No, not after that first time. And even that first time, I kicked her out the moment I sobered up, hating myself for what I did to you.”
“We weren’t together at the time,” I mumbled.
“It didn’t matter. There I was, angry at you for what you did, and then I went and did the same thing. Even worse because I knew she was a traitor. You told us she was the traitor, and I played right into her web of lies, because I was lonely. I was tired. I was scared for you. I wanted you back. I wanted to punish you and then to hold you. I wanted to spank your tight little ass until you couldn’t walk anymore, and I wanted to show you how much I loved you. I didn’t know what to do, Phee, because you were again running away from me.”
“I didn’t run away from you,” I mumbled.
“I know. I know that now. But back then, just waking up from the coma, just coming to the new home, I wanted you by my side. Hell, I forgave you long ago, but I couldn’t forgive you running away, making me feel as if I didn’t mean anything to you.”
I hated myself for making him feel that way.
“And then this push and pull between us. This toxic connection we started feeding, it wasn’t healthy. I was stuck between you and the Club. I thought that the only way to have you in the end is to first save them. I thought you would understand, and I knew you would have, if only I’d explained it properly.”
“Yeah, well,” I squeezed his upper arm, “it would seem that both of us suck at communication.”
“It would seem so.”
He passed next to me, toward the kitchen on the other side of the dining room, pulling out pots and pans from the cupboards lining the wall, getting ready to cook.
“What did you mean when you said you had something else to tell me?”
His back stiffened, his entire stance defensive.
“Storm?”
“Just remember that I didn’t do it to hurt you,” he said, slowly turning around.
“What did you do, Storm?”
Seconds ticked by as he lowered the pot on top of the counter, his eyes plastered to the floor.
“After I woke up from the coma, I realized that the Club wasn’t in the best shape. I know you don’t know enough about the Club and the businesses we do, but we rely on our mechanic shops around the country, the restaurants and nightclubs we’ve opened over the years, and the hangars where we’re keeping the guns that are being sold to other clubs.”
It would seem that I didn’t know shit.
“After I woke up, many of those places were attacked, taken over… Our men couldn’t hold on anymore, and the money we needed was slowly bleeding dry.”
“Okay.” I understood that. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I was still too weak to go to those places, to deal with deserters and the attacks myself, so I made a deal.”
