Page 24 of Edging Sanity

A wicked smile played on Delilah’s lips as her thumbs stroked along the front of Rowan’s throat. There was no pressure. She didn’t need to threaten Rowan to keep her frozen in place. Delilah wouldn’t hurt her. Not yet.

“Long enough,” Delilah said, watching the slow and languid motion of her thumbs.

“Why now?” Rowan whispered, her voice rougher than she wanted it to be. Lust fueled her thoughts as the rational part of her brain fought for control.

“You can’t rush these things, darling,” Delilah purred, fingers dancing along Rowan’s skin and pressing into her collar bone. “It’s not easy hunting while locked in a cell. But”—Delilah’s gaze darted behind her, and Riley’s hands tightened around Rowan’s wrists—“Riley was quite helpful. Did you know she’s skilled at acquiring information in… creative ways?”

Rowan’s thoughts immediately shot to Friday night, mentally assessing every single detail of what she remembered telling Riley. It was impossible to ignore the lawyer's presence now that the memories swirled through Rowan’s mind. The pressure on her wrists increased almost to the point of bruising.

“What information did she get from me?” Rowan asked, needing to know the answer despite knowing she shouldn’t feed into this.

“Nothing I can’t get myself,” Delilah said, her hands tightening momentarily around Rowan’s throat before she released her. Delilah smiled, tilted Rowan’s chin up, and ran her thumb over Rowan’s lip. “I don’t need help breaking you.”

Psychological warfare was not new to Rowan. That was Delilah’s game. It had been from the start, she’d just been too wrapped up in her own desires to see it. Riley’s sole purpose was to get into Rowan’s head. To make her question everything, everyone.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Rowan asked, not that she thought Delilah would answer.

Delilah’s response was a smirk. A vicious, deadly, dangerous smirk. “Get out. I need to discuss things with my lawyer.”

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

The day had been so chaotic that Delilah had missed her court mandated therapy session—not that Rowan was upset. She needed time to think, to prepare for what Delilah might do. They’d spent hours in that room, Delilah and Riley, after kicking Rowan out. Plotting. Scheming. Rowan was falling more and more behind, kicking herself for whatever information Riley had gotten from her. From the implication that the whole thing was a set up.

When Riley finally told Rowan they were finished, her hand lingering on Rowan’s bicep and her eyes promising this wouldn’t be their last encounter, Delilah was absolutely furious. Their short walk back to her room was silent, Delilah’s fuming directed not at Rowan, but Riley. And that left Rowan wondering what the hell Riley did to make Delilah so angry.

Rowan spent the entire night thinking. She’d hardly gotten any sleep at all. Riley had texted her, a hidden threat.

Can’t wait to see you again.

Tuesday morning left Rowan worse for wear. The lack of sleep was catching up to her quickly, but the adrenaline of seeing Delilah again after the new revelation was overtaking her exhaustion. Anticipation thrummed through her veins as she walked slowly down the hallway, inching steadily closer to her fate.

“Hands on the wall,” she ordered—as she always did—when she reached Delilah’s room. The stark change in their relationship made her fidget while she waited for Delilah to comply. Everything felt different now. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders that she hadn’t known she was carrying.

Things between them were shifting. The secrets were dissolved. They were even now, playing on the same level. Rowan didn’t have to hold back.

“How did you get the knife?” she hissed while she cuffed Delilah’s wrists. Delilah smiled at her, none of the ire from the previous day showing.

“I already told you,” she said, enjoying this entirely too much. “An admirer.”

“Bullshit. I know you killed her.”

“Prove it,” Delilah taunted, eyeing up the officers guarding the door as Rowan pushed her down the hallway.

“Tell me how you did it,” Rowan demanded, her voice low to keep the officers behind them from hearing.

Delilah hummed, leaning into Rowan’s space as much as she could manage. “Why do you want to know? Taking notes?” she asked, looking up at Rowan through her thick lashes. “Want to try something out yourself?” Her voice was a seductive purr, a tease, a warning. Rowan’s body heated in response. “You know I’ll never say anything incriminating. My lawyer is prepared to handle anything, and I am not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”

“You don’t even know what you want from me, Delilah.”

She didn’t give Delilah a chance to respond before throwing the door to Bronwin’s office open and shoving her inside. She would be lying if Rowan said she wasn’t worried about this session, if she wasn’t thinking about what Delilah would say or do now.

Rowan’s body was alight with awareness as she cuffed Delilah to the chair in front of Bronwin’s desk. She was tense, expecting something, anything, but Delilah wasn’t giving an inch. Her predatory gaze followed Rowan. She tried to remember how to walk normally on her way to take up her standard position against the wall.

“Well,” Bronwin said, her tone huffy despite the forced smile on her face. “It has been a busy few days for you, hasn’t it?”

Delilah stared at her, unimpressed and clearly unwilling to participate in their session today.