We did everything we could. I’ve heard it so many times. Everything isn’t always good enough though, is it?
“Eat something.” Cody’s command sounds more like a plea. He even wears a half smile, as if smiling would make the thoughts in my mind disappear.
The atmosphere changes when his gaze softens. “Delilah, baby,” he says, dropping his fork and striding toward me to pin me between him and the counter. A hand rests on either side of me, but he doesn’t touch me. “You haven’t slept, I’m guessing?” he says and he guesses right. “I know you haven’t eaten.”
The way he cares for me, obviously trying to console me, destroys that nagging bit inside that believes he’s being deceitful.
“You need sleep.” With a single kiss on my forehead, suddenly my mother’s warning fades and I remember what my father told me. I trust my instincts from years ago, when I first met and fell for this man. My gut back then said that I could love him. And the part about secrets? Well, just like I told my mother back then, we all have them.
I share one of them right now. “I’ll have nightmares,” I say, whispering the confession, feeling a flurry of fear run through me.
Cody’s eyes flash with shock and then he rests a hand on my chin. “Is that why you aren’t sleeping?” With both of my hands I pull his away, kissing his knuckles and nodding against his chest.
Leaning into him, it’s easy to close my eyes.
He’s gentle as he holds me, rubbing soothing circles on my back and the fight … or whatever that was a moment ago seems to vanish. Disappearing like it never happened.
He plants small kisses along the crown of my head and tells me, “You’re going through hell. You’re stressed and it’s killing you.”
My eyes slowly open and I stare at the curtains as the panel on the right sways gently from the air exiting the floor vent beneath it.
“I know,” I say and it’s all I admit. It feels like I’m drowning, but there isn’t an ounce of water to baptize my sinful soul in.
There’s a rumble in Cody’s chest, deep and masculine when I lift up my lips and kiss his throat, right against his Adam’s apple. The stubble there tickles the tip of my nose.
A contented sigh leaves him and so I do it again.
I let him feel the hint of my smile against his hot skin when the growing erection he has becomes more than obvious.
“Look at what you do to me,” he groans, as if it’s an apology or perhaps like I’m torturing him.
“How about you fuck me to sleep,” I suggest, wanting nothing more than just that. “Make me forget it all.” My murmur pleads with him and in an instant, a yelp is ripped from me as he lifts me by my ass and sets me on the kitchen counter.
The sudden movement has my heart racing but the heat is all from the longing look in his steely blue gaze.
“Now that I can handle,” he says before capturing my lips with his. His touch is strong, unrelenting and easy to get lost in. With his right hand steady on my hip, his left roams up my shirt and lingers over the curve of my waist. I wrap my legs around his hips and press my feet against his ass so I can feel his hard length against my core.
I’m shameless as I grind against him. I only break the kiss to take a breath of cool air, but Cody doesn’t take the moment to pause. He continues his relentless touches, trailing his warm lips down my neck and kissing along every inch. My nipples pebble as a moan slips from my lips.
“Please,” I beg him. And that single word is his undoing.
“Not here,” he says as he lifts me into his arms and I cling to his broad frame while he takes me to his bed.
When he’s done with me, after fucking me until I scream his name and forcing my release from me, I thought he’d done exactly what I’d asked: to fuck me to sleep and make me forget it all. I thought he had, but he didn’t. Sleep eludes me and all I can see are the palest of blue eyes watching me from a memory in the dark night, judging and waiting.
Cody’s eyes close faster than mine and even though my lungs beg me to breathe in time with him, the sound of his inhales and exhales so soothing, I can’t fall asleep.
I can still feel him inside of me as I slip out of his bed. Leaving the warm sheets behind, I let out a small hum of satisfaction at the hint of pain and pleasure that lingers.
I’m quiet as I slip out, gathering a chair from the dining room and bringing it to the hall closet so I can have just one more look. Sitting cross-legged in the early morning on a hallway floor, plagued by insomnia, digging through a box of a lover’s darkest moments … that’s certainly not anything I ever thought I’d be striving toward. Yet here I am, obsessing over doing exactly that.
As I reach up to the box, my shirt lifting, I’m only vaguely aware of the floor creaking behind me. With my mind focused on the little boy in the photo labeled with the names of two brothers with their uncle, and what exactly each of those papers tells me about him and maybe little hints of what made Cody the man he is, it doesn’t register.
My subconscious is aware that someone is behind me, but my desire for the truth is greedy and requires answers.
“Those aren’t yours.” The single sentence is chilling. With my heart slamming into my throat, I whip around to face Cody, nearly falling off the chair. Caught red-handed.
What makes matters worse is that his eyes look how mine feel. Exhausted and spent. The remainder of his expression, though, is hard and lacking forgiveness.
Swallowing thickly, I tell him, “I’m sorry.”
“I mean it, Delilah.” Cody’s pale blue eyes hold a warning as he adds, “Everyone has their boundaries.”
Marcus
The majority of people in Delilah’s hometown, a staggering ninety-two percent, are born in the hospital that’s thirty miles from her home. It’s where she was born and her sister too. We’re far away at the moment, but I think of that hospital oh so often.
Nostalgia, perhaps.
When I looked up her birth records years ago, I noted her mother was also born in that hospital, delivered by the same doctor. A woman named Meredith was proud to be the lucky doctor who brought them both into the world. Isn’t it a beautiful thing, bringing a new, innocent life into this chaos?
Staring at the monitors while Delilah stares at Cody, I think back on those days, the earliest ones of my life. There’s not much before the barn that I remember. Only the immediate events leading to it. I consider those events my conception. After all, had they never happened, I wouldn’t be who I am.
She was born in the hospital and I was born in that barn.
“I appreciate it, Cody, really I do … but I can’t stay here.” With her arms crossed, Mr. Walsh should know he’s not winning this one. It’s his controlling nature, his arrogance even, in thinking his home is better suited than Delilah’s.
Turning my head to face the window, I can make out their silhouettes through the curtains. From my vantage point, and given their positions, it’s easy to tell they’re having a heated argument. Having the monitors, though, is far more helpful. I should feel guilty that a system I put in place years ago is now being exploited. I should feel many things … and I am, just not the correct emotions.