Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series) (28 page)

She was feeling pretty intoxicated and I know she thinks I was drunk
when I was anything but. I couldn’t stand being so close to her all night and not feeling her lips pressed on mine. Curiosity got the better of me and I needed to know firsthand what her lips felt like. We’ve known each other over two years and I’d always been respectful of her boundaries, but I had to know. With those perfect, heart-shaped lips, full and soft, I was dying to try them out.

Kissing has never been my style because being with a girl longer than a couple of hours has never been my styl
e—
well, not since high school. Nevertheless, as soon as I met my eyes with hers, the desire to kiss her grew every day. That night in the hotel room may have been a lame move on my part, but she has yet to tell me no when we make little wagers, and kissing her has remained the best bet I’ve ever made. We have yet to declare a winner or mention the kiss at all, though maybe that’s something I will bring up with her to lighten the heavy mood that will inevitably surround us.

***

I must have dozed off because Mia’s babbling startles me awake around nine. Reggie is sitting on the floor with her straddling his lap and they are playing with one of her shape toys. He will plop a shape in the matching hole and Mia will giggle then hit the top for Reggie to do it again.

I sit forward and dig the heels of my hands into my swollen eyes
then put the foot rest down on the recliner and stand, stretching my arms over my head when Mia comes running up to me,demanding to be picked up. After all the hell of yesterda
y—
the death of her mothe
r—
this little squirt can still bring the biggest smile across my face.

“Hey there
, Axl,” I say, lifting her little body in my arms. Mia grabs onto my shoulders and starts her gibberish, speaking a mile a minute, and I have no idea what she’s saying. I’m sure she’s made up her own language. Mianese is what I call it.

“Have you heard from Delilah?” Reggie asks after getting Mia something from the kitchen. I set the little tyke on the floor and turn on Mickey Mouse.

“Nah. Not since last night. She decided to drive because she couldn’t get a flight.” When I look outside the rain is still steadily coming down and the sky is dark gray and cloudy.

I suddenly
worry that I haven’t heard from her. I pull out my cell phone and scroll through my text messages, but there’s nothing new. Not knowing where she’s at and it’s driving me crazy, I decide to text Delilah and pray she’s okay.

Me:
How’s the drive going? Where are you?

Not even thirty seconds
pass and my phone pings with a new incoming text.

Delilah:
Just got through Detroit

She’s making good time
; in fact, she making too good of time. The woman has a lead foot, but driving like that in rain will only lead her into the side of the road in a ditch.

Me:
Please be careful. Pull over if you’re too tired.

Delilah:
Then stop texting me while I’m driving.

God, she’s stubborn as hell sometimes. I toss my phone on the table
and then make my way into the kitchen, pulling a Mountain Dew from the fridge at the same time that Reggie pours himself another cup of coffee; the exhaustion is written all over his face. I’m sure he didn’t get much sleep last night, comforting Darcie and worrying about Drake. We stand together without saying anything, both of us still trying to accept what has happened less than twenty-four hours ago.

Reggie breaks the silence
, sending a chill down my spine. “I’ve made an appointment with the funeral home at four o’clock this afternoon. I expect everyone to pitch in on the cost. There’s no way in hell Drake is putting out a dime to pay for her funeral. Money is the last fucking thing he needs to be concerned about.” He rakes his hands over his newly cut short hair and releases a deep sigh, stress evident on his face. “Do you think Delilah would want to come help make the arrangements?”

“I understand and can definitely throw some money in. I will ask Delilah if she wants to go with us
; I’m sure she will.” Delilah is going to have a hard enough time when I tell her how Presley died and I’m sure going to make the arrangements will be just as challenging. “Did you let Drake know?”

“He hasn’t unlocked his door since he went in. I
’ll give him a few more hours then I will check on him. You do realize how hard this is going to be on him, on all of us?” Reggie’s face is stern, on the verge of giving me a lecture about my inappropriate behavior, but little does he know that there is nothing I could do to make this situation into a joke. That may have been how I handled my mother and father’s deaths to cope with the loss of them, but this is entirely different.

My parents were idiots and worthless.

Sure, Presley was lost in the world of drugs once, but what makes it so tragic is that she was finally finding her way when she was killed. She was my brother’s girlfriend, like a sister to me, and I will do what I can for him and my niece.

“Don’t worry about me
, Reg. I’m not who I used to be, a lot has changed lately and I won’t be a fuck up.” A twinge of guilt comes over me when I think about all the times I’ve acted like an idiot or completely inappropriate because I didn’t know what else to do. Those days are long gone. Since last summer, something in me has changed and I think it’s for the better. I have yet to pinpoint it, but I know it’s there, growing and encapsulating me.

“Yeah
, I know you are and I’m proud of you.” Reggie claps me on the back as he walks to the living room, scooping Mia up in his arms. “Where’s your brother? Have you talked to him since it happened?”

Jeremy has been hauled up in the garage since Presley’s death. He
has been acting really strange, like he’s lost his grip on reality; especially right before the cops showed up. “Nope. And I heard him leave around six this morning. I’ll call him and see what he’s doing.”

When
Reggie and Mia walk back to his room, the clicking of his door sounds behind him. I pull out my phone and dial Jeremy’s number. It rings several times and I’m ready to hang up when he answers, breathless and quiet. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Where the hell are you?” The sound of clanking and
a garage door shutting is coming from his end of the phone. Moving to the window, I look to see if he’s outside, but his car is not there.

“I’m meeting up with Ronnie real quick then I
’ll be home. Is…is everything okay?” Jeremy asks and I’m instantly livid. Teachers always say in school
no question is a stupid question
, but Jeremy has just proved them wrong. Is everything okay? That is the definition of a stupid fucking question. He’s been acting very strange lately and last night his violent, animalistic behavior would have been enough to commit him to the loony bin.

“What the hell is the matter with you? No
, Jeremy, nothing’s okay! A girl you considered as a sister is dead and you’re off fucking around with Ronnie.” I’m pissed, finding it hard to control my anger and my fists. Rage is building and I want to plow it into the drywall. “Get home!”

“Fine
,” that’s all Jeremy says before the line goes dead and I turn to the basement door, slamming my fist into the wood. Luckily, it’s solid wood and not the cheap hollow crap you see in apartments so it doesn’t break, but my hand is angry with me now as my sliced open knuckles leak blood.

***

Another two hours have passed by and I finally decide to shower and shave to help pass the time. The rain has continued falling, and for eleven o’clock in the morning, it looks more like eleven at night.

I quickly shower and shave
, and as I exit the bathroom, I peek into Mia’s room to make sure she’s still napping. Reggie laid her down right before I got into the shower then left for the bar to work for a few hours. I haven’t seen Darcie since it happened, although I’ve heard her tears and Reggie’s muffled condolences off and on since she shut herself in her room.

When I round the corner into the kitchen
, a black Lexus pulls into the drive. She’s here.

I toss my dirty clothes down the basement steps and watch her drive down the driveway, over the faint
blood-stained spot on the concrete, and park in front of the garage, taking Jeremy’s designated space.

The cold rain awakens my skin
as I watch Delilah stepping from her car with her eyes fixed on the ground and focusing solely on getting out of the car. Then realization smacks me square in the face. I haven’t seen her in months, surviving only on her voice, and now my eyes are finally able to take her in. She’s beautiful, wearing a pair of tight jeans and a zip up hoodie. Her hair flows freely down her back and I’ve never known it to be possible that someone could look so breathtaking while feeling so devastated.

A
s I look at the woman in front of me, I finally understand why Drake is experiencing this gut wrenching agony. When I look at Delilah, I see my other half, the person who I’m supposed to be with, my destiny. She’s been in my life for over two years and I’ve spent several of those days with her, and it hasn’t been until this very moment that I’m falling completely hard—plummeting down at a rapid speed—straight for her. All the new feelings thriving inside me have a purpose and that purpose is Delilah.

She is my Heaven and earth; the good in my
fucked up life and the one person who cares to look at my flaws and love them. She’s the one who challenges me, supports me and pushes me to be a better person. She is my soul and I would be lost without her. My breath remains strangled in my throat when I finally know that I’m in love with this woman. I love Delilah.

The sound of her trying to lift her suitcase from the trunk and the chill of the spring rain snaps me back to the present. I finish descending the stairs and stop short when her eyes meet mine. She’s soaked, saturated from the rain
, as am I, and her body begins to tremble, on the verge of breaking.

I run to her, catching her weary frame in my arms and fall to the ground before she hits the concrete
, holding her close to my chest.

The saddest sound comes from her throat as her body racks violently from sobs. I hold her tight, s
o tightly that it’s nearly hurting her. I want her to know that I’m here and will always be.

“
Shhhh…. sweetheart,” I soothe. I’m sitting on the unforgiving pavement with the woman I love melded into my arms. I have no idea how to comfort someone who’s lost a person so significant in their life, but there’s no way I can’t comfort her. I squeeze tighter, only hoping it evaporates some of the pain in her heart.

After several minutes
, and being soaked from the rain, she finally calms enough to function. When she pulls her head back, I look into her ocean blue eyes and become hers. She owns me in this moment. I love her and the need to make her eyes smile again encompasses me as her legs are curled in my lap and her body presses against mine. I pull her back, cupping her cheeks in my palms, wanting to take her pain away. I want to press my lips to hers and I want to take all the hurt away; to erase everything she feels with the love that has newly formed within me.

My eyes flick down to her
heart-shaped lips quickly then back to her eyes. She seems scared, which makes since; I know I’m scared as hell. Scared shitless she doesn’t want this because the rejection is not what I want to take in just yet. Rejection has always lived hand in hand with my life, but to have her rejection, it would kill me. Instead, I place a kiss to her forehead and whisper to her, “You’re freezing. Come on; let’s get you out of the rain.”

Delilah climbs off my lap and I stand, grabbing her suitcase from the trunk. We start to walk to the back stairs when Delilah sees the red stain on the concrete. She stops, examining the spot. Her eyes are fixed to the place where Presley
has bled out and died.

“Where’d this come from?”
she whispers as the rain drips off and rolls down her face.

“Come on. We’ll talk inside.” I just want to walk away. This will be too much for her to handle right now and she’s shivering from the cold rain.

Her eyes snap to mine, a raging ocean fueled with anger. “NO! Tell me where this came from!”

Releasing a breath and bracing myself to catch her when she falls
, I answer, “This is where she died.” Delilah’s body hunks forward and I catch her in my arms, holding her upright with my arms tightly around her waist and pressing her against my chest.

“Tell me, Jake. What happened?” She moves her arms around my neck, resting her head on my chest.

My heart breaks into smithereens when I have no other choice other than to crush her with my words, telling her how her best friend has died. “Carter came for her. She ran into him earlier that day and later on last night he came to the house looking for her. When Drake went outside to confront Carter, he pulled a gun and Presley intervened. He shot her in the stomach, and by the time the ambulance arrived, she had died.”

Delilah’s legs give out and I scoop her up in my arms, knowing she no longer
has the strength to stand. Abandoning her suitcase, I take the steps two at a time, walking carefully on the rain-slicked, rain-soaked wood as I ascend, then carry her into the house and down to my room. Since Drake has moved back in, Delilah’s room is now where Mia sleeps and we no longer have a room for her.