Chapter 8. Fresh Air

Delilah couldn’t sleep, she was too scared to close her eyes while lying in the same bed as him. The room was only lit by the lamp on the bedside table, but it’s light illuminated enough.

The double door closet in front of the bed was filled with clothes; clothes that belonged to a woman and not a man. There was a diary in the drawer on the bedside table, makeup and jewelry in the small box beside the lamp atop of it. She’d searched through this place before finally settling in, and came to the conclusion that this room belonged to somebody else. Beatrice perhaps, but if so, why’d he bring her here? And why… why had he been so adamant on sleeping beside her?

Delilah shuffled in his arms, awfully uncomfortable. His touch repulsed her, everything about him did… she hated the very sound of his voice, the tap of his footsteps… the soft drags of his breath.

She wanted to grab the pillow her head laid against and use it to suffocate him. He was sleeping, she could try, b