The stripper and the assassin

Chapter 4

Delilah's pov

As I slowly pealed my eyes open I recognised I was in a hospital. Lorenzo was sat in the chair next to me.

"What's going on?" I asked looking round. "You're not well Delilah." He said in front of the doctor. I looked at him confused.

"No. No. No. this can't be happening. Sir you have to help me!" I shouted at the doctor. "This man, he's apart of the mafia-" "see there you go with that story again honey. I am not apart of the mafia." He said looking at the doctor. The doctor looked back at him with sympathy.

"Delilah, me and your husband have made the decision that it would be best if you were sectioned at a psych ward." The doctor said looking at me with sympathy.

"What? No!" I shouted ripping the wires out of my arms. "Delilah baby, sit back down." Lorenzo said pushing me back on the bed. "No! Get him away from me!" I screamed hitting him.

Security ran into the room picking me up and taking me out of the room. I was still thrashing and screaming.

"I am so sorry mr Garcia-Russo. We will make sure she gets the care she needs." The doctor said giving him a pat on the shoulder.

"Can I just hug her please?" He asked the doctor the doctor nodded and he held me tightly.

"Who are you gonna tell now sweetheart? No one's going to believe you." He whispered into my ear. I looked up at him in shock slapping him around the face.

"You disgusting prick! How can you do this to me!" I screamed. "You are all- ahh!" I shouted feeling something get injected into my arm. I started feeling drowsy as they lowered me onto the floor.

What is it with people and drugging me.

Two weeks later

"So Delilah, how are you?" My therapist asks me. "You have to believe me ma'am, I'm not crazy!" I pleaded with wide sleep deprived eyes.

"I never said you were Delilah, after careful observation by me and doctor hawthorn, we've come to a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia." Dr Green spoke staring at me intensely.

"No no, you see dr Green I'm not crazy! I do not have any disorders, I am normal. My husband, he's crazy. He's apart of the mafia." I whispered feeling terrified.

"Delilah, your husband is not apart of any mafia. This is your paranoia playing up okay?" She said looking down at her papers.

"No it's not! You're not listening to me you stupid bitch!" I shouted standing up from the chair attempting to leave but two muscular men stepped in front of me, both grabbing ahold of an arm and forcing me back into the chair.

"Listen Delilah, we all just want to make sure you get better okay? Get the proper help you need. And your going to get it here. We will medicate you, offer therapy's. There's so much help that your husband has opened up for you. You should be thanking him." She said looking at me with pity.

I said nothing, silent tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Take her to room 7, dr Anderson is ready to see her now." Dr Green said and the two men stood me up walking me down the corridor.

This was the first time I was out of my room. I looked around seeing patient being restrained, colouring, banging their heads against the walls.

I did not belong here.

The tallest man opened the door and the smaller man shoved me in the room closing the door. Leaving me and the grey haired woman alone.

"Delilah, come take a seat." She said pointing to the chair in-front of her.

I turned around pulling the door handle down but the door wouldn't open. "It's a waste of your time Delilah, it's locked. There's no getting out."

"Fuck sake." I whispered turning around.

I took the seat in-front of her desk looking around the sun filled room. The windows were huge. I wonder if they open.

"So Delilah, I'm doctor Anderson, I'm going to be your therapist throughout you stay here. Do you have any questions?" She asked writing something down on her note pad.

"When can I go home?" I asked quietly. "That depend on your cooperation and your husbands decision." She said placing the pad down.

"Now, we are going to prescribe you with mood stabilisers and antipsychotics." "I don't need any meds." I hissed.

She looks at me sympathetically "so, your husband said you worked as a stripper?" She asked. "I still do, and I'm going straight back to it as soon as I get out of this hell hole." I groaned tilting my head back.

"I'd recommend you didn't, those environments can be very traumatic, damaging if you will." She said taking notes. "There's noting and about it, I love my job. I'm good at my job." I growled.

"I dont doubt that Delilah, tell me, have you ever been touched whilst you worked there?" She asked tilting her head to the side. "What?" I asked confused.

"Without your consent i mean." She asks tilting her glasses down. "No! Never, why would you ask that?!" I shouted standing up furiously. "I want to go back to my room, this is a joke."

"No can do Delilah, we have thirty minutes left of the session." She said leaning back.

"Listen, the quicker you cooperate, the quicker you get to go home with you husband." She offered me a smile. "I'd rather die than go back to him." I seethed.

"You have a lot of hatred towards your husband. Correct Delilah?" She asked taking notes again. "No shit, that asshole lied about everything and sent me here! You would be pissed if you were in my position too." I refused to let the tears exit my eyes.

"Why would he do that Delilah?" "Because I threatened to hand him in to the police." Finally, somebody's going to believe me!

"Delilah, these situations you've made up in your head okay?" Dr Anderson explained. No no no

Why doesn't anyone believe me?!

The door buzzed and the same two men came in taking me out of the room.

"We will talk again Delilah." Dr Anderson said waving.

They dragged me to my room and threw me in locking the door.

This is absolutely insane.