Traces of Delilah

Sixteen

What I saw in the lighthouse, was a pair of brass knuckles. It took a few days for me to come to terms with the fact that someone was going to take me out with them. No hesitation. They might have succeeded if they knew how to fight too. If the bat had missed them by inches. If Thomas hadn't unknowingly saved me.

Someone was out to hurt me. No. Kill me. I was willing to bet on that.

What the hell was I to do? I hadn't seen my attacker. I hadn't seen their license plate. The car hadn't shown up in front of our house again either. What good would a police report have done? It would have probably gotten thrown to the side and dismissed.

Why the hell would anyone want to harm me in the first place? I probably shouldn't have asked myself that. There could have been a number of reasons why. It was fucked-up to say. But I wouldn't doubt it had to anything to do with Delilah. And if that was true, it only proved my suspicions. Someone was trying extremely hard to keep whatever secrets they had, buried in this town. Secrets having to do with Delilah.

God, that was it. I couldn't take any of this much longer! I needed to know if Delilah and Damon's deaths were connected. It was about time I'd done some research on him. I wasn't sure why I hadn't thought of that before.

My fingers twitched around the clothes balled in my hands. I was on folding duty. And I was doing a shitty job. Sheesh, I didn't even fold my own clothes like this. This was a disaster.

"What's got you so jumpy?" The voice in my ear caused my skin to shrivel up. I backed away quickly, dropping all the clothes in my hands.

"Seriously?" I moaned, staring at the pile. The culprit sent me a sheepish smile as I glared at him over my shoulder.

"My bad," Jace said. "I wasn't trying to scare you. Just noticed you slacking over here. That's unusual for you."

"It's fine, Jace. Just please don't do it again." I sighed. My blue colored fingernails scraped the floor as I hung the clothes back on the rack. Oh, this was different. Wow, actually, this was the first interaction I'd ever had with Jace as Delilah. Based on the cold shoulder I was giving him; I could say she wasn't his biggest fan.

"You haven't talked to me in a while. Have you been avoiding me every chance you get?" he spoke casually.

I shrugged. "Do I really need to explain myself after your little stunt?"

"My little stunt? Is this about Silvia?" One of his eyebrows rose. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyeing my baffled expression. "I noticed you two weren't on talking terms anymore. I figured something might've happened."

"Oh, so you know. And you didn't bother apologizing. Goodbye, Jace." I let out a hard laugh, trying my best to move away from him.

"Wait, Delilah!" He reached out for my wrist. When he grabbed a hold of it, I narrowed my eyes. A frown crossed my face. He was lucky that wasn't me. As in Chastity. My reflexes worked just fine. And they were telling me, he would've got popped in the face if he tried that with me, as myself.

"Please let go of me," I said slowly. Delilah didn't like the feeling of his hands on her. I could tell by the way I was trying to pull from his grip. When that didn't work, I used my eyes. She must have hoped her gaze was demanding enough. I didn't like the way his hands felt either. They were big, rough, and cold, as though he'd been a walking corpse. The callouses of his hands were peeling due to how dry they were.

"Listen to me," he pleaded.

"Jace. Let. Me. Go," I repeated. When he heard my tone, he released my hand and took a step back.