Once I arrive at the abandoned building, I rush inside. My heart racing harder with every step. I'm praying it's not too late. I can't imagine my life without Delilah. The guilt of causing her death would ruin me. I pray I won't have to face such an existence. I kick open the first door I come across. The man in the room jumps up from the couch as the door falls off its hinges.
"What the fuck!" He shouts, the joint he'd been smoking tumbling to the ground. The whole place reeks of weed, I could smell it even before I walked in.
I don't care to give him a second glance, instead scanning the whole room for Delilah. I don't have to search long. The blood trail coming from the room's right side is enough to tell me where she is.
The man who'd been sitting on the couch walks toward me. "Who the fuck are you?" he growls, but I don't answer and push him out of the way.
Dropping to the floor, I take Delilah's head in my lap once I get to her. All the anger I felt as I drove here vanishes as I hold Delilah in my arms. I pull her bloody, unmoving body close to my chest, and a pained growl is ripped from the depths of my soul. My heart tears apart as I hold her. Her wounds are so bad that my whole shirt is soaked with blood. I touch the marks these monsters left on her, and my heart hurts even more. This is my fault. I wish more than anything in the world that my family wasn't mine. Hatred toward my grandfather begins to take root as I continue to hold Delilah. I will get revenge for what's been done to her. I lift Delilah's body off the ground, holding her in my arms as I begin to walk out of the room. My family will pay for this. I don't care if it costs me my life in the process. They will answer for what they've done.
The way out is blocked by the man who'd been smoking on the couch. "I have been fucking talking to—"
"Move out of my way," I cut him off. I'm in no mood to speak to one of the people who had hurt Delilah.
"Where is my money?" He crosses his arms over his chest, continuing to block the door.
"I said, move out of my way." My patience is slowly thinning as the man refuses to step aside. I want to smash his head against the wall, but I'm trying to keep it together so I can get Delilah to the hospital as quickly as possible.
"And I said, where the fuck is my money?" He shoves a finger into my shoulder with every word, and I stumble backward a bit from the force.
I glare at him, but he doesn't get the memo that I'm warning him to back off and gets in my face instead.
"Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?" The man says, so close to me that his forehead is almost touching mine.
He doesn't see the head-butt coming.
"What the fuck!" He lifts a hand to touch his bloody nose.
Ignoring him, I try to step around to get to the door but get stopped again, which earns the man another head-butt. Gritting my teeth, I adjust Delilah in my arms and tighten my hold on her as I try to control my anger. This man is asking for his death, and I'm so close to laying Delilah on the ground and giving him the same treatment he gave her.
"I can't believe you'd attack me because of this stupid bitch," the thug says, wiping his bloody nose.
As the words leave his mouth, all my self-control evaporates. My vision blurs, and I don't even know when I gently place Delilah on the floor and tackle the thug to the ground. A beast I didn't realize lived in me comes alive. I punch, giving him a black eye. The next punch to his face cracks his jaw in two, and he spits out a few teeth. I don't hold back my anger and throw punch after punch, breaking his ribs next. My knuckles ache, but I don't care. The rage and pain in my heart are greater than any physical pain I could feel right now.
I see red.
This monster almost killed Delilah and my unborn baby. I don't care if I fucking lose my hand. I want to break every bone in his body.
He screams in pain, begging me to stop, but it only fuels my rage.
My knuckles are bloody and bruised, but that doesn't make me want to stop either. I continue punching. I don't give him a chance to fight back. Besides, the thug is too high to have quick reflexes right now anyway. He wouldn't stand a chance regardless.
I take out all my anger on him. Grabbing his head, I begin to bang it against the floor, screaming in frustration. The man's warm blood coats my skin and blinds my vision. I can't stop. Tears fill my eyes as I imagine how Delilah must have screamed and begged them to spare our baby.
I throw my head back, yelling, tears streaming down my face.
My baby is gone. My little angel never got a chance to see the world. All because of this man and my evil family, the words echo in my head.
I freeze when I feel the touch of cold metal on the back of my head and hear the click of a gun's safety coming off.
Slowly, I rise with my hands up in surrender. I turn around to face the person holding a gun to my head, and just after one look, I know he must also be responsible for Delilah's condition. His presence here is enough to tell me that.
"I am going to fucking kill you!" The second thug roars, pointing his gun at me. The man on the floor cries out in pain, making the one holding the weapon shift his attention and giving me the upper hand. I move quickly, getting the gun out of his hand and shooting him in the heart. He cries out before dropping to the ground. I don't waste another second and run to where I placed Delilah. Picking her up, I run out of the building with her in my arms. I put her in the back seat of the car and head to the nearest hospital.
I drive the fastest I have ever driven in my life. A part of me had worried that she might be dead until she moaned as I placed her in the car. I have never felt more joy in my life than when I heard that sound escape her lips. I just pray I didn't put her life in more danger by wasting time taking care of the men who did this to her.
DELILAH
My eyes flutter open, but I quickly shut them as the light in the room blinds me. Slowly, I open them again and take in my surroundings. My eyes widen once I realize where I am. I turn to my left, hearing the beep of a heart monitor. The lines zig zag across the screen, which means I'm alive. Oh my God, I'm alive and in the hospital. How? I try to cover my mouth in shock, but that doesn't work because my hand is stuck. I look to my right and find it under Beau's cheek.
Tears fill my eyes. I can't believe he's here. I didn't think I would ever see him again. I'm about to lift my other hand to stroke his hair when I feel a sudden pain in my abdomen. Moving my hand to my stomach, I gently caress it. The tears flow down my face as I realize how empty it feels. I don't need a doctor to tell me to know that there's no life inside of me anymore. The amount of blood that flowed down my legs as those men beat me was enough to tell me the fate of my child. My beautiful baby never got to see this world. I sob, my heart bleeding as the guilt for failing to protect my baby fills me.
I am sorry, loved one. Mommy wasn't able to save you. I am so very sorry you had to go the way you did.
"Delilah." Beau's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I turn to face him with red eyes and a tear-stained face. Our gazes lock momentarily before his eyes move to my left hand, which is still resting on my belly. He doesn't say a word but quickly gets up and wraps me in his arms. I bury my face in his chest and cry as the loss of my child—no, our child—overwhelms me. Beau's arms tighten as big wails escape me. I don't even care that crying this much makes my head hurt like hell, I continue to mourn the loss of our baby. Beau sniffs as he holds me tightly. He must be feeling the same pain I am right now.
"I'm sorry. I am truly sorry, Delilah." Beau gently strokes my hair. He doesn't stop apologizing until my sobs quiet.
I pull away from his chest, and stare at him with bloodshot eyes. "Who is responsible?" I have a guess of who it might be, but I want to be sure.
"I promise you I'll make them pay."
He's avoiding the question. "Who, Beau? Who?" I want to know who murdered my child. Those thugs might have beaten me, but someone asked them to do it.
Beau rubs a palm across his face and stares at me. He doesn't want to confirm my suspicions, but he should know how important it is for me to know who is responsible for my kidnapping. Someone needs to pay for my suffering and my baby's.
"Was it your mother or your grandfather?" They're the only two people who could do something so awful.
Beau releases a deep sigh before speaking, "My grandfather."
I nod. "Thank you for telling me."
"Delilah, please let me handle it. I promise, I'll get revenge."
"As much as I want to believe that, I can't. He is your grandfather; you can't hurt him."
"I can."
"You can't."
"I fucking can," he repeats. "So let me deal with it, please." Beau raises his voice as he speaks.
He looks stressed. I am sure the death of our child must also be taking a toll on him. I can see in his eyes that he means it. I hope whatever he does to his grandfather, he makes him feel even worse than I do now. I hope he makes him suffer. It seems important to Beau to be able to do this. For me. For our baby. "Fine," I say, giving in. "I'll let you handle it."
Beau sighs in relief. "Thank you."
It won't bring our baby back. We both know that. But maybe it will help to fill the giant hole their loss has left behind.