To the Ends of the Earth (Stripped 5)

&n

bsp; They didn’t take care of me, though. They hurt me. And I’ve found little pockets of community all along the way, shining like diamonds in the gutter.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice thick.

She steps aside. “I’ll miss that little angel, besides.”

The little angel doesn’t stir even when the cold night air touches her cheek. I say goodbye to Mrs. Lawson not with a word, but with a long look that tells a thousand warnings—the kind that women who’ve known violent men can share.

Luca’s face looks worse under the flickering lamplight, more wild. He gazes down at Delilah’s sleeping face with an expression I can’t read. “We’ll stay the night,” he says. “Our flight leaves in the morning.”

I don’t know whether Delilah’s sleeping face gives us the reprieve, but I take it. Keeping her warm inside my apartment is hard enough. Out here it’s below freezing.

“Thank you.” I cross the small walkway quickly, slipping into my apartment with practiced ease. Luca follows behind, glancing around before locking us in.

Her little bedroll is still laid out in the one bedroom of the apartment, where she usually sleeps. She curls up against the pink and purple stars on the pillow, arms immediately wrapping around her stuffed unicorn. In some ways she’d had to live like me—in a bare room, with only a thin comforter as her mattress. In other ways her life is completely different, filled with color, with wonder. With love.

I turn to leave her and almost run into Luca.

“Dark hair,” he says, but he’s not looking at Delilah.

He’s looking at my long blonde locks.

Delilah’s curls crown her face, a beautiful raven color that I’ve never seen before. Leader Allen had already grayed by the time I knew him. I like to think it’s hers alone, that she didn’t even have a father. That’s what my brother believes. That it was a virgin birth, the baby given to me by God. Only despite what I’d rather believe, I know the truth.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “She’s beautiful.”

He nods. “Did you love him?”

I feared Leader Allen. I despised him. In a sick way maybe there was love too, in the form of necessity. The way you love air, unthinking, because you need it to live. I didn’t fight him when he taught me the divine worship he wanted. Because I had no choice? Or because I was brainwashed? It doesn’t matter. “I don’t regret what happened. It gave me her.”

He leaves the room, and I follow, shutting the door carefully so we don’t disturb her. I’m already schooling my mind to accept whatever happens next. Whatever form of payment Luca desires. It’s not so very different from Leader Allen. I need Luca to survive just as much.

In the luggage I find the white plastic box with FIRST AID written on it. “Let me take care of those cuts for you.”

He gives me a strange look. “They don’t hurt.”

That seems impossible, but then maybe a man as tough as him doesn’t feel pain like regular people. “It’ll get infected.”

After a hesitation he nods. I find a swab of alcohol and tear it from the packet. He stiffens when I approach, and I freeze. It’s like walking up to a dog who’s already bitten, who’ll do it again. But he doesn’t resist when I step close.

My hand reaches up to his neck.

He lowers his head.

The alcohol must sting against the open wounds, but I’m the one who sucks in a breath. Remembered pain. His blood drenches the little square cloth quickly. I work through two more packets before I’m done. He must bleed every time he fights.

“Who does this for you at home? When you fight in the ring?”

His voice has gone low and rough. “No one.”

This close I can feel his breaths against my temple, his heat warming my front. The apartment isn’t that much warmer than out there, especially outside the bedroom, but he feels like a furnace. When I turn away, my breast brushes against his arm. Embarrassment heats my cheeks as I find some antibacterial cream.

He stood still for the sting of the alcohol, but he pulls back from the soothing cream. It surprises me more than him when I give him a stern look. “Hold still.”

His lip curls up in amusement. “Yes, ma’am.”

I use a cotton swab to dab the cream on his cuts. “Thank you.”