Dear Enemy

“Instead I was left thinking my sister was someone I could trust.”

My throat clogs, and I clear it. “I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you.”

She laughs bitterly. “And I thought I was protecting Mama and Sam. You called me a martyr for it.”

Shit. “I was wrong. Stupid.”

Her lips twist in a sad smirk. “You always got so pissed when I tried to defend Sam. You said she wasn’t worth it. Now I know why.”

My fingers curl into the comforter by her hip. “You weren’t wrong to try.”

Delilah blows a raspberry and then tilts her head back to blink up at the ceiling. Tears trail down her cheeks. “I was a fool. And you know it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with trying to help the people you love. That’s what I know now.”

It’s all but a confession, but Delilah doesn’t seem to hear it. She’s scowling at the door. “I hit her.”

“Pretty soundly,” I agree. Is it wrong that I silently cheered her? Probably. But I couldn’t help feeling proud of her for standing up to Sam.

“I want to hit her again.”

She sounds so fierce I have to smile. As if she can’t contain her fury, she rises and starts to pace.

“And when she called me . . . not only did she convince me to keep quiet, she infected our relationship again, feeding me doubts, telling me that you were just manipulating me, that you’d always hated me.”

Alarm bells begin to clang. I find myself standing too. “What do you mean when she called you?”

Delilah halts and pales, her eyes going wide. For the first time in our lives, she actually looks guilty. She licks her lips quickly. “She called me.”

“When?” My ears are beginning to ring. I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but it isn’t good.

Her gaze slides away, and she grips the bottom of her shirt. “Before the letters.”

Icy-hot prickles explode over my skin as though she slapped me. “All this time we’ve been together, you’ve been in contact with Sam?”

My damn heart hurts. I thought we were a unit when it came to the wrongness of what Sam did. And she kept this from me?

Delilah puffs out a breath but then rallies. “It was one phone call.”

“One call is enough.” I run a shaking hand through my hair and grip the ends. “Jesus. Here I am feeling like a heel because I didn’t tell you about Sam’s prank. And you talked to her while you were with me? I don’t like being lied to either.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s a thin whisper. Because she knows she’s in the wrong.

“Why?” I snap. “Why would you keep this from me? After all she’d done?”

“Sam begged me not to—”

“Yeah, I just bet she did.” I take a hard step toward her but stop, unable to close the distance. “Did it occur to you that I’d want to know she’d called?”

“It did . . .” She bites her lip. “She said she wouldn’t come back if I told you. So I held my tongue. I’m sorry, Macon.”

The fact that she’s not fighting me ticks me off. I want that spark, a better explanation. I want to be told I’m getting this all wrong, that she didn’t put Sam before me. She’s known since the letters. A thought hits me, and I rock back on my heels. My skin feels cold as I force the words out.

“When I found you in the kitchen . . .” I swallow thickly, anger rising. “And you tried to pull away from us because you couldn’t get past how I’d treated you when we were kids . . .” She winces, not meeting my eyes. “It was because of Sam, wasn’t it? What did you say just now? That she made you think I was manipulating you?”

Her eyes squeeze shut for a second. When she opens them, they are overbright and pained. “Yes. It was because of Sam. She played on my insecurities.”

I nod, quick and hard. “Right. And instead of talking to me about it and telling me what really happened, you tried to pull away.”

It hurts. In ways I wasn’t prepared for. I can handle Delilah not telling me about Sam if she thought it would get the brat to return. But this? I rub a hand over my chest.

Her lower lip trembles, but she presses them together before answering. “I’m not perfect. Some things are so ingrained it’s hard to break free of them. When Sam said—”

“Sam,” I sneer. “Always fucking Sam. She shits all over you, and you still let her lead you around. When are you going to learn?”

Delilah’s eyes flash. “You just told me it wasn’t wrong to try helping the people you love.”

“That’s when I thought you were talking about protecting your mother. Not this . . . bullshit. What about me, Delilah? I laid myself open, showed you every dark corner I had. I trusted you with all of me.” With my damn heart. “And you didn’t trust me enough to tell the truth about why you had doubts.”