Tainted Love

Michael Sanders tapped his hands against the steering wheel. After twelve years he was finally going to see his little girl. His Delilah; his beautiful little flower. He loved Her from the moment She was born. As She got older, it became more than love. He was in love with his daughter. He was captivated by Her. Her shiny black hair, Her piercing eyes, Her friendly, child-like demeanor. He loved Her, he wanted Her. He wanted to be with Her. He never knew how to tell his wife that he did not longer love her, but instead loved their child. She would never understand. He had found countless women who somehow reminded him of his daughter and slept with them, imagining Delilah. It wasn’t the same, and he knew it. Then he had finally taken his chance. His wife had left to go socialize with her “friends” and left him alone with Delilah. He went for it, he took his chance. He had his daughter in the sand. Then later in the house. More then once. He had her again and again in different rooms and in different ways. And it had completed him. He was so happy. His little Delilah had cried, though. Michael couldn’t understand why. Didn’t She love him? Why did She cry? Surely he didn’t know. Then his wife had come home and kicked him out. Scarlet said she was tired of him cheating on her, tired of being in a loveless marriage. So he left. He left his Delilah, and it had torn him apart to do so. However, now he would have Her again. He would finally set his eyes on his beautiful girl all grown up. He couldn’t wait.

All night he had driven to get to where he was now: parked in front of the house owned by Scarlet and her new husband, David. He cleared his throat and looked at himself in the rearview mirror. His once burnt-blond hair was speckled through with gray and it was clear how the twelve years had aged his face. He was no longer the young thirty-six year old he had been. Even for forty-eight he appeared much older then he was. She wouldn’t care though. His Delilah wouldn’t care. She loved him, he knew it. She would love him no matter what his appearance was. Michael took a deep breath and got out of the car. He tugged down the jacket of his dark-gray suit and smoothed it out. Only the best for Her. He walked to the trunk of his car and opened it, pulling out a bouquet of flowers. He slammed down the lid of the trunk and looked towards the house. In a matter of moments he would be face to face with Her. He walked up the driveway with a slight spring in his step, the excitement of seeing Her crashing down upon him. Finally, he stood in front of the door, twelve years of fantasies and dreams flying through his mind. It took all of his strength to knock on the door, but he managed. Moments later a man answered the door and Michael’s face fell. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. The man looked stunned.
“I’m David, and this is my house. Who are you?” The door closed slightly so only David’s head was in full view.
“I’m Michael. Michael Sanders.” There was a crash from right inside the door, and then it swung open. Scarlet was there, her head was bald, and she was gripping an oxygen tank and leaning on David for support. She looked disastrous. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.
“What are you doing here.” she asked fiercely, “How did you find us?” Her voice was raspy and it was obvious she did not have the strength to be standing, let alone, yelling as she did. Michael stared at her, not knowing what to say. He hadn’t ruled in Scarlet being there when he came to get Delilah. Hadn’t She read the letter? Why didn’t She get her mother out of the house? Why, why, why?
“Scarlet...what happened to you?” Was all he managed to get out. He had never seen his ex-wife look so terrible.
“I have cancer, Michael. Now tell me, why are you here?” Her voice grew louder and more demanding. David laced an arm around her waist to keep her from falling.
“I’m here to see Delilah.” He said, matter-of-factly. Scarlet hesitated. She bit her lip. She told him Delilah wasn’t home, and she didn’t know when she would be. Michael didn’t believe her.
“I know She wouldn’t leave. She knew I was coming!” He yelled. Scarlet stopped in her tracks. She knew? She thought, Impossible. The two stared at each other, saying nothing.. “She wouldn’t leave.” He threw the bouquet of flowers onto the concrete step and shoved past the door, sending Scarlet falling to the ground. She wasn’t his concern. His only concern was Delilah. His Delilah. He ran through the house, screaming her name. He could hear David calling 911 from downstairs. The bastard, he thought. “Delilah!” he screamed again. “Delilah!” He spotted a door at the end of the hall, the last room in the house. It had to be Hers. He threw the door open, expecting to see Her waiting for him. But, She wasn’t. She was not there. She wasn’t in the house at all. Scarlet was right, she had left. She was gone. Tears blurred his vision slightly and he raced back down the stairs. The ambulance had not arrived yet. David was performing CPR on Scarlet. Michael raced out the door and got in his car and sped off, wiping tears from his eyes.

Sitting in his car, hours later, Michael gripped the steering wheel. Did She runaway? Was it because of him? He did not know; he wanted to. He wanted to know where She was, he wanted to see Her. Needed to see Her. She made him so happy, and these last twelve years without Her had killed him. He was frustrated, he was upset. “Delilah.” He moaned. Michael smashed his head on the steering wheel repeatedly, groaning in pain with each blow. When he stopped, there was a deep gash on his forehead, bleeding profusely, saturating his shirt and jacket with ruby blood. Catching a glance of himself in the rearview mirror, he started screaming. He thrashed his body around and started pounding his fists on the driver’s side window. It started to spider-web, and his knuckles began bleeding, smearing red onto the glass. Hot tears mixed with blood and ran down his face, staining his suit even more. He continued punching the glass until his hand went right through, causing an inhuman shriek to escape his lips. Someone in the parking lot let out a cry. A chorus of “Call 911!” echoed through his skull, making the wound on his head hurt even worse. Slowly, slowly, reality started to fade away. The car door was opened from the outside and he slumped to the side, hitting the ground. A pretty girl with shiny black hair and a blue EMT jacket bent over him. Her green eyes flecked through with gold. “Delilah?” Michael choked out. All he could see was Her. Oh, she was so beautiful. He closed his eyes, trying to make the pain go away. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but it was not Delilah’s voice that came out.
“No, sir, my name is Amanda. We’re going to put you in the ambulance now, okay? Don’t worry. You‘re going to be fine, we just need to get you to the hospital.” Her voice was soothing, and when he opened his eyes again, it was not his Delilah standing over him. It was a young woman with short brown hair, but she had green eyes, almost like Delilah’s, but not quite. This girl‘s eyes had no gold. In reality, this girl, Amanda, and Delilah bared no resemblance. No one would have rightly mistaken one for the other. But Michael was a man obsessed, he could find a little of Delilah in almost anyone, and this girl had something almost like Her most dominant feature. Her eyes. And he wanted Her. As he drifted off into a morphine induced sleep he imagined tying up the girl called Amanda and using her in ways even he couldn’t fully put together. Though he was slipping in and out of consciousness, a wry smile played at his lips. He couldn’t wait to wake up.

Delilah and Braden sat in silence as she drove. He didn’t want to say anything and upset her. Her temper was short, and he didn’t want to cause a meaningless fight. He’d never seen her this angry, this upset, and it scared him. He wanted to ask her if she was alright, but he couldn’t. Braden felt a vibration at his feet and bent down to pick up Delilah’s cell phone. “Del…it’s David.” With a sigh, she pulled the car over and put it in park and took the phone from his hands.
“Hello?” She heard David sobbing on the other end. “Dad…daddy, what happened?”
“Delilah? Oh, Delilah, it’s your mom, well, she’s not okay. She’s not doing well.”
“What happened?” she asked, nearly choking on the sob she was fighting.
“Your father, he, he came here looking for you, and he knocked her down to get into the house. She had a heart attack, Del. And she hit her head pretty hard. She‘s in a coma, Del. You have to come home. Delilah, baby, you have to come here now. You need to come back,” Del hung up before he could say anymore. She dropped her phone and let out the cries she was suppressing. She started to shake, started to scream. Braden tried to grab her wrists and calm her down but she lashed at him, hitting him over and over again until he started crying with her.
“Del, please tell me what’s wrong.” He said, cupping her face in his hands. She looked at him, her eyes dark and empty, her face pale.
“He was at my house, Bray. He was there, and he hurt my mom. He hurt her. She’s in the hospital, Braden. And now he‘s looking for me. He hurt my mom…” she broke down in his arms, sobbing for the life she couldn’t have anymore, for the one person she never wanted to let down.

Lights flashed above his eyes, slowly waking him from his state of deep sleep. He felt sharp pain in his right hand and forehead. The light burned his eyes, making him cringe. “Wha…what’s g-going on?” he mumbled. There was complete silence, save for the beeping of a machine. No one answered him. “What’s…Going…ON!” he shouted. His heart monitor spiked and a myriad of beeping sounds filled the air, slicing through his skull. Several nurses rushed in the room, an older woman coming to his side.
“Sir, sir, what’s wrong?” she questioned worriedly. Another nurse checked his pulse and another checked his heart monitor.
“What’s going on?” he asked again, more calmly this time. The nurse sighed.
“Is that all? The bones in your hand have been fractured, and you have a mild concussion. Self inflicted. You’re in the hospital.” she answered briskly. Michael closed his eyes. Nothing life threatening. He could still seduce the EMT with no problem. He smirked.
“When will I be able to go home?” he asked as innocently as possible. The elderly nurse reached her ashen hand out and grabbed his chart from the end of the bed and looked it over.
“I should think very soon, you’ve been here for several hours and seem fine. I’ll have to consult with the doctor, though, before I can give you a formal answer.” Michael nodded and thanked her with a smile on his face. Twenty minutes later he was leaning on the wall outside the building as Amanda walked out of the hospital.
“Miss! Miss!” he called. She turned around, her short hair falling slightly of its messy ponytail. She grinned and retraced her steps back to him.
“Hi! I can see you’re feeling better. How is your hand?” She said. Michael shrugged casually, acting like it hadn’t phased him.
“I was having a minor breakdown. I am better now, though. Thank you, for you help, Amanda, was it?” The girl nodded and he continued, “I was wondering if I could take you out to lunch to thank you. I know that might sound odd, but I was very distraught earlier and you were very kind.” For just a moment Amy looked hesitant, but she welcomed his invitation with a smile.
“I’d like that, Michael.” She replied. He opened his mouth to speak but she got there first, “I read your chart.” He nodded.
“I’m afraid I don’t have my car. It’s back at the parking center.” He had only just realized this. He hoped this wouldn’t effect his plans any.
“Oh, it’s fine, mine is right over here.” She pointed to a smart, black, compact car towards the right. “I’ll take you back to your car after this, I took the liberty of locking it up before we left. I suppose they gave you your keys?” He confirmed this and they left, her with a happy attitude, him with sickening thoughts and a terrifying smile, neither of which she could see.