Play with Fire

Chapter 8

Caspian placed the tube of extracted blood into a bag. "Imagine if I was squeamish towards blood." Delilah scoffed. "I don't think this would be the right job for you if you were. Takes someone with a strong stomach," she replied, washing her hands. Caspian nodded. "You got that right."

Delilah dried her hands and opened the door to escort her friend out. As soon as the door was shut behind him she stormed over to Jerome. She slammed a hand down either side of his head and glared down at him. "How the fuck do you know about... you-know-who?" she spat. "And you called me Lilith in my dream yesterday, what does that even mean? And "trust me"? What the hell? Am I supposed to trust-"

The corners of Jerome's mouth moved a little.

Delilah held his chin firmly, making sure her longish nails didn't poke into his skin and watched closely.

The sides turned upwards ever so slightly.

"You can...you can move your mouth?" She looked down at his pale body. "Can you move anything else?"

He didn't move.

The sound of her ringtone came from her pocket. She moved away from Jerome and grabbed her phone from her pocket.

Rhys.

She pressed deny and shoved the phone back in her pocket. She looked at Jerome. "What are you up to?"

Before Delilah sat a man tied to a chair.

Her ex.

Delilah flinched when she felt something on her head.

"You know, Lilith, we gotta stop meeting like this." Jerome moved in front of her, still creepily running a hand through her copper-colored hair. He held it up to his own hair. "You're sure we're not related?" She tilted away from him, pulling her hair out of his grasp. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Jerome simply shrugged.

"What is this?" she motioned towards her ex. Jerome gave her a confused look then looked over to the guy. "Oh! I thought we could have a little reunion!" he skipped over to Rhys and stood over him. "Rhys told me he wanted to talk to you," he turned his head to face her, his usual smile on his face, "He's been trying to call you y'know?"

Delilah crossed her arms. "One, I don't want to talk to him. Two, how the hell do you know about him?"

"You're not the only one who has dreams," he chuckled. "As you have been learning about me, I can't help but learn a little about you, and oh my! This little girl has some secrets."

Delilah scoffed. "Not really."

Jerome looked offended for a second, quickly reverting back to his manic grin. "I know you have no parents. I know you lived with your brothers till this idiot came around and murdered them."

Delilah cut him off. "Look, my job is to look after you. Once you're up and walking again, I wash my hands of you."

"You mean, we're not friends?" he put on a playful pout.

"There's no room for friends in this job."

"Oh, come on, Lilith. The lone hero act isn't cool or anything," he said as his face dropped.

"I don't care. And stop calling me that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get a decent night's sleep."

"Okay, okay! Forget about Mr. Rhys here!" he turned to her ex. "Excuse me, sir!" he took hold of the back of the chair and pulled it backward. When he brought it back up the chair was empty. "Ta-da!"

Delilah heard the sound of a crowd clapping. She looked around but saw no one.

Jerome bowed. "Thank you! Thank you! I shall be here all week!"

"So you're into tricks as well as jokes."

Jerome took a few steps towards her. "I'm an entertainer, Lilith, it's my thing."

"You still haven't answered my question, Valeska."

Jerome looked taken aback but took it in stride. "Oh, feisty! Talk to me like that again and I will be sure to open my eyes!"

Delilah rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay okay! You're the boss!" he ran behind the chair. "Please, take a seat."

Delilah unfolded her arms and sat down.

Jerome cleared his throat and brought his mouth to her ear, but then stopped. "Wait, you asked me two questions."

Delilah sighed. "Lilith?" Jerome nodded in recognition. "'Lil' from Lilah, as you'd like to be called, and 'ith' from Smith. What do you think?"

She shrugged. "It's alright I guess. Next question?"

Jerome straightened up again. "I need your help."

Delilah snapped her head towards him.

Jerome fell back onto the floor and clutched his heart. "Dear God, that hurt to say! My ego!"

Delilah couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his subpar acting.

Jerome lifted his head up. "You look a lot better when you smile."

"I can see why the staff at Arkham let you escape now. You're a pain."

Jerome sat up. "A pain," he pointed to his stitched neck, "in the neck?"

Delilah tried to keep a stern face but failed when she saw Jerome smile.

"See! I can be fun! But let's be serious for a while...eugh..." He smacked his lips a few times. "That wasn't fun to say."

Delilah joined him on the floor.

Jerome crossed his legs and sat up straight, smiling.

"So, you were saying you need my help?" Delilah reminded him when he didn't start talking.

"You see, the doctors here are not all...hmm... how do I say this...?" He placed a finger on his chin, thinking of the word.

"Nice?" Delilah offered.

He shook his head.

"Thoughtful?" She tried again.

Another shake.

"Honest?"

He clicked his fingers in recognition of the word and pointed at her. "That's that one!"

"Well, of course, they're not! What, you expected them all to be saints?" Delilah asked incredulously.

"I don't care what they do with their experiments. But when it comes to me," he placed a hand on his chest, "I like to have a choice."

"And what exactly are they going to do with you?"

Jerome opened his mouth to speak but paused. "Looks like we have run out of time."

"What?"

"Same time tomorrow?" He pushed his face closer to hers. "Wake up!