Play with Fire

Chapter 12

The cool air rushed into Delilah's face, rustling and blowing her penny-colored hair back. The sun peeked through challenging clouds above. The sounds of Gotham could be heard everywhere. Delilah's eyes were set on a small child and her older brother across the park.

The child climbed onto the bike, the brother behind her helping to keep the bike straight.

Delilah noted this was the child's fourth attempt of riding her bike on her own. It was one of her own favorite memories of her and her oldest brother.

They had spent the entire day at the park. Her father had left that morning, saying something about a job and how we shouldn't expect him to be back till nightfall. Delilah and her brothers took advantage of that and decided to have a siblings day. Her oldest brother told Delilah they could do whatever she wanted. Delilah had already decided she wanted to spend the day at the park with a picnic lunch, an ice cream and to ride her new bike. Her brother had brought it for her only a week before. Actually, she remembered, it was her birthday present. That year was the first year it was her and her brothers. And it was like that for a long time, up until she graduated highschool.

The day after she graduated, the morning after her graduation party with her brothers, that was the day of the accident, the day her entire world changed.

Delilah watched the young child skip over to the ice cream van, money in hand. Her smile was interrupted by a beeping. She looked down at her watch, well not her watch, her brother's watch that she'd managed to salvage. "Is it that time already?" she groaned. She looked over at her fingers. She had to cut her nails shorter, to match the broken ones. She expected to be surprised at her injury, but due to recent events, nothing surprised her anymore.

She picked up her bag, flung it over her shoulder and began to walk back to the bus stop. As she crossed the road, her phone rang. She dug into her bag and brought it out. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" She hit the deny button and shoved it back into her bag.

"I'm not going to stop."

Delilah froze at the sound of a voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder, then turned her body around when she saw Rhys behind her.

"Leave me the hell alone!" she shouted, hating the way her voice faltered a little.

"Come on, Delilah. I just want to talk to you," he said in a pleading, easy-going tone.

"I don't. So you can fuck off!" This time her voice was a deadly venomous tone. The darkest one she could muster.

"Is everything okay, miss?"

Delilah looked to her right to see Jim Gordon standing next to her in full uniform.

"I'm just talking to my girl." Rhys smiled. "Been trying to find her for years now."

"I said leave me alone!"

"Sir, I think you should leave for now," said Jim.

Rhys took a step towards her. Delilah smelt alcohol on his breath, and it was so strong it almost caused her to gag. This didn't surprise her.

"You ran away," he slurred. "Bad girls run away. Are you a bad girl, Delilah?"

"Sir, please keep your distance."

Rhys ignored the cop's words and continued to move towards her. "You know what happens to bad girls, don't you?"

Delilah ignored the cop's words too. Feeling a sudden burn of anger, she balled her hand into a fist and delivered the hardest, swifted right hook she'd ever managed. When Rhys tripped backward in pain, Delilah stepped back too, trying to distance herself from both of the figures.