Blood Rush

Chapter Nine: Daddy's Help

"Ugh." Deedee groaned, rolling Lila's heavy body off her. "You make good work of her, Jerome. That's a lot of blood from a person." She rose to her feet. There was a very strong void along her t-shirt and sweatpants where Lila's body had shielded the blood spatter. However, the rest of her was painted red—face, arms, hands. She wiped her fingers on the grass, attempting to clean herself off. Jerome's face, streaked with red as well, beamed. He wiped his mouth with a long sleeve, observing their handiwork.

"Bitch really put up a fight," said Jerome.

"We can't walk out in public like this…"

"Oh, Delilah…"

Jerome and Deedee whipped around to see Mr. Cicero standing behind them. Jerome quietly thumbed the hatchet hesitantly; Deedee motioned for him to hold off. Mr. Cicero was blind, but he most certainly wasn't deaf. What did he hear? How much had he learned? Deedee's voice shook slightly, hoping to sound convincing; though it wasn't too hard to do. Deedee didn't want the Circus to find out what they had done to Lila…So some of it was real.

"Dad…" Deedee said. "Dad…What are you doing here?"

"Delilah, what have you done?" Mr. Cicero breathed, stepping forward.

"Stop, stop." Deedee held a hand out.

"Mr. Cicero, I did it," Jerome said calmly.

Deedee stared at him pointedly. It's the truth, yeah, but Mr. Cicero would have a genuine reason to help out Delilah Valeska. Jerome…? She didn't understand how Mr. Cicero's reasoning if he helped him.After all, it was a known fact that Mr. Cicero fathered Deedee; he'd feel inclined to help his estranged daughter, perhaps out of a last hurrah to start a relationship that was doomed from the start. Deedee reached a bloody hand toward Jerome when he stepped forward, trying to stop him; however, Jerome pulled her fingers off his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to," said Jerome in a very convincing voice of remorse. Even his facial expressions were on point. Deedee watched him carefully; though, in her heart, if it came down to it, she'd have struck down Mr. Cicero the instant it didn't seem like he was convinced. "Mr. Cicero, I'm sorry, I—"

Mr. Cicero's face softened. Deedee collected the gag from Lila's mouth, stuffing it into the pocket of sweats.

"It's okay…" Mr. Cicero patted Jerome's shoulder tenderly. "It's all right. It's a mistake, an understandable mistake."

A beat.

"You should know," whispered Mr. Cicero, "that your secrets are safe with me…"

Deedee narrowed her eyes, "Excuse me? Just this one secret, Dad…"

"No, Delilah," said Mr. Cicero quietly. "I know at least two." A flicker of disgust on his face, though Deedee didn't understand why his nose scrunched up so severely, "I know that the two of you have been in a sexual relationship. Incestuous. Love…No matter where it comes from, why it came, for whom it is…It can make people do crazy things…"

For some reason, Deedee thought that he was speaking about himself at first. Mr. Cicero's love for her…? As a parent, he wasn't so involved, hardly at all. Practically none except for small encouragement about her stage performance, a small word outside of the trailer after Jerome's ass was handed to him by his mother. Maybe Mr. Cicero had his own way of showing that he cared…?

"You're awfully accepting of this discovery, Dad," said Deedee slowly.

Jerome glanced at her.

"I'm not a person to judge," said Mr. Cicero, "especially with the environment you've grown up in, Delilah. While I don't understand the nature of how it came to be; I do hear the contrition in Jerome's voice. You two must have done it out of a last resort."

"You're going to help us cover it up," Jerome resolved.

"I will," said Mr. Cicero, "but there are things that you must do. I do not want to learn that you two were separated due to such a tragic accident." He turned to Jerome. "You may come to my trailer, get cleaned up. I'm assuming the murder weapon is still with you…?"

"Yes," said Jerome.

"Then you should mark up that weapon with Satanic etchings—If the police find it, they will think it's a satanic ritual. The suspicion will subside from the two of you—"

Deedee objected, coming to stand in front of her brother defensively, "Why would you assume that the police would think that either of us did it? We sat in Lila's wretched squalor for years. We're her loyal children—"

Mr. Cicero offered her a sarcastic smile, "Delilah, my dear, you could convince the policemen of that fabrication; but the Circus has heard you and Lila argue for years. Glass breaking, bodies slamming so hard, I can hear your trailer rocking. And when they learn of your relationship with your younger brother—"

Deedee's face hardened, "You'd tell them off-hand what we—?!"

Jerome stopped her with a hand, "Deedee, I understand you're a bit emotional—" He grit his teeth on the word, indicating to her that she should shut up— "but Mr. Cicero knows exactly what to do about this; we should trust him."

"You trust Jerome," said Mr. Cicero calmly, turning in the direction from where Deedee's voice spoke. "Jerome trusts me. So, you should trust your deadbeat father…"

Jerome nodded. "Deedee, one way or another, everyone will find out eventually."

Deedee glowered at Mr. Cicero, "You're insensitive."

"Yes," said Mr. Cicero.

"And you've never seemed fond of Jerome nor I."

"Yes," he agreed.

"But you're willing to help us cover up our mother's homicide."

"Yes," he said again, nodding.

"That doesn't make sense," Deedee spat—

"Honey." Jerome snapped, pulling her by the arm away from the blind, old fool. "You're being paranoid. Just let the man help."

Jerome side-stepped Lila's corpse and pulled Deedee aside. His face, ever so serious, leaned in inches of hers. Jerome's voice lulled, "Deedee, I know that you're distrusting, but he'll be useful. I don't know why he wants to cover for us, but if he wants to take the fall for Mother's death, just fucking let him."

"I don't trust him, Jerome," she cautioned.

"Of course, you don't. He's a man," said Jerome. "But do this for me, will ya?"

Deedee frowned.

"Just go along with it," Jerome insisted. He pinched the dip of her pointed chin between his forefinger and thumb thoughtfully, his eyes settled on her lips for a second, and he offered her a deal. "I'll make it up to you later, yeah?"

Well, now…Deedee cocked her head to the side. She side-glanced Mr. Cicero. Deedee placed her lips on the shell of Jerome's ear,

"Does that mean exactly what I think it means?"

Jerome smirked.

Deedee didn't necessarily need a verbal answer. Coated in Lila's blood, that half-smile tugging at the corner of Jerome's lips—Sold.

Deedee nodded and then approached Mr. Cicero, slapping her arms against her thighs in resignation, "Okay, fine, Dad. Just tell us what to do…"