Chapter 22
Lily
M y blanket was pulled all the way up to my neck. It was bright as day with all the lights on in both my bedroom and the master bathroom. The bed was cold and too big. But I'd rather share a bed with my memories than with them. Eric was gung-ho about going to Florida, as if tonight had just been a blip...a slight misunderstanding. I couldn't help the crawling sensation beneath my skin. If he treated such a serious matter as something so trivial, would he be capable of walking around after a murder, as if nothing happened?
I didn't want to think he was capable of such callousness, but could I not? Ryan had almost shattered a glass pitcher in my face. I couldn't be sure whether or not he missed on purpose, and Eric was all like, "You'll love Florida. The sunshine will fix everything!" As if I could think about anything else but the strong similarity my heart bore to the shattered glass, or the flashbacks. And missing Ryan, despite myself.
Eric was either naive as hell, sick in the head, or he had no heart. There was no way it could be the third option, and I was hoping to hell it wasn't the second option. There was enough mental illness to last us a lifetime in this relationship between me and Ryan.
If he was capable of...a shiver ran through my body...murder, I didn't think he would have done it because he had no heart.
I wanted answers and I didn't want answers, because if I got the answers, I wasn't going to be able to live with it. Especially if I found out that they did it out of love.
Could someone kill out of love?
I didn't want anyone to kill for me in the name of love. Unless it was self-defense. Would it have been self-defense? What kind of self-defense would have Terry and the other asshole's body floating in the bottom of a lake?
What was I doing? I was just freaked out from tonight.
Just because Ryan had almost cracked my skull open with a glass pitcher, it didn't make him a murderer. It did make him aggressive though, and violent. The others too. I was glad Eric, Matt, and Ethan had stepped in to help me, but the absolute murder in their eyes.
I shuddered.
I guess if anyone threatened any of them, I would have had murder in my eyes too. I wouldn't act on it, but I'd want to. A memory from when I was a teenager flashed through my mind. I stood over my father's drunk body. He was snoring and laid out in the dingy recliner chair. He had demanded that mom cook dinner. When she refused, he started hitting her. The last thing I wanted to do was feed him, I'd relish the vision of him starving to death. But I did it for my mother. He kept shouting at me from the living room about how long I was taking and how I couldn't do anything right. I was already angry from the way he hit mom. And I was blazing by that point.
Throughout preparing the meal, I considered how easy it would be to put rat poison on his plate. And when I brought the finished food to him and he was snoring, I wondered what it would feel like if he wasn't around anymore and if I was the one to make that happen.
I didn't act on it, but I wanted to. I'd dream about waking up to the news of him dying, lie awake in bed, thinking of ways I could carry it out. Hugging my pillow, I shook the memories from my head. There was a reason why I didn't act on it. It would make me like him or worse. And I could never be worse than him. It was disgusting enough that his DNA lived on inside me. Yet another one of the reasons I wouldn't have children. They didn't deserve all of these fucked up genes.
I understood anger. I didn't understand what I could have done to deserve Ryan's anger, though. My cheeks warmed from my tears.
And I didn't understand acting on that anger in a way that harmed others. In my relationship with Marco, that was always self-defense. What had I done to deserve Ryan's rage?
"Lily." A voice called out to me.
It was familiar, but I couldn't place it. My head was foggy. I needed rest.
"Lily!" It called out again, louder this time.
Grumbling, I rolled over onto my side. My scream was muffled by the Cheshire cat grin next to me. Just a mouth that pulsed its big ugly white teeth against stretched out thin lips. It laughed louder as I failed to speak or scream, despite how hard I made the effort. In a flash, it zoomed out and disappeared before Terry's accomplice took its place. I tried to run but I couldn't move.
He was propped up on his elbows, lying on his side and staring at me. "Missed me?" he asked.
Something gave, and my body moved.
I rolled over to the other side and smacked into Terry. "Aw. Did you think you got rid of me?"
I jumped awake in a pool of sweat, still unable to scream as my tongue became too heavy inside my mouth. But there was no sight of the two nightmares. My body shook and my thoughts went crazy.
It was so real, I wondered if they were really here. I'd never been scared of monsters hiding under my bed, but now I was frozen in the middle of the bed, afraid that if I swung my legs over, each of them would grab one and pull me under. The closet door was ajar. Had I left it like that? Disoriented, I freaked myself out into thinking that I saw a pair of eyes looking back at me.
I grabbed my phone without thinking, and Matt's contact popped up first from when I'd called him to let him know that my mother was leaving. Then I remembered that he was by the guest house with Ryan. And all the memories of the reason why I was sleeping on my own in the first place came rushing back.
I grabbed my pillow closer and sobbed into it.