Page 99 of Four Times Forever

Eric

Out of my depth here, I stood next to a seething Lily, red against the orange-yellow lights, face tight and eyes fixed ahead of her. Her fists were folded next to her hips. I had no clue how to fix this. All I knew was she couldn't leave me if I was next to her. I'd follow her everywhere. She'd have to get me arrested for stalking to get rid of me. Although, it might not have to get that far. She could have us arrested right now for murder.

"I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to hit me." That was my stupid attempt to break the silence.

She pressed her lips together, hard, and shut her eyes. Her chest swelled and fell.

"I'd deserve it," I continued.

Lily let out an audible sigh and released her fists. "I'm sorry about the busted lip," she mumbled.

"No, as I said, I deserved it." My heart leapt as I attempted to keep her talking.

"Stop saying that. That's how my dad and Marco justified what they did. I'm not them. Damn it! Why did you all have to fuck things up? Wake up that side in me. I thought I had it buried. I'm not them!" She turned around and balled up her fists again, aimed at me, but let them fall.

Lily was shaking when I took the opportunity to wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into my chest. "No, you're not them. You're nothing like your father, Lily."

"Yes, I am!" she screamed, pulling away from me.

I held her tighter, but the elevator came to a stop to let in an older couple. We both looked at them. That's what I wanted us to be one day. Gray hair, wrinkles, smushed bodies, but still together until death.

"Please. We can still have a future together. Don't let Terry ruin this too," I whispered.

"Terry isn't ruining this! You are! All of you! This is about what..." She caught herself as one half of the older couple cleared her throat before whispering something to her husband, who also turned to judge us.

"Let me go," Lily gritted her teeth.

I dropped my arms. The last thing I wanted was for them to call the cops on us and for Lily to spill everything. How was I supposed to fix our relationship from prison? If I went away now, that was it. There'd be no more us. Ever. She was my everything, and I'd have lost her, without a doubt.

When the elevator finally got to the parking lot floor, she rushed out. The old couple behind us also wandered out. Great.

"Lily," I whispered, hurrying after her and trying to grab hold of her hand. "We have to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about." She headed toward the rental car. "You murdered my..."

"Cat!" I yelled and she whipped around. I whipped around as well. The old couple was staring at us, mouths agape.

"I didn't mean to. It was an accident," I forced a smile and explained to them for no reason.

Lily's footsteps departed from my side and I swallowed hard at the old couple's scrutiny. Turning to each other, they muttered something in French and I ran through the few Parisian laws I knew to determine whether or not I could be imprisoned for 'murdering a cat'.

"It really was an accident," I insisted as the wife looked me up and down with her pointy nose and her husband cleared his throat. But they left. And I hadn't seen them take out a phone. Still I added, "It happened in America." Just in case. I didn't think I could be charged for murdering an American cat. I would never do that. A rat on the other hand? For sure. And Terry Thornbread and his sidekick were exactly that. Poisonous, deadly little rats.

Lily swore behind me and when I turned, I found her with her back against the rental car and her arms crossed over her chest. I walked up beside her.

"Do you have the fucking keys?" she ground out, eyes dead ahead.

I patted my pockets and not having them was like letting her down all over again. "I'm sorry."

"Great." She rolled her eyes. "I'll go get them."

"I don't regret it, you know," I confessed to her back.

Her slippered feet dragged to a stop. She was pale as a ghost when she turned back around to look at me. Fuck, I didn't want her to look at me like that.

"I regret getting involved in the action itself. I regret hurting you. I regret losing you. But I'm not the least bit sorry that those pieces of shit are dead. I know you're not either. I saw it that day you found out..." I said.

"And what? Did you feel proud of yourself? Watching me breathe a sigh of relief, knowing you were a part of the reason?" She grabbed her face as if it was going to drop to the ground if she didn't hold it up. "Did it make you feel powerful?"

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