Page 51 of Twisted Lies

“I’ll get it while you figure out your next move,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows at him and taking a sip of my wine before I answer the door. Swinging open the door, I lose the breath in my lungs as I find a man standing at the doorstep holding his side, blood gushing between his fingers. His head is bent down as his body leans to the side of the door. My eyes are glued to the blood, and I try to gain control. I can’t stop looking at his blood-covered hand. I try to force words out of my mouth, but nothing but air comes out. My mind races with pictures of the past.

Closing my eyes, I try to block out both past and present. Forcing the words from my mouth, I yell, “Elijah. Come now.” I get the words out and move back into the house with my eyes tightly closed. I wait for the sounds of footsteps that quicken once he takes in the scene. He hisses. Moving to the side, I lean into the wall, keeping my eyes closed till I hear them walk past. I try to control my breathing, but the more I try, the more I panic. My legs crumble beneath me and I slide to the ground. I know I should help Elijah, but I’m too busy trying to get a hold of myself. Putting my head between my legs, I let my mind race, knowing it’s the only option.

With my eyes closed, my family figures form in the blackness. They start out alive and well but soon enough become what they always do. Lifeless and in pain. The whimper escapes. I can make out commotion in the background, but can’t make out words, or who’s taking what action. I let my mind go. The more I fight it, the rougher it will be. After what feels like years, I feel a hand rest on my knee.

“Lily. He’s going to be okay. You need to talk to me,” Elijah commands. I move my body in hope he takes it as a refusal, but it’s Elijah, and he doesn’t. “Lily, you need to look at me. Now,” he commands in such a way that my head lifts of its own accord. I’m sure my eyes are glossy and far away. He rests his forehead against my own, and I match my breathing with his, trying to calm myself down. “I won’t let anything happen to you. No one can touch you now. You need to trust that.”

“You…don’t understand…you can’t make a promise like that.” I feel as if they’re in the room with me, ready to finish the job. I’ve felt the noose around my neck so long I don’t know how to live with it.

“I can. Lily, I can. No one will touch you again. I’ll have their heads above the fireplace before they get close. You need to talk to me, though.”

“I can’t.” The words escape, and I feel my eyes grow wider.

“One day, you won’t have a choice,” he states, and I feel the truth of his words.

“I know, but not today,” I whisper, hoping he’ll understand and leave it alone for now.

“I need to take care of business. Now’s a good time for you to find your room,” he says, leaning away.

I feel a pang of sadness we’re not sharing a room, but then I kick myself. I don’t want to share a room with him. This is only a deal for a short time, then I’ll be back on my own. I need to remember that. Taking a breath, he stands and holds out his hand. Clasping his hand in mine, he helps me stand. Sliding past him, I quickly find my room and try to find a dreamless sleep.

* * *

ELIJAH

After slipping into Lily’s room to make sure she’s asleep, I return to Andre in the kitchen.

“Who did this?” I ask once more to check the wound. It will scar, but he’ll live.

“Your damn sister,” he hisses.

“Rebecca did this?” I ask, still shocked my innocent sister that used to call me in her room to check for monsters in her closet could do this. I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact she shot me.

“No, your other sister,” he snaps. “I know that’s the more likely sibling, but yes, Rebecca. Out of nowhere, she just appeared in front of me and pulled the damn trigger. The only thing I can say is she was close enough that if she wanted me dead, I would be in the ground.”

“I guess that’s something,” I mutter.

“I guess unless you consider both of these a sign. She’s made her appearances clear both times. She’s coming after the crown.”

“Not Rebecca,” I state, stepping away at the thought.

“Maybe the old Rebecca, but this one…she wants to make a point. Watch your back. She’s not the same as she was. Whatever she’s been through has hardened her. It’s made her more like us than we want to believe.”

“I don’t know if I can do what will need to be done.”

“I don’t think she’ll let you,” Andre says, laughing and wincing at the same time. “You’ll need to find her again first.”

“You’ll stay here till we figure out the next move,” I state.

“No. I need to get going. I don’t stay in one place for long. How else am I to stay alive? I came here only because I had to. The longer I stay, the worse it will get. Your sister is a different soul than she once was. She’s one of us. Be careful.”

“You’re going to find her,” I state. They have too much of a complicated history for him not to.

He doesn’t answer and instead, just stares at me till I look away. Andre’s maybe the only person alive who could beat me in a staring contest. It must have something to do with all the death he’s seen and dealt. Staring into his eyes is like looking into the eyes of the grim reaper himself. He stands as if he had not just been shot a little while earlier. He leaves.

I rub my forehead in a futile attempt to rid myself of my headache. My mind races with the thought of my once dead sister. If she wanted either of us dead, we would be, which begs the question: what the hell game is she playing at? She’s playing a cat and mouse game, and I hope she knows what she’s doing. I pray she’s only doing it with us because, with anyone else, they would genuinely kill her without a thought. I fear that’s where I’ll have to be. If I can just get close enough to talk to her and not have her shoot me, I feel I could get through to her. Or at least part of her. I’m terrified there is no old Rebecca left. That the woman who stood in front of me not too long ago and pulled the trigger is a shell of who my sister was. I know if that’s the case, I’ll have no other choice than to pull the trigger. If that happens, I’ll wonder what kind of person I am. I wonder what my father would say. Would he say I should let her kill me in order for her to live, or that I have to do what I have to do?

I try to block out all the horrible things that have been inflicted on her the last few years to make her this person, but the thought still circles. She may have been better off dead. Claire and I left her. We left her thinking she was gone, but still, we left her. We would have to pay for that decision at some point. Whether that was at Rebecca’s hands or not is up to fate. I regret very few things in my life because I’ve done what needed to be done at the end of the day. Leaving Rebecca will always be my biggest regret. If I were to reach the pearly gates, I know they’d take one look at me and say nope. Rebecca will be the reason, and I’m okay with this.

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