“So wh-wh-what’s the deal with Liz and you?” Tanner said, plopping down on the bar stool beside me, slurring his words. He’d been drinking more than most, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed that he’d spent most of the night staring at Elizabeth.
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, man, everyone in town can tell you two have something going on. I can’t blame you, though. Liz has one of the best set of tits I’ve ever seen.”
“Knock it off,” I said, growing annoyed with drunken Tanner. He had a way of getting under my skin, and ever since I’d found out that he’d had a thing for Elizabeth, I couldn’t stand him that much more.
“I’m just saying…” He smiled, shoving me in the shoulder before he reached into his pocket, pulled out a quarter, and started flipping it between his fingers. “Back in college, Steven and I flipped a coin for her. I called heads, he called tails. I won, but the asshole went after her anyway. I guess she was too good in bed for him to pass up.”
My eyes moved over to Elizabeth, who was wrapped up in a conversation with women I knew she hated. When she glanced my way, we exchanged the same ‘save me’ facial expressions.
“Don’t talk about Lizzie like that,” I said. “I know you’re drunk, dude, but don’t talk about her like that.”
Tanner rolled his eyes. “Take it easy. We’re just having some good manly talk.”
I didn’t reply.
“So did you? Have you slept with her?”
“Fuck off, Tanner,” I said, my fingers slowly forming fists.
“You sonofabitch, you screwed her, didn’t you?” He shook his head. “Realistically, though, how do you see this unfolding, Tristan? Let’s be honest. She’s having a fun getaway with you, but a woman wouldn’t want to stay with someone like you. One day, she won’t be sad anymore. One day, she’ll be the same Liz she used to, and she won’t need the asshole neighbor to lose herself. She’ll find someone better.”
“Let me guess…someone like you?”
He shrugged. “It’s an option. Besides, I know her. We have a history together. Plus, she’s too good for you. I mean, I have my own auto shop. I have a way to provide for her. But you? You work for Crazy Henson.”
“Say one more word about Mr. Henson and you’ll regret it.”
He held his hands up in defeat. “Easy, slugger. That vein in your neck is popping out. You wouldn’t want Liz to see that temper of yours, now would you? Like I said, she’s too good for you.”
I tried to ignore his words, but they were finding a way inside my head.
What was I thinking?
She’s too good for me.
Tanner slammed his hands against my shoulders, rotated me around on the stool to face the dance floor, and pointed toward Elizabeth laughing with Faye. “What do you say? What if we do show her your temper? I think it’s only right that she sees the true monster inside of you. You shouldn’t be anywhere near Liz or Emma. You’re a fucking beast.”
“This is where I walk away,” I said, pushing myself up from the stool.
“Hell, you probably should stay away from all people actually. Didn’t you have a wife and a child? What happened to them?”
“Don’t, Tanner,” I warned, my hands forming fist.
“What happened? Did you hurt them? Are you the reason they’re dead? Shit. I bet you are.” He laughed. “Are they buried in a ditch somewhere? Did you fucking murder your family? You’re a psychopath and I don’t see why no one else can see it. Especially Liz. She’s normally smart.”
I huffed and turned to face him. “It must kill you that she’s with me.”
He was taken aback by my words. “What?”
“You stare at her as if she’s your world and she looks past you every time. I mean, it’s actually funny.” I laughed. “Because here you are pretty much throwing yourself at her, fixing her cars, showing up to have dinner with her, pretty much begging her to look your way, and she just doesn’t see you, dude. And not only does she not see you, she chooses me, the town recluse, the one person you can’t stand. It must be eating at you inside,” I mocked. I was being mean, and cold, but he’d brought my family into it. He’d made it personal. “It must be killing you to know it’s my bed she’s crawling into, and it’s my name she’s moaning.”
“Fuck you,” he said with narrow eyes.
“Trust me,” I replied with a wolfish grin. “She is.”
“Do you not know who I am?” he said, pounding his finger against my chest. “Dude. I get what I want. I always get what I want. So enjoy the time you have with Liz, because I’m getting her. And enjoy your time with Mr. Henson’s shop, because I’m taking that, too.” He patted me on the back. “Nice talking to you, psycho. Make sure to tell your wife and son I said hi.” He paused and laughed. “Oh wait, never mind.”
Everything in my head started to spin. Without hesitation I swung around and slammed my fist into Tanner’s jaw. He stumbled backward. I shook my head a few times. No. I felt Tanner’s fist meet my eye before he sent me to the ground and started slamming his fists into me over and over again. I could hear everyone around us screaming, and I thought I saw Faye trying to pull Tanner off me, but I flipped him over and slammed him against the ground.
He wanted this. He wanted the beast to be unleashed, and he said all the right things to bring the beast to life. He had brought Jamie and Charlie into it. He’d gone too far, and had taken me to the darkness. I slammed my fist into his face. I slammed my fist into his stomach. Over and over again. I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. Everyone was screaming around me, but I couldn’t hear them anymore.
I fucking snapped.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Elizabeth
“Oh my God!” I screamed. My eyes fell to Tristan as he stood over Tanner, slamming his fists into his face over and over again. His eyes were hard, his stare as cold as Tanner’s, and he kept swinging. “Tristan,” I said, walking over to him. Tanner was almost passed out, but Tristan wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. “Tristan,” I said louder, reaching for his arm as it flew up in the air. The speed his arm was swinging at made me stumble backward and when he saw me, he stopped. His chest was rising and falling, and I could see the anger in his eyes. I slowly approached him and placed my hands around his face. “It’s over,” I said. “It’s over.” Come back to me.
I watched his breathing slow as he climbed off Tanner, and he stared at his bloody hands. “Shit,” he exhaled, crawling away from Tanner.
Tristan stood up, and as I reached for his hold, he yanked his body away from mine. His eyes were wild, untamed, and I could see how far away from me he was.
What did Tanner do to you?
When I turned to Tanner, I felt awful for even thinking that it was somehow his fault. Tristan had almost knocked him out, and my gut was tangled up with guilt and confusion. Tristan stormed off, not turning around once to look back at me.
“Jesus,” Tanner muttered. Faye rushed over to him to help him up. “I’m fine,” he said, standing.
“What did you…” My voice shook. “What did you say to him?”
Faye’s brow furrowed. “Liz. Seriously?”
“I just…he wouldn’t just snap like that. He wouldn’t just attack you. Tanner, what did you say to him?”
He huffed sarcastically and spit out blood. “Un-fucking-believable. I can hardly open my right eye and you are asking me what I said to him?”
My throat was tight, tears burning at the back of my throat. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just, he’s not one to just snap like that.”
“Didn’t he push you down a hill, Liz?” Faye frowned.
“It was an accident. I tripped. He would never hurt me.” How could she even think something like that? Tristan had been there for her when she needed him! How could she turn on him so fast? Everyone stood around us, fear in their eyes. All of the ladies from the book club were whispering about Tristan, calling him a monster. Everyone was judging me for loving such a beast.
&n
bsp; “Yeah. I’m sure this was an accident too,” Tanner said, gesturing toward his bruised face. “He’s a monster and he’s dangerous, Liz. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps on you too—or worse, on Emma. I’m going to show you, Liz. I’m going to find out the truth about that guy and show you his secrets. Then maybe you’ll trust me.”
I sighed. “I have to go.”
“Go? Go where?” Tanner asked.
To find him.
To see what happened.
To make sure he’s okay.
“I just have to go.”
Chapter Thirty
Tristan
April 6th, 2014
Two Days Until Goodbye
“You haven’t eaten in days. Please, Tristan. Just take a few bites of a sandwich,” Mom begged, sitting across from me. The sound of her voice annoyed me more and more each day. She slid the plate in front of me and asked me to eat again.
“Not hungry,” I replied, pushing the sandwich back toward her.
She nodded once. “Your father and I are worried about you, Tris. You’re not talking to us. You’re not letting us in. You can’t just keep all your emotions bottled up like this. You have to talk to us. Let me know what you’re thinking.”
“You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”
“I do.”
“Trust me, you don’t.”
“No. I do, honey.” She reached out, placing her hand over mine, almost to comfort me.
I didn’t want her comfort.
I wanted her to leave me alone.
“Okay. Well, if you can’t talk to us, at least talk to some of your friends. They’ve been calling and stopping by every day, and you haven’t spoken one word to them.”
“I got nothing to say to anyone.” Standing from the table, I turned to walk away, but paused when I heard Mom cry.
“It’s breaking my heart to see you like this. Please, just say whatever’s on your mind.”
“What’s on my mind?” I turned to her, my brows knit, my stomach knotted, my mind clouded. “What’s on my mind is the fact that you were behind the fucking wheel. What’s on my mind is the fact that you fucking walked away with a broken arm. What’s on my mind is that my family is fucking dead and you were the one driving the car—you were… YOU KILLED THEM! You did this! You’re the reason they are dead! You murdered my family!” My throat tightened, my fists formed, and I stopped talking.
Mom cried more and more, her howls becoming louder and louder. Dad rushed into the room and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her some sort of peace of mind. I stared at her, feeling the distance between us. I felt the beast inside me growing more and more each passing moment. As I studied her tears, it should’ve sickened me that I didn’t feel pity for her. It should’ve worried my soul that I didn’t feel the need to comfort her.
I merely hated her.
Because of her, they were gone.
Because of her, I was gone.
I was becoming a monster inside, and monsters didn’t comfort people. Monsters destroyed everything that crossed their path.
When I stepped into the shed, I slammed the door, locking it from the inside. “Shit!” I shouted, staring into the darkened space, staring at the scarred walls and bookshelves. The memories were rushing over me, choking my mind, suffocating my heart. I couldn’t take anymore.
I sent one of the bookshelves flying to the other side of the room, my heart beating at a speed I was certain would cause an attack. I leaned against the closest wall and closed my eyes, trying to take back the control of my breaths and my heart that had somehow been stolen from me.
There was a knock at the door.
I wouldn’t answer it.
I couldn’t.
I could’ve killed him. I could’ve killed him. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
I knew Elizabeth would try to pull me back to her, pull me into the light. She would try to save me from myself. I couldn’t be saved.
She kept tapping lightly, and my footsteps moved toward the sound of her knocks. My hands ran across each other before I stood in front of the door, placing my hands flat against it.
I assumed that her hands were resting on the other side of the door, her fingertips mirroring mine.
“Tris.” She softly spoke eight words that made my chest tighten. “Every second. Every minute. Every hour. Every day.”
I held my breath. Her words seemed more honest than ever before. She kept speaking, her voice filled with urgency. “Please open the door, Tristan. Please let me back in. Come back to me.”
My hands fell from the door, and I rubbed my fingers against one another over and over again. “I could’ve killed him.”
“You wouldn’t have,” she said.
“Go away, Elizabeth,” I said. “Please, just leave me alone.”
“Please.” She begged for me to open the door. “I’m not leaving until I see you. I’m not leaving until you let me hold you.”
“Jesus!” I shouted, ripping the door wide open. “Go away.” My soul was wrung with a sudden, wild homesickness as I stared into her eyes. My stare faltered off toward the ground, unable to look at the one thing that made heaven almost seem real in my mind. “And then stay gone, Elizabeth.” I would just hurt you. You deserve more than me.
“You…you don’t mean that,” she said, her voice cracking. I couldn’t look at her anymore.
“I do,” I said. “You can’t save me.” I closed the door and locked the shed once more. She pounded against it, screaming my name, begging for an explanation, begging for answers to all the unknown questions, but I stopped listening.
I stared at my hands, seeing the blood, unsure if it was Tanner’s or my own, feeling it against my fingers, under my nails, everywhere. It was as if the walls were bleeding, and I couldn’t see a way out.
I wanted him to know I was sorry. I wanted him to know I shouldn’t have snapped. I wanted it all to be a dream. I wanted to wake up and have my family back. I wanted to wake up and never know how much hearts could truly break.
But mostly, I wanted to let Elizabeth know that I loved her. Every second. Every minute. Every hour. Every day.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
When I found the strength to leave the shed many hours later, I opened the door to find a shivering Elizabeth on the ground, wrapped in her winter coat. “You should’ve gone home,” I said, my voice low.
She shrugged.
I bent down and lifted her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around me and clung to my body.
“What did he say to you?” she whispered against my chest.
“It doesn’t matter.”
She held me tighter as I carried her into her house. “It does matter. It matters a lot.”
I placed her in bed and turned to leave her room. She asked me to stay with her, but I knew I couldn’t. My mind wasn’t in a good place. Before I left her house, I stopped in her bathroom to clean the blood from my hands. As the water ran hot, I scrubbed my hands together aggressively, trying to get all the blood off. I couldn’t stop. I kept scrubbing, adding more soap, even after all of the blood was gone.
“Tristan,” Elizabeth said, breaking me from the trance I was in. She turned off the faucet, took a towel, and wrapped my fingers in the cloth. “What did he say to you?”
I leaned forward, placing my forehead against hers. I breathed in her scent, trying my best to not fall apart. She was the only thing still holding me together. “He said I killed them. He said it was my fault that Jamie and Charlie were dead, and he said I would end up doing the same to you.” My voice cracked. “He was right. I killed them. I should’ve been there…I should’ve been able to save them.”
“No,” she said in a commanding tone. “Tristan. You didn’t. What happened, whatever happened to Jamie and Charlie was an accident. It wasn’t your fault.”
I nodded. “It was. It was my fault. I blamed my mom, but she…she loved them. It wasn’t her. It was me. It’s always been me…” Each w
ord was harder to get out than the one before it. Breathing was becoming a chore. “I have to go.” I stepped away from her, but she blocked the exit. “Elizabeth, move.”
“No.”
“Lizzie—”
“When I fell apart, when I hit rock bottom, you held me. When I lost it, you stayed. So take my hand and come to bed.”
She led me to her bedroom, and for the first time, she unmade the right side of her bed for me to get under the sheets. I wrapped my arms around her as her head lay against my chest. “I ruined your birthday,” I said softly as sleep grew heavy on my eyelids.
“It’s not your fault,” she replied. Over and over again, she said those words. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.” As my heartbeats slowed to a normal pace, as my fingers caressed her skin, as I began to fall asleep, a part of me started to believe her.
For a few hours that night, I remembered what it felt like to not be alone. For a few hours, I stopped blaming myself.
Chapter Thirty-One
Elizabeth
I tiptoed to the kitchen around six in the morning, leaving Tristan resting. The whole house was silent, but I could smell the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the rooms.
“You’re a morning person too?” Mike asked, smiling my way with a mug of coffee in his hand. He seemed like such a friendly guy, and just seeing his smiling face made me feel awful for how I’d treated him and Mama the night before.
He pulled out another mug and poured a cup of coffee for me. “Sugar? Cream?”
“Black,” I replied, taking the mug from him.
“Ah, something we have in common. I like to say your mom drinks her sugar and cream with a dash of coffee, but for me the darker the better.” He sat down on the stool at the island and I sat beside him.
“I owe you an apology, Mike. Yesterday was terrible.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes life is weird. You just have to deal with the weirdness and hope that you find some weirdos who will move forward with you.”
The Air He Breathes Page 18