Elizabeth rocked forward, the palm of her hand pounding her forehead as if she could make the memories, and her feelings of vulnerability and fear stop. She mentally begged her mind for silence so she could sort out logically what had happened and what she needed to do.
She needed to stop the madness before she became just a shell of herself, like before.
Elizabeth attempted to force her thoughts elsewhere, anywhere else, besides Roger’s face, his wet lips and cold hands … ‘I can’t stop the feeling of his hands all over me, making me feel small and helpless.’ She thought in a panic. She could feel herself slipping back into the nightmare.
Then suddenly, a feeling of calm enveloped her, comforting her, as she, instead, saw the face of the gypsy from her first night in New Orleans, with her blind eyes and ancient looks. Her face so clear to her, she felt as though she could reach out and touch her. The vision of the gypsy overtook the replay of terror for a moment. The gypsy’s voice replaced Roger’s sadistic laughter echoing constantly in her mind. Her voice rough callused from the years, as she reminded Elizabeth to choose a path to follow. To not let him steal the life that she was destined to live. To fight for her future and not let him win.
“What if I’m not strong enough?” Elizabeth asked quietly, hesitantly. As if the gypsy stood within the room, guiding her path to salvation.
‘Only you can find the strength you need.’ She answered, her face wise and ancient.
‘What if I can’t find the strength?’
‘Then all that will be, cannot be.’ Sorrow dripping from her words.
‘What does that mean?’ Elizabeth’s mind screamed. Feeling the gypsy slipping away, leaving as quickly as she had appeared.
A sense of lost consumed her as she jumped up from the bed, to turn around, searching for the gypsy within the shadows of the room, “What does that mean? What does that mean?” Desperate for the answers that still burned within; knowing only she knew the answer. The answers were within her just as the gypsy had told her in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Her life had been so different then. Before…all that she knew was now only an illusion of smoke and mirrors.
Elizabeth stopped only when she turned to see Leo standing hesitantly just inside the room; his face full of pain and uncertainty. Elizabeth walked over to him, knowing she must have looked like a person gone mad, stopping within a breath of him. Not saying anything, she fell forward so she could lay her cheek across the broad expanse of his chest, her hands reached around his waist as she listened to his heart. The sound of the strong beat filled her with calm and reassurance. His voice vibrating against her as he spoke, “I drew a bath for you.” He said as his hands rubbed her back, softly.
“Good,” Elizabeth said as she pulled back to take his calloused hands into hers. Happy that he didn’t ask what she had been doing, talking to an empty room as she spun wildly, yelling at the empty shadowy corners and not sure that if he had asked, what she would have said. The truth was even hard for her to understand and believe. She just knew on a level deep within, that the gypsy had stood before her, reminding her to fight the madness and evil that came with it. If that made her mad, then she was indeed mad. But it had been a moment of clarity for her, too hard to explain.
She led Leo silently into the bathroom where he had lit several candles around the raised tub. Bubbles rose over the top of the white porcelain, for all purposes appearing surprisingly normal and romantic. Elizabeth looked up into Leo’s face, she smiled at his kindness and understanding, “It looks lovely.” The distraction took away the screaming that still wanted to seep back into her head.
Leo’s green eyes reflected sadness as they skimmed her, “I’ll give you some privacy. Just let me know if I can do anything for you.”
Desperation filled her with his words, not wanting him to leave, his very presence in the room larger than the memories in her mind. He helped her feel secure within herself. “No. Don’t go,” she said as she grabbed his hand, stopping him short. Her voice dropping to a whisper as her eyes pleaded with him. “I need you. I need…you to replace the stench of him on me.” She reached up on her toes to kiss his warm lips softly, hesitantly. “Join me. Just hold me for a while. I need to feel your strength next to me, filling me.”
Leo’s hands were gentle as they touched her face. He nodded in understanding as he took her hand, leading her to the tub. Tears stung Elizabeth eyes, with his gentleness as he removed her torn and soiled blouse; his hand shaking ever so slightly with the movement. Elizabeth dug her fingers within his dark hair, as she watched him lean forward to kiss her softly on her bare shoulder, her breath catching at the tenderness of the action. She closed her eyes while he removed the remainder of her clothes, his movements erasing a little of what had happened to her earlier, replacing the bad with the good.
Her eyes opened once more as he swept her up into his arms, his eyes looking into hers as she reached over to rub a thumb against the roughness of his face where a dark five o’clock shadow had grown. The dark growth made him appear more masculine and rough, the combination sexy and appealing. Her breath came out in a cry of surprise as he let her legs fall into the soothing warmth of the water, the rest of her body quickly followed, as she rested her back against the smooth high back of the tub.
Elizabeth watched Leo closely as his hand reached into the bubbles surrounding her, her breath caught within her throat when he brushed her leg; an unexpected wave of pleasure ran through her. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation. Then she found herself disappointed when it came back out of the water with a large tan natural sponge.
Surprised, after all that had happened tonight, that she would react so sexually to him. Her hand reached forward to catch his hand, “Leo, stop. Please join me.” Her eyes pleaded with him as she fought to catch his elusive eyes.
His voice gentle when he finally looked down into her eyes, “I want to give you time.”
“I don’t want time. I want to stop the memories for just a few hours.” She leaned forward to bring his hand with the sponge to her cheek, “You make me feel good and right. He made me feel weak and unclean. I don’t like that feeling. I want to feel the way you make me feel. I want to feel whole again. So please, darling.” She said with a smile, with reassurance, “I promise. I won’t break.”
Leo smiled sadly as he nodded his head Elizabeth saw his fear of hurting her further and grateful for his understanding. His voice unsure “Let me know....”
“I will,” Elizabeth said, stopping him before he could continue, knowing what he was going to say without it being said. Feeling her own uncertainty as she leaned over to tug at his shirt., she was determined for him not to see her fear. She needed to erase the feel of Roger’s hands on her.
Elizabeth’s breath caught when he turned back to her after removing the last of his clothing, the candlelight dancing off his bronze skin. Her eyes skimmed his body, strong and defined. Thoughts of Roger slipped dangerously back into her mind, a nervous tick quickly followed, as a sense of helplessness consumed her, the memory attempting to squeeze through to this time and place. She fought the memory with all she knew as she reached out her hand, her eyes lifting back up to Leo’s green ones, letting them push back the memory and thinking of how his eye color changed with the emotions he was feeling, now-a soft green.
Chapter 39
Elizabeth woke in a start as she fought the heavy hand across her mouth, her breath harsh as she attempted to breathe, her fingers clawing at the offensive flesh as she bucked her body in panic. Her eyes opened wide in fear, not registering Leo’s face for a moment as he put a finger to his lips his eyes begged for her to stay calm. His voice just below a whisper as he spoke close to her ear, “I’ll let my hand up if you promise not to scream?”
Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement; he lifted his hand slowly from her, her hand reached out to hit him on the chest in anger. Her voice a whisper as she follow
ed his lead. “You scared the shit out of me.” She said with a glare, then lifted herself onto her elbows as she asked softly, “What’s going on?”
Leo, not answering at first, as his eyes watched the door leading into the hall. His body silent as it moved across the bed. Pulling jeans over his hips, he reached into the nightstand. A pistol appeared, the metal glistened in the moonlight as he lifted it up. His hands steady, moving with familiarity on the gun as he quickly opened the clip to check it. He then placed it behind him into the back of his jeans as he leaned back across the bed, his voice low. “There is someone in the house. So I want you to go and lock yourself in the bathroom. I have a gun hidden under the vanity. If you rub your hand along the bottom, you should feel a slight notch. Tug at the notch and it should open the compartment. Don’t open the bathroom door unless you hear me knock. I’ll knock three times on the door, sharp twice, and once soft. Don’t open it under any other circumstance, for any other reason. Do you understand?”
Elizabeth felt a sense of deja vu, with a memory of her mother shoving her into the hutch between the kitchen and dining room. Her voice had also been low and desperate as she begged her to stay quiet and not to open up the doors under any circumstances. The room spun slightly around her as her mind went numb at the memory of what happened to her mother rushed back.
Elizabeth nodded absently when she looked back up, knowing whom it was in the house, afraid what happened before would happen again. An understanding came over her that she must face the monster once more. She knew this moment would come; she just didn’t know it would be so soon. She told Leo she understood what he wanted of her, yet not elaborating more, knowing she could not just sit and hide this time. She was aware she was being deceitful, but had no time to argue her point. She reached down onto the floor to grab his tee shirt to throw it on, the material soft, his scent comforting as it wove up when the shirt settled around her. Elizabeth let Leo lead her to the bath, his hand firm as he shoved her gently into the door.
Elizabeth formulated in her mind what needed to be done, surprised at the strength of what she felt settle over her, fueling her. She watched him turn back to the door leading to the hallway; she could sense his alertness to what was just beyond the darkened door. She knew that Roger had no idea who he was dealing with. Leo’s body was tense and agile like a cougar about to pounce on its prey.
Elizabeth shut the door of the bathroom, the tile cool on her feet when she walked softly to the vanity before kneeling on the hard floor, her fingers shaking as she skimmed the bottom of it. She needed to skim the bottom a couple of times before she finally felt the small notch. Quickly, she opened it as Leo had directed, reaching for the gun, the weight strangely familiar in her hand as she pulled it out. She swallowed back her fear as she mimicked Leo’s actions from earlier. Elizabeth released the safety as she pulled back the clip; thanking her mother silently for the lessons she had given her on firearms.
She opened the door of the bathroom quietly, to peak out, determined to help Leo against Roger. Her hand reached up for the key and charm still around her neck. The very things Roger would be looking for if he had read her mother’s letter, her steps silent on the soft rug as she rushed to the door, leading into the hall.
She looked beyond the opening into the loft overlooking the downstairs. She moved quickly into the shadows, her heart beating loudly in her head. She took several deep breaths trying to calm down so she could be more keenly alert. She kept to the shadows as she moved along the wall.
When she came to the catwalk, she hunched down on all fours. The aisle was narrow and more exposed to the lower floor. She crawled painfully slow to the clear floor, which she had discovered the first time she was here and hoping Roger didn’t know about it, giving her the advantage. Elizabeth cringed when the gun in her hand scraped against the floor, the sound loud to her ears. She fell flat on the cool floor as she cursed under her breath, praying that Roger didn’t hear the noise. Her breath was shallow as she listened for noise, her heart hammering hard once more against her breast, her eyes darting along the shadows looking for movement. After several minutes of silence, she swam forward, this time being more conscious of the gun and holding it up from the floor.
Pausing when she came to the clear floor which overlooked the kitchen, her breath barely escaped as she looked down into the darkened kitchen. Her breath caught when she saw Roger hunched behind the counter, holding a gun in his hands. She swore under her breath as she ducked back, trying to decide how to proceed. Her eyes swept around her as she looked for the best way of getting over the floor to the opening at the end of the catwalk, which overlooked the island in the kitchen. She slowly moved forward once more to look through the floor again. Roger now knelt by the counter; his back turned from the ceiling as he looked at something across the room.
Elizabeth stood to press her back against the far wall, knowing it was her opportunity to move across the clear opening without being seen. She felt slightly light headed from the act of moving across the clear expanse as her eyes focused on Roger’s movements below, praying that he wouldn’t, for one reason or another, look up, discovering her. Releasing her breath when she got to the other end, he crouched down once more as she took the last few steps to the little sitting area, the books on amnesia still sitting on the table.
Elizabeth crawled over the plush leather chair, to the opening on the other side. Her back was against the wall, as she had seen cops do on television as they stalked their criminals. Her hand shook slightly as she attempted to calm her breath, her heart racing like a racehorse. Her hands shook as she lifted up the gun-it felt surprisingly heavier than before as she held it with both her hands. Praying that she remembered what she was taught when the time came, she angled her head toward the opening, as she inched forward slowly, taking in a deep breaths as she turned quickly into the opening. Her eyes went to the counter she had seen Roger hunched behind.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him pointing his gun across the room. She felt as if the seconds slowed to milliseconds as her eyes swung too where he was focused, his gun aimed at Leo who stood in the shadows, his body sweeping the room slowly. His gun was held in both hands as he moved forward. Panic filled her as her words of warning froze on her tongue. Then her mind registered the feel of the gun in her own hand and a sense of disorientation filled her as she looked at the shiny metal. Bile rose in her throat, terrified as she raised up onto her tiptoes, to lift the gun through the opening.
Her voice strangely calm as she finally found her voice, “I wouldn’t do that, asshole, if I were you.” In an attempt to distract him away from Leo. Roger’s body visibly stiffened from her words. With his gun still raised, he slowly turned to find where she was. “Don’t even think of it. I have one of those things pointed straight at your head. And don’t think I don’t know how to use it.”
Then, just as quickly, Elizabeth felt her calmness evaporate at Roger’s quick movements, his gun now pointed at her. She screamed in panic, her finger instinctively pulled the trigger, the force and shock of her shot sent her back into the leather chair.
Simultaneously, she heard the sound of another gun; her gun falling to the floor from her numb hands. Another loud shot ricocheted through the house, sending Elizabeth scrambling on the floor in a panic, her hands searching for the fallen gun. She flinched when her hand grasped the hot barrel, burning her palm. Cursing, she dropped the gun once more, lifting her hand to her lips to blow on it, her cool breath soothing on the warm, stinging flesh. The thought of Leo shot sent her scrambling once more for the gun. Her hands shook terribly as she took a hold of the handle this time. Scooting quickly to the corner, she brought the gun up in front of her, looking down the catwalk to the stairs leading to the downstairs and angry with herself for panicking when Leo needed her the most.
The sound of things breaking and running feet made Elizabeth’s heart race even more in her chest, the sound loud
in her ears. As sweat started to pool on her upper lip in fear, another shot rang through the house. Elizabeth cried out as she covered her ears, her knees pulled up to her chest, sending her mind within itself.
She once more found herself that helpless child from her childhood, trapped within the hutch, her hands beating the walls which were closing in upon her. She saw her mother once more, bruised and bloody just before she took her last breath.
Then the face changed from her mother’s to Leo’s. The vision consumed her in a nightmarish horror. Blood pooled around his head instead as he lay on the hardwood floor. The light in his green eyes fading as his hand reached for her. Roger stood over him, looking down. Then his head slowly raised, his lips curled into a cold smile, not reaching his dark eyes that seemed to look straight into her, down to her soul. His words cold and cruel, “look what you have done.”
Chapter 40
Elizabeth screamed when she jerked back from the vision to find herself rocking against the wall, her mind slowly registering the silence in the house. Afraid to break the silence, she sat frozen, fearful that the vision she saw was true. Her mind wildly went through different terrifying scenarios of Roger lying in wait after he had taken care of Leo. She could almost feel the bullet ripping through her skin as she ran through the dark night. Then, slowly she realized what she was doing, hiding in the corner like a helpless scared rabbit. The past was paralyzing her. Her fear turned to anger in a flash of realization.
Calmness overcame her as she remembered a western movie she had seen just a few weeks ago. Her mind formulated a plan. In the movie, a man avoided being shot by swerving as he ran, not giving the gunman a clear target. Elizabeth decided that was what she was going to do if he was lying in wait. If Roger was going to shoot her, then he was going to have to be a pretty damn good shot to do it. Almost laughing out loud at the ridiculous thought, she also thought how brilliant it was, knowing that if she was to tell someone at this moment what she was thinking they would believe her crazy.
Secrets of the Weeping Willow Page 28