For Love of Evil - [Roman Godfrey/Hemlock Grove]

-32-

Lyra had stolen Roman's car. She sped down the road in a race against time. She had to get out of town - she had to leave Hemlock. The tires squealed when coming to a hard stop in front of Peter's trailer. She

Peter was already outside, a cigarette between his fingers. He tossed it to the ground, rushing toward the jaguar. He saw Lyra climbing out, her face showing signs of distress.

"Where's Roman?" Peter asked, keeping his eyes on Lyra as she sprinted down the driveway.

"He's at the White Tower." Lyra barreled into Peter's arms, tripping on her own two feet as she tumbled down the patch of gravel.

"Wait- you just fucking left him there?... And you stole his car." Peter said, looking to the top of the hill at Roman's jaguar.

"He left me no choice; he was gonna let them kill me." Lyra cried, the vision playing over in her mind as she thought of Johann's plan. Her chin began to quiver at the images - the word "hemorrhage" blinking like a strobe light in courier font.

"What are you talking about? Roman wouldn't let anyone hurt you." Peter grabbed Lyra by her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.

She shook her head. "He doesn't know, and I couldn't tell him. He-he's out of control, if I would've told him they would've-"

"Hey, hey, hey- calm down. Start from the beginning." Peter pursed his lips, dropping his hands from Lyra's shoulders. He stepped back, folding his arms with furrowed brows, trying to make sense of Lyra's stammers.

"My dad came to the motel, he forced me to go with him."

"To the White Tower?" Peter asked; Lyra nodded.

"They're trying to manipulate Roman; they're telling him that if I don't terminate the pregnancy, Olivia will kill me, but..." Lyra's words came out in a strain, sniffing back tears. "Pryce is in on it. His plan was to kill me during the procedure- he was gonna make it look like an accident. I don't know how my dad hasn't picked up on it, unless-"

"He's in on it, too." Peter's face fell; his furrowed brows smoothing.

"I don't know, Ares completely shut down. He wouldn't let me in on his thoughts or emotions - I didn't even know he could do that." Lyra sobbed, burying her face in her hands to hide her distress from Peter. "I couldn't tell Roman because he's a mess. There's no telling what he would've done had he known the truth- or what they would've done to him once he found out. My only option was to run." Lyra wiped the wetness away from her face, staring out into the night through the trees; the moonlight reflecting on the pond below the trailer.

"Can't argue with you there- Roman's gone off the fucking rails."

Lyra removed her six-pointed star pendant, pulling it over her head. She held the necklace in her hand, holding it out to Peter.

"I want you to give this to Roman." Lyra watched as Peter took the necklace from her hand. He looked up from the pendant, shaking his head at Lyra.

"You should give it to him. Explain what's going on- maybe he'll find a way-"

Lyra was already shaking her head disapprovingly. "You and I both know Roman won't listen. You have to be the one to tell him. Let him know that I'll be back and... that I love him." Lyra's voice cracked at the end of her request.

She turned, moving back to Roman's car. She had less than a thousand dollars in cash, but maybe knew of someone who could take her in for a while - possibly an old friend from Allentown, Vickie. She didn't have a plan; she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

"You know Roman's gonna come looking for you!" Peter yelled. Lyra turned, continuing to make her way to the car as she looked down the steep driveway at Peter.

"Tell him I'll be back. Tell him to trust me!" Lyra climbed into the car, turning the key in the ignition. Peter watched as the jaguar speed away, groaning at her actions.

He dreaded the way Roman was bound to handle things. Peter knew that Roman would leave town to search for Lyra - he knew Roman would stop at nothing to find her. Roman's obsession with Lyra had taken over every aspect of his life - completely overriding all logical thought and action.

Peter started toward the trailer; already going over how to break the news to Roman. There was no one he could trust - the only people Roman could trust were targets.

The sound of screeching tires pulled Peter out of his thoughts. He turned, staring up the stretch of road that was visible. There was a loud 'boom,' the sound of glass shattering just up the road ahead, where Peter was unable to see.

Peter started up the driveway; the closer he got to the top of the hill, the more he could see headlights.

Peter's chest tightened at the sight, climbing to the road. He saw Roman's jaguar - purring idly in the middle of the road, setting diagonally across both lanes.

It had been hit head on; the impact so hard that the front end had been caved in, only one headlight shining into the woods. There was another vehicle; an SUV of some sort, possibly a ford.

Peter stood in awe at the wreckage, unable to move, seeing the sight before him. The driver's side door to Roman's jaguar came open. He saw Lyra's shadow, crawling on her hands and knees onto the pavement, slowly making her way out of the road and into the trees.

Peter didn't understand what she was doing; why she hadn't waited for help to arrive. Lyra had to have known that Peter heard all the commotion - why hadn't she just waited for him?

Peter started toward the car; he stopped dead in his tracks when seeing the door to the SUV come ajar - the interior dome light revealing what was inside. The familiar woman stepped out of the vehicle; her high heels clinking against the pavement. She was wearing all white - the symbol of purity, but Peter knew she was anything but. She strode past the wreckage casually, wearing a long wool trench coat. Her long brown hair flowed in waves, dancing against her shoulder blades as she marched into the woods after Lyra.

It was Olivia. Peter looked up into the night's sky, reminding himself that it was not a full moon. He could either let Lyra die at the hands of Roman's mother, or take a chance and turn on a moon that was not full. Peter was torn - conflicted on what to do. If he didn't take the chance, Roman would never forgive him. But there were more serious consequences if Peter turned; he had seen it himself - his grandfather, Nicolae. If Peter took the risk, he would be more susceptible at becoming what his grandfather had became, a vargulf.

Peter swallowed hard, weighing the options. Roman was Peter's best friend - his only friend. He knew that Roman would do anything for him, and that he needed to be willing to put himself on the line.

Peter sighed, removing his vest; dropping it into the road. He pursed his lips, gazing up into the night with dread. The least he could do was try.