Cherry Wine {lex luthor}

chapter twenty nine

The sky flamed as the sun set. The green lights of the approaching storm reflected off the disturbed waters of the bay. The Bat symbol shone like a fresh burn against the dark clouds. With the lights out in the apartment, I could see everything as bright and close as a painting.

la poésie est dans la rue en couleur pleine de vie

My father used to repeat that phrase to me over and over. The poetry is in the streets in full living colour. The french students graffitied the walls of Paris with it during the general strike-my father had lived in Paris during his childhood. He had seen the remnants of that strike everywhere, and that was what stuck with him. Poetry in the streets.

The storm was poetry, and for the very first time in my life, I saw myself with full living clarity.

I was dying, and not because of my injuries or my heart. I was dying because I held too much inside me, repressed too much, clung to one person and hoped he'd save me from myself. I had not allowed myself to grieve my parents. I had filled that hole in my chest with love-a new kind of love. I didn't regret it, not a bit. There was no denying that I was better off now than I had ever been. I had someone who would protect me to the ends of the earth.

I couldn't sleep, not now. Lex had said he'd be home late. I wanted to know how late 'late' was.

There was a phone on the desk in his study. I had no qualms about going in. I knew he kept everything of any import at the mansion, and besides, nothing could sway my utter belief in him now. He saw the world the way I couldn't; in absolutes, in blacks and whites, not shades of grey.

On instinct, I opened the notebook on the desk. There was, just as I expected, a list of emergency numbers for me to call. The first listed was Lex's cell phone.

He picked up before the phone had time to ring even once.

"Ruth? Are you alright?"

There was a strange sound on the other end of the line, like wind or a blade.

"I'm-where are you?" I asked, as I heard voices behind him. "What's going on?"

"Aren't you meant to be sleeping?" He said sharply.

"Lex, where are you?" I asked again. "What's going on?"

"Go to bed, Ruth."

The line went dead, and I almost dropped to my knees. The sense of wrongness was back and stronger than ever. Lex was doing something wrong, something irredeemable. Flashes of conversations burst in my head; Lex, on the phone, pictures of green rocks and decomposing men, his voice through his study walls, giddy and rich. His obsession with me, with my redemption. I needed to find him. I had to be sure.

A chopper blew past the window, and I leapt to my feet. He was on the roof. The wind, the voices-it had to be.

For such a complex building, the roof was easy to find. An industrial stairwell lay behind a door on the lower floor of the apartment, disguised as a cupboard. It was three short flights, and then I burst outside. Cold air blew my hair around my face, obscuring my vision. I heard Lex's voice, canted high and mocking.

"...And I believe the straightest path to Superman is a pretty little road called Lois Lane."

I pulled my hair from my face just in time to see Lex shove a red-headed woman from the roof. I screamed, falling to my knees. I knew her, I had seen her. I had her business card in the pocket of my pink velvet sweater.

Lex whirled, his trench coat flying out behind him. We were alone, now, and I screamed again as he stepped towards me.

"You killed her!" I wailed, my voice caught by the wind.