An Eye For An Eye

Trente-Cinq

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, I felt the tears well up in my eyes. I felt like I was going to throw up.

“Liza?”

As soon as his arms wrapped around me, I cried. Holding onto him as tight as I could, I let the tears fall. I didn’t have to hold them back to avoid crying in public.
“What happened, my love?”
“She didn’t believe me, I don’t really know if she does now. But she’s glad I’m happier, I think,” I whispered.
“What’s in your hand?”

The cane.

“It’s for you, she won’t need it soon because she’s having surgery,” I said and pulled out of the hug. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket and placed it in his hand. “It folds and if you take the rubber off the end, it’s got a point on it.” Deucalion unfolded the cane and his hand slid along it until he reached the rubber end. He pulled it off and held it in the same hand as he felt the point. He winced a little as he cut his finger open.
“It’s certainly sharp,” he said. “Why does she have this?”
“Her father made it, in case she needed to defend herself or something like that,” I explained. I couldn’t remember the exact words.

He shakily covered the point with the rubber and folded it back up.
“Liza, you’re shaking,” he said as he took my hand. I hadn’t noticed.
“I just…” I shook my head, what were the words to describe what had just happened? “That was a lot…”
“I imagine it would be,” he said. “But it didn’t go too badly?”
“No,” I said as I shook my head. “I guess it didn’t, she didn’t try to hit me or call anyone to tell them I was there.”

“Do you think she’ll tell anyone?” he asked. I hoped she wouldn’t. She knew the truth now, all of it. She knew about her father and what Gerard did and what I had been doing. She knew I was a werewolf. If she told anyone…
“I hope not.”

Even if I felt like curling up and crying, I didn’t want to do that. I couldn’t do that, I needed to do something else to distract myself from it. Looking at the coffee table, I couldn’t see the notebook and pen that I had put down earlier.

“Where’s the notebook?” I asked him.
He sighed. “Someone must have moved it, check my study. One of them likely put it in there.”
“I’m also quite close to the end of the notebook.”
“There should be one in the left draw of my desk, it’s red, I think,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said. With a smile on my face, I took a step back and headed to the door which led to the study. I’d never been in there, it was the only room I hadn’t been in.

Stepping inside, I was not disappointed. There was a large bookcase on my left with only a few books left on it. There were boxes piled in the corner. In the centre of the room was an antique desk with an equally as impressive chair. On the desk was the notebook and pen that I was looking for.

Walking around the desk, I looked at the half-empty bottle of blue ink. That was probably the ink he had been using to refill the pen. I had no idea how to use it so he had refilled the pen for me. There were papers left on the desk, next to the notebook I had been using. They looked important and while I was curious, it was none of my business.

Pulling open the left draw, I pulled out the red notebook, which I was fairly sure was leather, from underneath small pots of paper clips and rubber bands. It still had the cardboard packaging tucked in it. I took the cardboard from around it and picked up the notebook and pen too. After shutting the draw, I headed back to the door, dropping the cardboard into the bin that was by the door.

Shutting the door to his study behind me, I took a deep breath and headed to the guest room. I could feel the tears in my eyes as I lay down on the bed. Staring at the closed door, I felt rather alone. I hadn't been in this room, other than to change clothes, for a few days. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be alone or not.

As much as seeing Kara again and explaining the truth to her had made me feel better because I was no longer lying to my best friend, it hurt. I'd never get to talk to her again, I wouldn't get to bake or sing or dance or insult whoever was announcing the songs on the radio again. I’d never get to do any of that.

Because I had left.

Because I had run away and stopped being a hunter. Because I was a werewolf, I was her entire family’s enemy, I was my own family’s enemy, except for Chris. The truce between Chris and Deucalion’s pack was still standing, as far as I was aware, and I was now a part of Deucalion’s pack.

There were knocks at the door and I stared at it.

“Liza?”

Deuc.

“Yes?”
“Would you like to help me make dinner?” he asked. “You can pick what we eat.”
“Give me five minutes and I’ll come and help you,” I said, as loudly as I could. My voice was shaky and it sounded like I had been crying. But he probably knew that already, he could probably hear me. “Do you have the ingredients for spaghetti bolognese?”
“I think so,” he said. I smiled. “I’ve started counting for the five minutes, by the way.”
Laughing, I stood up. “Okay, four minutes and however many seconds and we’ll cook.”

I could hear him chuckling on the other side of the door.