Page 42 of Sloth
“Luke, I’m worried,” I tell him. “It’s only eight thirty, maybe if we drive over to the Kendrick’s?—”
“Erin, calm down. Nothing's wrong with Liza; you're just trying to find yourself something to worry about.” He tries to calm me, and when a message pops up on my phone from her, he gives me that smug look as I open it.
Sorry, I missed your call. These extra hours are kicking my ass. Call in the morning?
“Don’t look at me like that.” I point my finger at him before texting her back.
“Come on, I’m at a really good part about swaddling.” He lifts up the book and gives me that boyish grin, and I snatch the thing out of his hand and put it on the table.
“Did you read the part about the second-trimester labido? It’s even better.”
“I was focusing more on after the baby got here.” He stares up at me, confused.
“You’re missing the best part.” I take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.
It seems as though I’m looking down a tunnel; flashes from my darkest memories, jumping out at me from the black. My dad, and how his hand would always rest on my leg. The slight squeezes he’d make that reminded me to keep our secret whenever my grandparents visited. Matthew, and that satisfied face he’d pull as he unbuckled his belt. I will myself to wake up so I don’t have to see them anymore.
I keep focusing on the light at the end of the darkness. I know this has to end; the nightmares always do, and when I do, I know Luke will be there waiting for me.
One day, given time, maybe they’ll go away for good, but until then, I have to endure the torture. I focus a little harder when I see Liza; she’s never usually here. She doesn’t belong; all the memories I have with her are good, and it makes me panic harder when I get the feeling she’s in danger. I try to make out where she is, but the vision’s too blurry. She looks worried, scared, and I want to call out and tell her that everything's gonna be okay, but I know she won’t hear me.
My voice never works here, my screams are never heard, and my prayers are never answered.
I see a gun in her hand and breathe a sigh of relief when I know she’s protected. The light’s getting closer now, overtaking the darkness.
“Erin…Erin!” I can hear Luke's voice. I gravitate to his warmth; he’s waiting to save me all over again, so I run. I run hard and fast to get to him, and just before the light takes over completely, my vision of Liza gets clearer. I see the gun that's in her hand more closely, and when I realize what gun it is, it knocks all the breath from my body.
“Erin. Erin, wake up.” I open my eyes and see Luke; his wild, worried eyes desperately searching over me and relaxing when he realizes that I’m back with him. He reaches to the nightstand to grab me some water. I’m soaked wet through, so much that I wonder if he threw some on me to wake me up, but when I pat myself down, I realize it’s sweat sticking to my clothes, not water.
“Babe, that was a real bad one.” He looks haunted himself as he places the glass back down and pulls me to his chest. “I couldn’t wake you.” I can’t form the words to tell him I’m okay, so I cling on tight to his arm and focus on the way his chest rises and falls against mine so I can follow its rhythm.
“She had the gun.” I manage to force the words, closing my eyes and trying to pull that last vision back just so I can be sure.
“Who had a gun?” He strokes the sweat-soaked hair from my face and blows over me to try and cool me down.
“Matthew’s gun, the one missing from the cabinet. Liza had it in her hand,” I explain, pulling at the t-shirt of his that I’m wearing, when it feels too tight around me.
“Listen, dreams show us all kindsa crazy things. I once dreamed I was riding a fuckin’ lion in the town parade. You were worried about Liza earlier; you probably self-consciously put the gun in her hand so you know she’ll be safe,” he tells me.
“No, Luke, you don’t understand.” I shake my head and push him off me when I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe. My nightmares are never made up; they aren’t in my imagination. They’re memories; things that have happened. Moments that Ihave to relive. Why would Liza have been holding Matthew’s gun?”
I don’t want to even think that what I’m imagining could be true. Itcan’tbe true.
“What do you need?” Luke asks, looking helpless.
“I need to speak to Liza, to ask her why she was holding the gun that killed your brother,” I tell him.
“What do you need that I can give you right now?” He rephrases his question.
“I need you to tell me that my best friend isn’t a murderer.” I look up at him hopefully.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LUKE
“Iknow you think I’m crazy.” Erin looks at me as we pull up outside Liza’s parents’ house.
“I don’t think you're crazy,” I assure her. “I just think your emotions are all mixed up, and you're a little confused right now. To murder someone, you need a motive, and what motive would Liza have to kill Matthew? She thought the two of you were happy together.”
