(A.N. Back to Erin's P.O.V. Again, thank you for the reviews. I know I'm raising some interesting questions. Those will all be answered soon enough. For now, just enjoy!)
I heard a soft knock at my door.
"Come in," I said. Patri opened the door.
"I spoke to him," he said.
"You didn't have to," I replied.
"If we're going to be together as long as I suspect we will, he needs to learn to live with you," he said.
"Thank you for the thought," I said.
"He doesn't trust you," he said. I smiled as I folded one of my shirts.
"I never asked him to," I said. He just smiled and patted my hand.
"I know," he said. "I'll go get myself settled in."
"Okay," I said. I went back to sorting my clothes. It would take a while to pack. I didn't want to leave behind any if I could help it. Connor would have made some smart remark. He seemed to be going out of his way to make things difficult. After they had gone up to their rooms, Patri had stayed behind. He tried to smooth it over, but it didn't work out very well. Connor would have to come around on his own. I'd probably have to save his life before he'd trust me. He was convinced I was going to kill him in his sleep. I was about to that point by the time I sent him upstairs. Maybe I still could.
As I was going through my clothes, I pulled out one of my dad's shirts. I held it to my face and inhaled deeply. It still smelled like him. I decided I'd take it with me. It wouldn't smell like him forever, but it would give me a little more time with him. If I closed my eyes, I could see him standing in front of me. I knew soon my memories would begin to fade. I wouldn't be able to recall his voice as well or see his face. That was the hardest part. No matter how hard I tried, I'd lose him to time. I wanted time to freeze right there. I could stay sixteen with clear memories of my father in the house he loved so much. I wouldn't have to run or spend the rest of my life with my father's killers. I could just stay in this moment. A few tears slipped onto the shirt.
"Oh, sorry," Murphy's voice made me jump. I turned around, furiously wiping my eyes.
"It's okay," I said.
"I was looking for Connor's room, actually," he said.
"He's down the hall a bit," I said. "Third door down from this one on the right."
"Are you okay?" he asked. I shook my head.
"No, I'm not," I couldn't believe I'd actually given an honest answer.
"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked, coming in and closing the door. I shook my head.
"Not really. It'll just make me cry harder," I said.
"Sorry," he said. I wanted to tell him he should be. That this was all his fault. Everything I was feeling right now was all because of his stupid divine mission. But the words stopped in my throat. I couldn't say anything. He looked awkward standing there. He shoved his hands in his pockets, as I learned he did when he was nervous.
"Well, I better go," he said.
"Wait," I said. "I have a question for you."
"Go ahead," he replied.
"Who actually killed my father? Who fired the shot?" I asked.
"Connor did," he said. "He was the first one in the door." I covered my face. I wished I had never asked. It just made it harder to like Connor now. More than ever, I wanted to stop his heart for good. Almost as quickly, pain morphed into anger. I felt like I really could kill him. I pushed past Murphy and ran down the hall to Connor's room. He ran after me, not sure what I was going to do. I threw open the door. Connor was laying on the bed, half asleep.
"How could you?" I barked. He jerked up.
"What?" he asked.
"You were the one! How could you be such a bastard to me when you were the one that killed my father!"
"What the hell did you tell her?" Connor looked at Murphy. Before he could answer, I stepped forward and punched Connor in the face with all I had. He howled in pain and surprise. I grabbed my throbbing fist and was ready for another round. Murphy grabbed me around the waist.
"That's enough. You made your point," he said.
"I should have killed you when I had the chance!" I yelled. I thrashed around, trying to claw Connor's eyes out. He kept his distance.
"You're fucking crazy! You know that?" he snapped back.
"How would you feel if I shot your father? How would you feel if I put a bullet in his brain and left him to die in front of you?" I cried. That shook him. For the first time since we'd met, I saw the expression in his eyes waver. It appeared that before then, he hadn't really considered what he'd done. It was just another day, another corpse. They were never people's fathers, sons, brothers, or husbands. They were just evil. It didn't change the fact that they were human, too. It was the first time since he'd started this that he realized the true magnitude of what he'd done. I wanted so badly to make him hurt like I did.
"You want to hurt me? Because you got a good fucking start," he said, dabbing his bloody nose.
"Yes, I do," I said. Without warning, Murphy let go of me. I took my chance and lunged at his brother. I hit him in the nose again. This time, his eyes watered. I probably broke it. I hit, kicked, and clawed at him until I couldn't even hold myself up. He never once hit me in return. I collapsed backward onto Murphy. He barely caught me.
"It's over now," he whispered. Connor held his sleeve to his nose.
"You wanted my respect, you've got it," he said. I didn't even have the strength to speak. I just laid half on Murphy, half on the floor, in a near comatose state. I was okay now. Life was going to be okay now.
"What's going on in here? Miss Erin, are you all right?" Mathilde came running in.
"She'll be fine, just a fainting spell," Murphy said. I looked up at him with grateful eyes.
"Should I call the doctor?" she asked.
"No," I replied softly. "I'll be fine."
"Very well. Supper is ready," she said.
"Thank you, Mathilde," I said. Murphy helped me up.
"Impressive. I'm not going to let him forget he was beat up by a girl," he said. I smiled weakly.
"I wouldn't call that beat up," I said.
"I think you broke his nose, judging by the blood," he said.
"My first real notch on my belt," I said. He laughed.
"Won't be your last, I'm sure," he smiled. It was the smile that made me want to melt. I wanted to fall into his arms and declare my love for him. Of course, I knew nothing about love. I had understood hate, so I knew I could understand love. The balance would come soon enough. It always did.
Connor came out of the bathroom wearing a clean shirt and having cleaned up his face.
"Ready to eat?" he asked. We nodded.
"Then what are we waiting for?" The three of us walked down the stairs to dinner, our first steps to what we would become.