Almost Lovers (18 page)

"You think you're better than me?" she
yelled at me, her face lit up in fury. That was when I knew we had
hit the limits and passed right into crazy-town territory.

I tried to brace myself but my courage
failed me at the last second, taking two quick steps backwards
right into the kitchen counter.

She wrapped a hand around my throat and
squeezed. I instinctively placed my hands up to my throat to try
and pry her fingers away from my throat. I managed to get one or
two fingers bent backwards before she would readjust her grip. If
anything it annoyed her but I couldn't breath and was starting to
get desperate.

I started pulling at her arms, feeling only
a slight bow as I tugged. She had to be racing with adrenaline and
extremely mad because she had terrifying strength. When she placed
both her hands around my throat and lifted me up off the ground, my
head against the upper kitchen cabinets, I started to panic.

This wasn't your high school scuffle. She
looked at me like she really wanted me dead and if I didn’t fight
she might succeed. As she lifted me off the ground I could feel my
feet swinging and I did the only thing I could. I kicked. I kicked
over and over again as if I were swimming for an Olympic medal. I
felt faint, the dizziness closing in on me when I reached my true
point of desperation. I could hear her voice.

"You're going to leave Sebastian alone," she
was yelling at me, starting to bang my head into the cabinets,
"You're going to leave him alone or I'm going to make your little
Robert disappear and make you a non-factor, bitch,"

I dug deep. I had nothing left. I felt my
consciousness slipping. I wasn't going to die like this, in a
kitchen, at the hands of Lydia - the home wrecker that stole my man
and ruined my life.

I grabbed on to her arms, her hands still
squeezing around my throat, and I pulled both my legs up. Pulling
my knees tight to my chest, I pushed them as high up as they would
go with as much force as I could gather. She had been so close to
me that when my knees came rocketing up between us they nailed her
square in the chin and she went hurling backwards.

I fell and landed on the floor with a thud.
It hurt but I could breath. I crawled as quickly as I could, each
gasp for small amounts of air audible, and made my way toward the
back part of the kitchen. Lydia rolled over and started to get up
off of the floor.

My lungs were on fire. My throat didn't want
to behave. It was hard to breathe still. I felt like I was drowning
in too much and not enough air at the same time. I couldn't breathe
a moment ago and now I had so much air to breathe I couldn't slow
down as I gasped. I was in danger of hyperventilating. I forced
myself off the floor and got to the sink.

I couldn’t think clearly but I knew one
thing - Lydia meant to hurt me and I meant to live. I sunk my hand
into the sink full of dirty water and bubbles. My hand came up with
a sharp carving knife. I was thankful for a knife in this
situation.

I could feel the water dripping off the
knife as I turned my body to face her, eyes never having left her
at all. She stood near the entrance to the apartment and for a
moment I thought she would leave. Then in a blink of an eye she
came for me and I felt my fight or flight instinct kick in. I
wasn't going to run. I had done a lot of running lately. If she
wanted me dead she would need to realize I wasn't going to lie down
and let her beat me.

If I needed any more proof that karma was on
my side it was evident in the next split second. Lydia ran toward
me and I stood ready to fight in my kitchen with a soaking wet
knife dripping a puddle of dirty dishwater around me. I watched as
her pretty heels hit that kitchen tile and before I saw anything
else I saw the recognition in her eyes.

She slipped and she fell right toward my
knife. That moment is when karma gave me a nod because she careened
right toward my knife in hand. Sometimes when you have only a split
second to decide something your gut and morals take over. There
isn't enough time to think. You simply react.

And as her face turned from homicidal rage
to a look of shock, horror and fear I realized that I wasn't the
person standing before her. It wasn't who I am and wasn't someone I
wanted to be. Of course, I didn’t have time to process all of this
until after I lifted my hand up and moved the knife out of the way
of her face. It didn't mean I didn't want to kill her as she had
just tried to kill me. But it certainly made me feel a little
better about myself when she slid right into the kitchen cabinets
so hard she knocked herself out.

I looked down at Lydia, her pitiful self in
a horrible display with her dress askew and her little bit of
clothing soaking up the dirty dishwater that had made her slip. I
realized that I still had a knife in my hand and to anyone else
this would look extremely bad for me. I felt happy that she had
actually knocked herself out and I hadn't had to do a single thing
to her but in general the fear over what had just happened
overwhelmed me beyond any other emotion. What the hell had I gotten
myself in to? Lydia just tried to kill me. What do I do next?

I ran into the hallway and looked to see if
anyone had seen or heard anything. Our floor was deserted most of
the time. The nosiest person in the building was spread out on my
kitchen floor and had just tried to choke me to death. But it would
be my luck to get a curious neighbor at exactly the wrong time.

I headed toward the elevator, not sure what
to do next. It was only as I passed Lydia's door that I realized
she couldn't fit anything in her skimpy outfit. She hadn't brought
a purse, no clutch, nothing and she had no pockets in that dress. I
used my sleeve and tried the door to her apartment. Sure enough, it
was unlocked. I slowly opened the door and waited for someone to
call out and ask who was at the door.

No one called out. Just silence. With her
door now wide open, I moved as fast as I could. I ran back to my
apartment and jumped through my apartment door ready for a fight,
in the event that she had woken up during the three delirious
moments I had spent in the hallway. My heart raced and the
adrenaline took over.

I felt as if my heart would explode at any
moment. I grabbed her by her ankles and began dragging her,
wiggling her body to try and get her to glide on the hard floors
easier. You would think that all the water she had been laying in
would make her easier to slide but it had started to dry as soon as
I had begun dragging her. Her skin had started to cling and stick
to the floor. That would be one hell of a well deserved rug burn on
her ass tomorrow.

I snickered to myself at the thought as I
kept grunting away, trying to drag her into the hall. I had her
legs up, a good grip on her ankles, but she weighed deceptively
heavier than her appearance.

I paused at my door and checked the hallway
one more time for random witnesses. I listened for the elevator and
heard nothing. I waited a few seconds and then began dragging Lydia
as fast as I could down the hall to her apartment.

It felt like a solid hour of dragging her
scantily clad squeaky butt down that dirty hallway but I'm sure I
managed in less than five minutes. Once I got her into the
apartment I closed the door as fast as I could. I dragged her onto
the rug in her living room. I looked around me and there was
nothing but party mess on every surface.

Alone in Lydia’s apartment, looking down at
her sad self, I realized that I was in way over my head. I smacked
myself in the head and rushed over to at least make sure she had a
pulse. My hands trembled as I pushed my fingers into the side of
her throat looking for a pulse. My stomach plummeted when I didn’t
find a heart beat. Panic set in as I struggled to feel her pulse at
all. Her skin felt cold to me all of a sudden. Had I just dragged a
dead girl down the hallway? I grabbed handfuls of my hair and sat
on the floor, pulling my knees up under my chin and closing my
eyes. This couldn’t be happening. I hadn’t even done anything. But
it’s not the way it would look.

It would look like I had dragged her down
the hallway after I killed her in my kitchen,. Maybe they would say
she had come to see Robert and I had been the jealous ex. I began
frantically rubbing everything I might have touched in the
apartment with my shirt sleeve. I even tried rubbing my prints off
of her shoes in case I had touched them too. I tried to wipe
everything as fast as I could. I looked at the living room, Lydia’s
body splayed in the middle of the rug in a very unflattering
manner. I couldn’t stay any longer. I had to get out of there. I
spun around quickly and to my horror my arm caught on the edge of a
table lamp. It came down and pieces of lamp shattered all over the
floor around my feet.

Terrified someone heard the lamp break, I
locked the little door knob lock from the inside and then stepped
out of Lydia’s apartment. As quickly and calmly as I could, I
pulled the door behind me slowly, quietly, closed. I might not have
bested Lydia in a fight but I had survived. Maybe next time she
wouldn't wear heels to a fight in a kitchen with dirty dishes and
dull kitchen knives. And then that got me wondering, would there be
a next time? Had I just killed Lydia? What happens now? Now I
sprint for my apartment and pray. The click of the door signaled
that the door was closed and that was when I heard it.

I heard the ding that meant someone had
called for the elevator. I sprinted to my apartment as if someone
would catch me alone in the hallway and somehow just know there was
a dead mega-bitch in the apartment down the hall and it was my
fault. As if my life depended on it.

I felt the slap on my face and my eyes were
open immediately, ready to fight. My fangs were down and my hands
were up, nails at the ready. My vision was blurry and my head
bobbed a little as I tried to see who was standing over me. I felt
woozy. I tried to shake it away and it barely helped.

"You really are a drunk, Lydia," said a
familiar voice standing over me.

I groaned slightly. I would know her voice
anywhere. My Master stood over me, her smile coming into focus
finally with her short hair looking like a halo around her round
face.

"It's not what it looks like," I said,
groaning as I reached up to touch my head. There was a small amount
of blood on the top of my head but the wound had already healed.
One of the best parts about being a vampire was the fast healing
from everything from bruising to stabbings. I stumbled as I got to
my feet and Master helped to steady me.

"This ought to be good," she said out of the
side of her mouth. She thought I would have a funny story to
recount. I had a feeling she would be disappointed. I slunk to the
sofa and sank into it.

"Master..." I said, hand to my head and too
ashamed to look at her, "I made a mistake,"

The room got quiet and still. I waited for
whatever punishment she had for me. Last time I made a mistake she
had skinned me. Not exactly the most fun to live through but I had
let the Chancellor discover that I had been sent as an assassin. If
that didn't get you in hot water, blowing your own cover in a very
stupid way, I don't know what did.

"What seems to be the problem?" she
asked.

She stayed standing and stood very close to
me. I could see her hands were tense.

"Penelope, I just didn't think-" I began and
immediately realized my mistake.

I felt the flash of her hand against my
cheek. My head wasn't in the best state and I could hear ringing.
The lighting was blindingly bright as I stretched my jaw and waited
for the pain to ease enough that I could see and hear again.

"The Chancellor all over again?" she asked,
"Is that where you want to end up? Because your creator isn't here
to take the stake this time."

I looked up at her and all I could manage,
safely and with my temper, was a glare. I practiced concentrating
on my breathing, on the pain, and I slowed my anger.

"I'm sorry, Master," I said, "I'm
disoriented. I'm not even sure how I got here."

I looked up at her then, embarrassment and
shame evident on my face. Not knowing how I had gotten home wasn't
even the worst part. Attacking Prussia and then somehow managing to
knock myself out was the worst. A human had gotten lucky and gotten
the best of me. The only luck I had on my side had been that I
didn't drop my fangs or she would have killed me or worse. I tried
not to think about it.

"What do you mean?" asked Penelope, "You
don't remember?"

"I mean..." I took a deep breath and had no
idea where to even start.

"Just spit it out Lydia," said Penelope,
rolling her eyes and her head, annoyed.

"I attacked Prussia," I blurted out,
"against the order of the Queen. The penalty is death,"

"Did you kill her?" asked Penelope without
missing a beat, staring intently at me and waiting to hear the
answer.

"No," I said after a long pause, "As soon as
anyone knows...I don't know how much time I have,"

"Wow," said Penelope, laughing and then
looking at me with a perplexed look, "How do you manage to be on
the wrong side of the Queen's chopping block after less than a
month back in the royal court?"