Chapter 16

That night, it sucked heading to bed early.  I didn't miss school one bit and now, I'll have to work my ass off to catch back up along with try to understand where we were in class.  I wasn't looking forward to it at all.  But hey, it was better than living as I had the past week I suppose: in anticipation of people coming to my house and killing me.  I no longer needed to worry about that.  However, it was a little strange knowing I had a better time during that period than I would at school. 

Getting under my covers as Jack wagged his tail and rubbed up against me before he sneezed, Luke appeared in the door frame I noticed.  He leaned against it casually with arms crossed he watched me.  Looking up to him full on and no longer watching him from the side, as if I could pretend he wasn't there, I saw him purse his lips and his eyes feel to the ground.  I was confused to be honest. 

Usually, he goes to bed the same time I do because he has to work in the morning.  Yet he didn't seem to want to for some reason.  In fact, all day after Francis left he's been acting weird and for reasons I don't understand.  If anything, he should feel the relief off his shoulders; he no longer needed to worry about people breaking in to try to kill me.  He could rest finally but that was the opposite this that was happening.  It seemed to only get worse when Clare got home.  His eyes were distant and he looked very nervous. 

Now though, looking at him as I sat there in my bed, I knew there was something wrong.  First of all, he was lingering, resting against the frame of the door - almost like he was avoiding heading to bed. His figure gave away that something was going on with him for how tense he was.  His face was pale too and at the moment, I thought he might get sick.  He didn't look good; his expression held... well, guilt essentially but I mean it was clear there was much more going through his head.  His lips were pursed and his eyes sad, when they would meet mine that is, and wasn't trying to avoid my stare.

"What's been up with you?" I asked the question that has been itching at me all day.

I saw him visibly swallow and at speaking, I received his full attention, something else that seemed vacant most of the day. "Hmm?  Nothing, nothing," he shook his head, looking down.  "Um, are you sure you are fine without me sleeping in here?" His words seemed heavy for some reason, as if this were very important. 

I raised an eyebrow.  Why did that matter?  "Well yeah.... It's not like I need you in here anymore," I pointed out.

"I know," he nodded and I noticed his eyes fade. Like his hope was now gone.  For what?  I was still trying to figure that out because this wasn't like him.  He almost looked scared to be honest. The next second though, he tried to hide it, hide what he must have realized were clear giveaways that something was wrong.  He smiled gently but other than that, showed me what was mostly a blank face.  "I mean, if you don't feel safe or if... if you just want me in here then I will stay," he said quickly and though I probably would have liked the thought that he wanted to stay in here, it only made me worry.

"Is there a reason you want to continue sleeping on my floor?"

His eyebrows lowered but from that I could no longer see any sign of distress anymore. More like just... hopelessness.   "No," he reassured me.  "I just want you to know I can stay in here if you need me.  Great to know you don't," he muttered, glancing back out to his side from where he leaned against my door, as if looking into his room for some reason where Clare was now sleeping, paranoid.

There was something wrong; I was sure of it but I didn't know what it was and it was obvious he didn't want me to know.  So what else could I do?  I didn't want to pester him on the issue because if he wanted to tell me, he could and it was clear he didn't want to.  Whatever this was, he wanted to deal with it on his own.  So soon after that I went to bed and watched his reluctant form leave my room as he shut my door behind him.

I laid there for the longest time that night, trying to figure out what it was, mindlessly petting a sleeping Jack.  I knew it had nothing to do with the awkwardness between us.  In fact, it seemed as if those issues were pushed aside after Francis left.  His thoughts revolved around something else and I didn't like it, whatever it was.

Forcing myself to just forget about it, knowing I needed to get some rest for tomorrow, I slowly started to drift off into sleep.

***

The next day when I woke up and went downstairs for breakfast, he acted as if he was fine.  The way he was acting before was not present when I observed him while making my toast. He acted normal.  It looked kind of forced though but overall, it was like I could see he was just trying to get over it, whatever his issue was last night. Clare on the other hand was practically skipping.  She had a smile on her face and was especially happy today.  I know; makes me sick.  

He was relaxed now, more open and smiling and I honestly couldn't tell if that was forced or not after Clare left and he was to take me to school.  It was still something worth pondering over when I got to school because it really bothered me whatever it was. 

Thankfully, Natalie soon relieved me of that worry when I saw her. The perfect distraction. I haven't seen her in over two weeks; more actually. 

I hadn't seen her over Christmas break and it sucked because the first day back from school, she was gone.  However, that wouldn't have mattered anyway.  The first day back after break, Luke picked me up and it was that day that we went to the prison to question Clare's father.  And after that directly, Francis told us that they were coming after us and therefore, I was out of school once again before being back for no more than two hours of classes.

She texted me a couple times after seeing I wasn't back at school but at the time, I just told her that I was sick.  I mean, I had to lie.  It wasn't like I could tell her we were waiting for an attack. I thought I could trust her and probably could but it would just cause more questions I wouldn't be willing to answer.  She couldn't know some details obviously but I was happy I could be honest with her for the most part.  I was sure though she was anxious to talk to me.  After all, she saw the news I knew. 

Everyone did at school apparently.  Therefore, I got a lot of attention today, more than usual and it reminded me of my first day at this school.  Everybody was staring at me but I guess that came to be expected. But even more people were trying to ask me questions about what happened since it's all over the news and they wanted to hear it from me.  Of course, this was better than getting harassed constantly and spit on like that first day but it was still incredibly annoying. But though everyone was constantly bugging me, it was a relief to be around Natalie.  She wanted to know I knew, just as much as most of them probably, but she knew not to push for answers yet. Not to mention, I wouldn't have had much time to explain to her anything since class took all my attention and she wasn't in some of them.

Until I could talk to her at lunch, I was facing the rest of the school, who have obvious respect for me.

"What happened?  Did you shoot those three men?"

"Figures someone would want your ass dead."

"How much blood was there?"

"Did it really happen because of some grudge?"

"Did you have sex with any of the men before you shot them?" (I know, seriously?)

We actually decided to go sit out in her car during lunch to just get away from being approached with the retard-ness of these annoying kids.  Yes, middle of winter, it was worth eating in her car today because nobody would leave us alone and I had a lot to tell her.  Once she cracked up the heat though, it was more cozy in the car than in the school anyway. Sitting on the driver's side, eating a homemade sandwich she brought, I sat with the Styrofoam tray in my lap full of the greasy shit they serve here for lunch next to her.

Natalie was quiet and I knew she just wanted to know.  So I would put her out of her misery. "I'm only going to explain it once," was the first thing I said and she looked relieved, looking up at me with wide eyes and a smile.

"Finally!  I've been wanting to hear what the hell has been happening with you!"

"First of all, Merry late Christmas; did I say that right?" I smirked, trying to stretch it out which I knew she couldn't stand.

She groaned.  "Well Merry fucking Christmas to you too!" she said in a frustrated tone.  "Now please!  If you are going to tell me, tell me!  I've been waiting all day and now that we actually have a chance to talk, you need to tell me everything."

I laughed at her and grinned, looking back down to my plate and picking up the hot dog they served for lunch, taking a bite.  Glancing back up at her, I deliberately chewed slow and I could see the scowl over her lips start to form. 

She slapped my arm.  "Chew!  Come on so you can talk!"

"Alright, alright," I laughed, setting my hotdog back down on the plate in my lap and giving her my full attention this time. Shifting over in my seat to face her more, I set my tray on the dash and met my eyes in her anxious ones.  She was nice enough not to beg to know all day but once she saw I was ready to tell her, she had no issue in showing how badly she wanted to know what happened.

I told her a lot in that little time we had for lunch.  I mentioned Jack and she was happy I got a dog for Christmas.  She told me a bit about her Christmas too.  But after that, she put the spot light on me.  And I told her about how my old friends had a grudge on me from getting Mark killed.  She already knew that but that's all she needed to know.  I couldn't tell her much more - like how Francis is involved or how we knew it was coming.  I explained that they broke into my house and tried to kill me and that Luke, once again, managed to kill before they could.  Of course, when she pushed for details, I was forced to avoid the entire truth.  I skipped just around the edges.

"So what did you do when you heard them break down the door?" she asked, enthralled.

Avoiding what I could, I told her what actually did happen.  Just not what followed after.  "Luke had me hide in the bathroom.  Then he went downstairs and it was so fast... he just shot them like it was nobody's business."

Her jaw dropped open and her eyes widened.  She knew what happened; it was all over the news.  I guess it was just different coming from me.  "Wow," she sighed, glancing down in thought of what I just told her.  "Thank god you're okay," she said, shaking her head.  After a second though of thought, her lips tilted up and, trying to lighten the mood a bit, said, "It's a good think you have you step-daddy to 'take care of you.'"

I slapped her arm and chuckled.  "Quit it," I mumbled.

***

It took me three days to catch up with everything - and that meant me coming home and doing homework until I needed to go to bed.  I swear, I had more Chemistry work than anything. I doubt she gave her student's this much work.  Hmm.  Wonder why I would get so much.  Bitch. 

After that though, I never felt so relieved to just have the freedom I did before. What did I do with it, you ask?  Well my first taste of freedom came when I got home from school the day after I finished everything up.  And I was in luck; no homework given today either - which was quite rare. So I did what every American does when they aren't busy: plopped my ass down on the couch. 

It was pretty uneventful for the rest of the day.  Clare got home, I took Jack outside to go to the bathroom, Luke came home, then dinner. I will tell you this though: things started to get real after dinner when we all sat down and just started watching TV.

Sitting in the big chair adjacent to the couch, my eyes plastered and forced to the TV and for one reason: Luke and Clare.  I saw her starting to get cozy with him again and it really bothered me (so shut up about it).  I wanted to just punch her.  This kind of shit was starting to get repetitive because every time we watch TV together as a 'family' Clare was all over him, sometimes even looking like an eager slut.  And what could Luke do?  Absolutely nothing. No worse: he had to act as if everything was okay.

That's not what pissed me off though to the extreme.  Luke got up to go to the bathroom and the second he did and left the room, Jack found the open spot next to Clare to be very inviting compared to where he was laying on the floor.

My heart was automatically pumping faster at seeing my puppy jump up on the couch and next to a woman would I knew wouldn't have an issue killing him.  Watching out of the corner of my eye, acting as if I was still involved in what was happening on the screen, I noticed a playful Jack pounce Clare and started to climb up her body, his tail wagging innocently as he reached up to lick under her chin. 

The second he jumped up on the couch, I was uneasy.  He showed Clare affection before and she would return it.  But that would only be because she had witnessed around her to convince and impress with her loved for animals despite her being allergic to them.  So I'm sure Jack was expecting the same treatment she has been giving him: a rub on the head, stomach, or ears. However, I knew it wouldn't be that this time.  Luke was in the other room and it's not like she needed to hide her true nature from me.

My body was tense as I watched and waited and I noticed Clare was tense too; it's not everyday you have a loving dog in your lap, especially with Clare.  Unlike her though, she didn't find it cute, she didn't find him loveable.  She found it annoying.  And with Luke in the bathroom, she was able to express that annoyance. 

Clare's hand came up to where Jack was propped up in her lap, facing her and lapping at her chin lovingly, and she violently slide her hand up his back around him violently and by the time she was doing that, I turned fully to watch her in horror.  Before I could act on what she was doing though, it was too late. She gripped Jack tightly at the back of his neck to where I could see the knuckles turn white where she held him.  Clare lifted him off her lap in that grip and when she did, Jack cried out before she flung him as hard as she could to the floor. Jack just barely missed hitting the coffee table. 

That didn't mean he wasn't hurt though.  Clare flung him to the floor.  Hard.  To where I wouldn't have been shocked if he was really hurt badly.  The muscle she put behind it as she lifted him up only to roughly aim him at the ground and throw him was very obvious.  

Jack whimpered after he hit the ground.  I watched with what I could feel was wide eyes, my breath leaving me and I could only stare, silently begging this not to be happening to Jack.  By the time I was on my feet, standing and needing to do something, he scrambled up quickly and ran up the stairs fast, his tail down and I could still hear the light cries leave him. 

I was standing there, speechless and felt my heart beat harder, with worry over my dog and hate for my mother.  I was shocked and I knew I shouldn't have been.  It was like Clare to do that but to see her do that and just continue to sit there, as if she didn't just throw my dog as roughly as she could have... it made me nearly sick  Brushing off her lap, she glanced up to where I was standing by her, facing her, and she could only smile a menacing grin.  With that grin though, her voice didn't match it and she sounded concerned, as if she didn't witness what she just did.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?" She indicated my froze body as I stood there, fists wound tight in my hands shaking at what I just saw her do.

My body had control and I felt myself slowly move the few steps it took until I was fully standing in front of her and between the coffee table behind me.  I stared her down and I felt it building up in me, ready to break.  Hurting me was one thing.  And it was something I've dealt with forever.  But this was the first time in years she abused something I loved in order to just get to me.  Like she had with Emily and now, she just hurt Jack. And though I wouldn't punch her, knowing I can't don't that in the position we are in now, I didn't see an issue with slapping her.

Just like she did with Jack, I put all my muscle into slapping her across her smug ugly fucking face.  I got leverage even and that made it all the more better when my hand came into quick contact with her cheek.  To the point where the impact of my hand made her slump back from the impact and groan loudly.

After a slow and silent moment as I looked down at her, she finally moved. Gingerly, she clasped her hand over her cheek, rubbing just barely where I hit her and as if she didn't believe I had the much power in a slap before.  She stared off at the ground, letting it sink in what I just did. 

And it felt good.  I hadn't physically tried to fight back in a while because I didn't need to.  Now, it was sad how much I missed hurting her back.  I wanted more... and I felt that want thrive up in me with every passing second to do more.  To maybe find that knife of hers and torture her like she has done to me.  Maybe go a little deeper with that knife.  Or maybe just slit her throat with as much hatred as I had for her.

I didn't see it coming.  Maybe because my mind was swallowed in the wonderful fantasies of hurting her.  Maybe because I was standing too close over her to notice.  Whatever the reason, I didn't see it coming.

Staring down at a dazed Clare, I watched as a slow scowl came to her face and her eyes slowly moved up and found mine, burning with hate just as mine were.  Then, I saw her lift her leg up towards her body more on the couch and then, she snapped it forward, her foot kicking my leg back and hard into the coffee table. 

"Ah," I breathed, my mouth hanging open in a sharp gasp.  One for being completely off guard and another for just how much it hurt.  I tried to get through the pain that surged up and through my leg at feeling my skin break from the sharp corner she pushed my leg into.  It tingled slightly and though it wasn't that bad, because of the position, my leg snapping back, it hurt badly. 

She crossed a line then.  Of course, she crossed many in the past.  But it seemed different now.  And it was because she was using Jack against me and the fact that Luke was absent, making what she did possible.  I feel I had a right to slap her.  Then she decides to hurt me?  After she did that to Jack? 

I turned, bending over and pressing my palm down on the coffee table to support me.  It sounds like I'm being a baby but it really did hurt and it took a lot for me to keep in a massive groan or even a little scream.  Gritting my teeth, I glanced over at her and once again, there was that stupid fucking grin at seeing my misery. 

The red was coming over my vision, hazy, and it nearly took me over - which I wanted.  I wanted to be mad at her, to make her suffer.  I hated her.  Hated her!  I was about to punch her this time, no matter how bad of an idea that was, I was going to do it.  But it was too late for me to act on that.

"Oh my god, sweetie!  Are you okay?" she asked me immediately out of nowhere and I felt her stand up as well, right next to me to soothe me just after she did this to me!   Confused, I felt her rest a hand on my back and rub it, up and down, trying to make me feel better and get over the pain with support.  I knew why: her hubby was coming back in the room.  And oh, the balls she grew to dare go that far!

"Albany?" I heard his voice come back from down the hall at seeing me bent over and wincing.  Now that Luke was back, I didn't want to.  Just so you know, it was tempting to punch her because I could have.  I could and Luke wouldn't have blamed me.  But that would put him in another position he didn't like and that would be taking Clare's side - and strongly if I were to punch her.

Looking up into his confused eyes as he was now back into the living room, standing besides the couch, his eyebrows were low and he was confused about what just occurred.  Clare rubbed my back and she watched as I stood up straight again, forcing myself to try to get past the hurt.  It could have been worse.  She could have done to me what she did to Jack accept she knew better; I would have taken her ass with me.

It was risky what she just did.  All within seconds too, all because Luke was in the bathroom.  And though it wasn't his fault, knowing that if he just stayed put nothing would have happened.  That's a sad and pathetic fact.  That's how far Clare was going and it was surprising.  Yes, she's done so many worse things. But that was often when we were alone, before Luke was in the picture.  Now, he was only in the other room!  It was surprising because this was one of the first times she was violent like this with Luke just down the hall and able to come out any second.  Also because she hasn't been violent like that towards me for months. 

Shaking with so much anger, I turned towards her and faced her.  I was so disgusted by her.  I stared into her 'worried' eyes.  "You fucked up piece of trash," I scoffed.  I was too far beyond mad to just yell right now because it wouldn't solve anything.  "If you ever, ever, fucking touch my dog again, I can guarantee you I will make you my bitch.  You're already a fucking animal, it wouldn't take much more."

She didn't react, didn't say anything.   Glancing behind her, I saw Luke watched with confusion and curiosity.  "What happened?" he asked, glancing between me and Clare. 

"Albany accidently hit the side of the table and it cut into her skin," she said in a sad voice, looking down to where the blood was starting to stream down from the back of my leg.  Bending down, she inspected it closer, like any good mother would.  I only managed to stand there, scowling, and I just wanted to hit her.  Just hit this bitch.  Was that so much to ask for anymore?

With Clare looking at it, I looked up to Luke who now stood a couple feet away, watching.  He still didn't know what was going down.  But when I slowly and swiftly shook my head at him, I saw it click on his face and the wrinkles over his forehead vanished, confusion in his eyes gone and replaced with a growing hatred of his own.

"Well shit, are you okay?" Luke asked me, pretending as if he believed Clare.

"It stings," I noted.  "But I'll be fine," I hissed, nudging Clare away roughly from 'inspecting' my wound. 

Ignoring my clear 'ungraciousness,' Clare stood back up and looked me in the eyes.  And as she did, I noticed how red her cheek became where I slapped her.  I tried to hide my smile from it.  Because she made a mistake.  She said I accidently hit the side of the coffee table.  She didn't mention the slap that would have, in her case, 'came out of nowhere' because that was questionable.  For example, she could see Luke asking her, 'well why would Albany slap you?' because she must have done something first. 

She realized then she would most likely want to keep that red handprint on her cheek hidden because if he saw, she would look like a liar.  Seeing the tilt of my lips, she must have realized what it was I was grinning about.  And instantly, I saw fear fill her eyes.

"Um, Luke, take her upstairs and clean up her leg will you?" she asked him but didn't turn around to face him. 

"Sure."

"Great," she said and I knew she was anxious to be away from us.  She needed to be alone until that red handprint on her cheek would fade.  "You'll be okay honey," she said and facing him barely with her other cheek, she gave him a grateful smile as Luke started to come around the table and to my side. "Thanks sweetie," she said to him before he and I headed up the stairs and before she headed to the downstairs bathroom.

 When we got to the top of the stairs, I felt Luke start to guide me towards the bathroom where he would proceed to clean my wound since I couldn't reach it well.  I had other plans though at the second as I continued down towards my bedroom.

"Albany, what--?" he started to ask but by the time he followed me in the bedroom, he stopped.

Seeing Jack laying down in his cage and not on the bad wasn't a great sign.  My first thought was that he was hurt and couldn't jump up on the bed. My entire stomach filled with fear then and complete uneasiness over what she did to Jack.  But when I knelt down next to his cage and peered in, I realized he just was afraid and wanted to hide in the cage.  He was near the back of the cage, laying down and I could see he was shaking again. Poor dog.  First he went through gun shots, now she assaulted my dog.... I was getting mad now.  I loved Jack because to me, he was all I had really to take care of.  He didn't deserve this. I felt more than obligated to protect him.  I felt I loved him and I needed to take care of my little buddy.

"Hey," I said softly, reaching in the cage and wrapping my hands around Jack, pulling him out of the cage.  As I did, he stayed wrapped up in a ball and whined a little at the movement.  But not because he was hurt; he was scared.  Kneeling there, holding Jack, I saw him peak up at me with sad eyes.  "It's alright," I said, holding him in my lap and petting him, stroking his fur and gently rubbing his ears.  "I wont let her touch you again," I said, resting my head against him while I continued to pet him.  I could still feel he was shaking but at least it wasn't as bad.  I was honestly really worried about him.  Because Clare literally seemed to use most of her weight if not all when she threw him on the floor. He could have died, I thought with seeing him hit the floor... I was positive he would have if she smashed him against the coffee table, which he was very close to.

"What happened?" Luke asked from behind me.  Glancing over my shoulder to him, I looked up at him standing there, looking down at me as I tried to comfort Jack as best as I could.  Screw cleaning up my leg.  Jack was scared and I don't blame him.  Not to mention, just holding him and trying to make him feel better made me relieved too. 

Looking up into his jade eyes, they matched the tone of his voice when he spoke: stern and serious and I think he had a pretty good grasp on what happened since I was if here comforting Jack.  I scowled and shook my head up at him.  "T-That bitch," I said nodding towards the door where we came from.  "Jack was just trying to be friendly.  Then she grabs him!  And she throws him - throws him with all her muscle - to the floor.  I slapped her across the face and she kicked my knee in and it hit the edge of the coffee table." I said, voice shook up and I had to grit my teeth because I just wanted to scream. 

Luke didn't say anything for a moment.  He just stared down at me, his eyes growing alike with Jack's - sad and full of sorrow.  However, his held hate.  And it wasn't often I saw hate in his eyes.  Lately, it seemed to come up more at just the mention of his demented wife but not often. 

Turning back to Jack, I continued petting him, trying to soothe him as best as I could.  "You did nothing wrong, Jack," I said in a sweet voice to him.  "She is just a very bad person," I whispered. 

After a few more moments of petting him silently, Luke interrupted the still air and reminded me of something I completely forgot.  "I think Jack's going to be okay.  So do you want to go to the bathroom with me to patch you up?"

I nodded silently and moved Jack back to where he was in his cage and where he probably still wanted to stay hiding.  When he was feeling better, he could come out and hop up on my bed.  But he was still shook up.  And though yes this is just a dog, it was my dog and I was shook up with him.

Leaving the room, we silently made our way into the bathroom and Luke shut the door behind us.  Then as I stood there, I watched as he began to sift through a few things in the drawer.  Looking up at him as he grabbed some things from the drawer, I was starting to worry over him now.  He said nothing so far on what I told him happened while he was in the bathroom and I wanted to know what he was thinking.  I wanted to know a lot of things from him lately, like why he was acting so strange earlier too. 

With a damp rag in hand, he turned towards me a second later and grabbed my arm lightly, guiding me towards the sink and he had me stand there, placing my hands on the counter, and lift my one leg up that was bleeding.   Seeing him grab the Band-Aids and some cleaner, I watched as set them on the floor at my feet and then came to knee on the floor right behind me to get a better look at my knee and to patch it up. 

I felt the cool material of the wet rag touch the back of my leg and softly, he wiped up what was now a lot of blood running down my leg.  Wiping it up and then applying the cleaner to the cut, which made me hiss louder than I expected.  But that whole time he patched it up, he only muttered 'sorry' once after I hissed.  Because the rest of the time was just a cold silence.  And by the time he put the large Band-Aid over where the edge penetrated my skin, I needed to say something.  Because at this point, it was just becoming too much.

"Have I ever told you," I started, clearing my throat to speak clearer.  I wasn't that comfortable telling him what I did.  But I felt he needed to hear it and know for himself that I wouldn't be able to take much more of this.  "That... my dream as a kid was to kill her?" I asked, looking back up to the mirror I was facing and myself in it.  Hair messy in it's bun, skin pale as usual, and eyes depressing.  I also needed a shower.  Oh yeah.  Talk about sexy. 

I felt his hand on my knee freeze after he put the Band-Aid on my knee and feeling that frozen hand, I knew I caught him off guard.  Looking down at him kneeling behind me, I saw his face went blank and he slowly raised his eyes up to me, shinning in the soft glow of curiosity and at the same time sympathy, something I couldn't stand.

"How do you... mean?" He asked me, the eyebrows framing those beautiful green pools lowering around them in question. 

I scoffed, humorlessly.  "Well, it was my dream.  Some kids dream about growing up to be president, and astronaut, an artist... I grew up with the dream to kill my mother.  It was my life goal."

A silence existed for a couple moments as I stared down at him.  His eyes lost in what I could only decipher to be pain, he looked away and knelt back slightly, thinking over the words I just confessed to him.  I always wanted to in some way.  Him being a cop though, I wouldn't risk it. But after tonight, I didn't care because I thought he deserved to know just how badly I want to end her.  Just how badly I want to find this evidence because until we do, shit like this will keep happening.  And I was close to done putting up with it, knowing how close we could be.

"You know," he said a moment later, his voice heavy and thick with emotion.  "I've heard some pretty fucked up things before.  Between being a cop and hearing about the most gruesome crime to you telling me some things Clare did to you.  But this does it," he said, looking down and I noticed how pale he became. 

Getting to my point, and not liking that he was dwelling over it more than I wanted him to, I said, "I want this to end," I whispered, my voice quiet because lord knows we don't need her over hearing us.  "I want to finish this soon with her.  I want her gone.  Because I don't know how much longer I can... hold it together.  I feel as if I'm going to snap," I said in a whispering warning voice.  My heart was racing by the time I told him that and I just hoped he understood what I meant without having to say the actual words: I will kill Clare if I can't handle it anymore.

Since he was now done fixing me up, he stood back up and I came to turn around to face him in return.  Looking up into his tense eyes, I knew he didn't like that sounds of what I just told him.  But it was the truth and he needed to know I wasn't going to take her bullshit forever, especially in the position we are in now.

He shook his head slowly and in a low voice, he said, "I know you want to kill her.  I don't blame you.  But you need to understand this takes time--"

"I know it does," I interrupted.  "But I just want you to know... that if I do snap one day, you will know why.  And it's because I've wanted it my whole life."

He shook his head again.  "You just don't understand, do you?  Albany, you are the most strongest woman I've ever known before.  So if it's between us, I can tell you that I know you wont give in.  It would ruin your life if you did that and you know it.  You want your life that you are starting to gain and I know you wont throw it away like that," he said, pursing his lips.  He read right through me.  "You just said that because you are really mad right now.  And though it might have been your dream, you have a new one: getting through all of this shit and coming out and getting a better life."

I groaned, sighing softly before I said any more.  "I just..." I struggled.  "Am so sick of this.  I mean of course, I've gone through this my entire life so it's been worse.  But when we know there is evidence out there, I just want to find it that much more sooner.  I feel like this is going so slow and I just want her locked away.  And the most important thing in this whole thing hasn't been touched on: Emily.  That's our biggest evidence and we still are clueless on that part," I said and though I wanted to scream it all at him, I kept my voice just barely audible. "It's frustrating having shit like this happen when I actually for once know that there is a way out.  And I feel as if we aren't trying hard enough."

It was all true.  I was sick of days going by with me and Clare still living in the same house.  It bothered me because the evidence exists somewhere - a large part in the backyard. It's that close but we need more and there was only so much more I could handle knowing that there actually was hope - but hope that was just sitting there with nothing happening.

"I know," he nodded, understanding and I felt as if he felt the same in some form.  "I know.  And trust me, you have no idea how repulsed I am by her now.  I just want out of this mess like you do because the evidence is there; we just need to find it.  But it's not that easy.  We need a lot of evidence, a lot, and like you said, most can come from your sister.  It hit a dead end road though and I'm trying to find a way through because there has to be a way.  You don't know this but even though we don't discuss it everyday, but everyday at work, I take my lunch break and use it to go through all open options with doctors, looking through what I have access to... I'm trying, everyday," he reassured me and surprisingly it helped a lot. 

It was surprising to me, actually because I didn't know that.  We were both dedicated but I didn't feel as if we were going at the pace we need to.  But Luke was keeping up the search this whole time and I was more than thankful for that.

"You... are?" I asked.

"Yes," he nodded, smiling slightly to try to make me feel better.  "I'm not worried over her getting away.  I am positive we can bust her.  My concern is just keeping all this a secret from her.  Other than that, I think we are doing great.  You are doing great with the file I gave you."

I smiled up at him slightly and looked away before he could force a blush out of me.  I felt his gentle fingers though graze under my chin and pick my head up to look at him.  His smile made me feel better and so did his words. "Just breathe.  Deep breaths and you will be fine.  Because you are that strong.  Do you understand?"

I bit my lip as I nodded.  I felt much better, even if I was still thriving hot over what she did.  He gave me the confidence back I was starting to lose.  I guess I could always count on him for that, for making me feel better, no matter how embarrassing that is. 

Just as we went about to leave the bathroom, he stopped me behind him, just as he was about to open the door.  Turning back to look at me, he grimaced before he reluctantly told what would be one interesting experience.  "Oh and I also wanted to tell you that Clare made an appointment to see a therapist.  Weekly I think.  The first one is in a few days."

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First, what do you think Luke's issue was at the beginning of the chapter?  And how do you think she will do in therapy?  Didn't have much time to edit this one either.  I hope you like it anyway!