The Deceased

Chapter Eighteen-Thief in my house

"Murderer!"

Jane jumps up and lunges towards Lynx, but that's exactly what I knew she would do. Lynx, who doesn't look nearly as shocked as he should be, barely bat a long eyelash before I have Jane held back by the shoulders. Off-guard, she tries to break free, only managing in letting me wrap my hands further around her arms. That's it for her break down. She couldn't break free if she tried.

"Let me go," she cries. "I should have known he did it."

"If you listened..." Lynx stands slowly, not phased. "I said I was there. I witnessed his murder, but I said nothing about committing it."

"I don't care," she says, still struggling against my grip. "You let it happen. You could have saved him. Maybe I'll take you into the forest and choke the life out of you while your brother watches."

Lynx looks at me.

He wants her to calm down, and, much like I do, wishes to have a rational discussion. We are, after all, the reason he is telling us this. Why not stick it out to the end instead of making assumptions? I look down towards her, clacking her heels against the tiles, shaking her head, tiring. I wanted her to calm down as much as he did, but there's no way she was going to with him standing there, looking as if he just got away with it.

"Give us a minute," I tell him.

As if expected, he turns , the darkness of his clothing washing over him like a cloud. Then, he walks towards the stairs, probably going to check on his brother I imagine.

"Jane," I turn back to her. Her body goes still, and my arms limply fall to my side. She drops depressingly down back into her seat, staring at the piano.

"I'm right here. Look at me."

Her eyes slowly pivot to me, red clouding the edge.

"I understand. I do, okay? I lost him too."

She responds with a curt, and reluctant nod, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She didn't mean it, but Jane can't control her emotions. Not as good as Lynx can apparently. "Okay."

Taking a seat next to her, i cross one leg over the other - something that has become a habit every time I sit down. Jane's shouting had restarted the throbbing in my head, so standing wasn't really a good option. What I really felt like was that glass of water I left in the guest room. I wish I asked Rex for that when I had the chance. Going back up there and getting it seems out of place.

"We came here, you said, to get answers," I start, watching her eyes sparkle with the threat of more tears. "He is willing to tell us more. He wants to explain what he just said. Could he have said it differently? Sure. But there's a story behind it, and if we don't let him explain his side..." I hesitate. "There's just no ultimatum. Unless you want to go to this Vlad guy and ask him yourself?"

Jane gives a sniffle of shock, showing me as she shakes her head, changing the subject. "How are your arms so strong?"

I give a shrug. It's never been something I've thought about. It's not worth thinking about. What I do know is if Jane had agreed to the self-defense classes I suggested they'd be a lot stronger. No, what was important to me at that moment was talking to Lynx, getting home, and jumping in the shower.

"It's all those guys you fight off," she jokes, showing teeth for the first time since her outburst.

"Probably," I joke back, squeezing my lips together and giving a sarcastic nod. "If Lynx were to come back, would there be a rational discussion?"