The Air He Breathes
Page 75“I still want to make it work.”
She snickered with sarcasm. “Is that why you kept leaving the Post-It notes? Was that your sign of wanting to make it work? Because it only confused me more. It only hurt me more.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Post-It notes. The ones you left every week on my bedroom window for the past five months with your initials. The same notes we used to write to each other.”
My eyes narrowed. “Lizzie, I didn’t leave you any messages.”
“Stop with the mind games.”
“No, seriously. I haven’t been back to town until today.”
She looked at me as if she hadn’t a clue who I was. I stepped near her, and she moved back. “Stop. Just—I don’t want to play anymore, Tristan. I don’t want to play your games anymore. Maybe if you had shown up two months ago, I would’ve forgiven you. Or maybe one month ago, but not today. Stop with the notes, and stop playing with my heart, with my daughter’s heart.” She turned and left the store, leaving me extremely confused. When I stepped outside, she was already walking back into the café across the street.
My stomach was in knots as I walked back into Needful Things. When the bell above the door rang, my body whipped around, hoping to see Elizabeth staring my way. Instead, I turned and saw Tanner standing in my doorway. “What are you doing back here?” he asked, urgency in his voice.
“No, no, no. You can’t be here. You can’t be back here.” He started pacing back and forth, rubbing his hands against the back of his neck. “You’re going to ruin everything. She was coming back to me. She was warming up to me again.”
“What?” The look on his face made my stomach turn. “What did you do?”
He huffed. “It’s really kind of ridiculous. I mean, you storm off, leaving her for months and months, and the second you come back, she’s already falling all over you. Kissing you as if you’re her fucking Prince Charming. Well, hell, congratulations.” He rolled his eyes and turned to leave. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered to himself as I followed him out of the store and across the street to his auto shop.
“Have you been leaving notes at Elizabeth’s house?”
“What, I’m sorry, were you the only one allowed to do that?”
“You signed my initials.”
“Come on, Sherlock. You can’t really think that you are the only one with T and C as their initials.” He went to one of the cars, opened the hood, and started tinkering with things.
“But you knew she would think they were from me. How did you even know that we gave each other notes?”
I charged toward him, gripping his shirt and slamming him against the car. “Are you fucking psycho? What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“What’s wrong with me?!” he shouted. “What’s wrong with me?! I won the coin toss!” he hissed. “And he took her from me! I called heads, he called tails, and the coin said heads! But he thought he could just take her and make her love him. He messed up our lives. She was mine. And he mocked me over and over again about it for years. Asking me to be his best man. Begging for me to be the godfather to their kid. Years and years of throwing it in my face when Elizabeth should’ve been mine. So I handled it.”
“What?” I said, loosening my grip on his shirt. His eyes were wide, crazed, and he couldn’t stop smiling. “Handled what?”
“He said his car was acting up. He asked me to check under the hood because he and Emma were going on a trip out of town for the day. I knew him coming to me that day was a sign—he wanted me to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Cut the brake cord under his hood. He was giving Elizabeth back to me. Because I won the coin toss. And everything went great, except when he took the car onto the freeway, Emma wasn’t in the backseat. She was home sick.”
I couldn’t comprehend his words. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. “You tried to kill them? You rigged his car?”
“I WON THE COIN TOSS!” he cried, as if he were actually making sense.
He released a breath of air. “I’m a lunatic? You’re sitting here in love with a woman whose husband killed your family!”
“He didn’t kill them. You did. You killed my family.”
He waved his finger back and forth. “No, Steven was behind the wheel driving the car. He was the one driving. I was just the mere mechanic under the hood.”
I slammed him against the car over and over again. “This isn’t some kind of game, Tanner. These are people’s lives you’re playing with!”
“Life is a game, Tristan. And I advise you to back off. Because I won her. It’s now time for me to collect my prize, and the last thing I need is someone else to get in my way.”
“You’re sick,” I said, walking away from him. “And if you come anywhere near Elizabeth I will kill you myself.”
Tanner laughed again. “Come on, buddy. You would kill me? When it comes to killing, I’m pretty sure I have you beat three times over. Four if you count later tonight.”