"No!! No no no no!!" His hands were shaking as he pressed them against her chest. Tears were clouding his vision so he couldn't see if he had placed them on the right spot, although it didn't matter much. He had no idea how to resuscitate someone. He tried to remember what he had seen in movies and started to put pressure on her chest, his hands flat on top of each other.
Nothing happened.
On his knees he moved a little, tilting her head and placing his lips over hers. He blew. This time he neither knew if he was doing it right. He couldn't think anymore, all he saw were her wide, dead eyes.
Was that a movement? He jumped up, oversaw her body. His hands found hers and he squeezed. "Please Lotte," he whispered. "Please come back. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Yeah – he was pissed.
He was furious.
But he didn't want her to die. Whatever horrible things she had done; there had been countless moments where she had been his only tower of strength. Without her he would have died months ago. And now, his rescue had led to her death.
No – she wasn't dead. He had seen her move. Felt her move. Hear her move.
He had no idea what he had truly experienced.
Sobbing, he caressed her cheek, her skin still felt warm. That was a good sign, right? Feeling encouraged, he pressed his lips against hers once more, breathing into her. Please. Please come back.
Juice had no idea how long he kept trying. Hours maybe. At some point his lips were swollen, his muscles stiff. Crying, he dropped down on the ground and clung to her body.
This was a nightmare, a hallucination. He had turned to alcohol again.
Lotte would never betray him and he would never kill her.
Not in the real world.
. . .
A door opened. His back hurt, his shoulder too. Dazed, Juice sat up straight and discovered that he had been lying in the hallway.
"Why – why are you sleeping here?" little Mikey asked.
Juice rubbed his neck. "Dunno kiddo. Guess I drank too much." He aimed his attention to the body that had been lying in his arms and wanted to wake her up. The moment he saw the welts and bruises on her neck and face, and the wide eyes staring accusingly at him, he shrunk backwards. His back hit the wall. Bile shot up into his gullet, he bent over and puked. Even before the heat had retreated from his face, he remembered everything.
Her betrayal.
His anger.
"Why does auntie Lotte look so strange? Is she sick?"
Juice aimed his face into the direction of the voice, but he couldn't see the kid. There was only a blur. It was hard to breath – experience told him that he was having a panic attack.
"Go to your room," he managed to say to Mikey. "NOW!" he snapped when the kid kept tarrying.
Quick footsteps sounded. The door was closed.
His legs collapsed. He dropped down, gasping for breathe he wrapped his arms around his knees. He imagined Dana's soothing eyes, her gentle voice.
The only eyes he saw were Lotte's; the only sound he heard her begging. With his fingernails he scratched his scalp, but the pain didn't distract him. He saw himself knelt down on the ground, felt his hands around her throat while he squeezed and squeezed as she tried to struggle away from him.
Kozik's voice echoed through his head. "You really don't see it, huh? Your coldness, your anger issues... you turn into the man you hate so much. Imagine Dana coming back now and seeing you like this. What will you be, her new Maddox?"
Sobbing, he cradled himself, pressing his hands against his ears to shut out the words. "She deserved it," he muttered. "My little girl is dead because of her. My little girl is dead because she called Maddox."
He however wasn't sure; her phone call might never have made a difference at all.
That doesn't matter! She was willing to jeopardize your daughter's life!
Whatever he told himself, it didn't help. All he could think of, were all the times she had comforted him; her sweet smiles, her tender embraces. And now she was dead. He had killed her single-handedly.
What should he do? Nobody could find her body, nobody could know what he had done. He however knew he couldn't do this alone; he had no idea where to take her. He thought of Dana, who had called Kozik after she had been forced to kill Opie. The man had never blamed her.
Would he also understand his situation?
If he was honest, he didn't care that much. He wouldn't refuse a bullet in the head. Not if Kozik promised to look after Mikey and keep searching for Dana. Still he lacked the courage to really end his life; especially because it had been Lotte who had helped him to get rid off his suicidal thoughts.
But if Kozik believed that he deserved to die... he wouldn't struggle.
With an enormous effort he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Kozik.
"Hey man. You alright?"
His heart ached as he heard his friendly voice. Would his friend hate him after today?
"No," he whispered. "I – I did something terrible and I don't know what to do and..." He took a deep breathe, trying to suppress the panic that was flaring up.
"You're home?"
"Ye-yeah," he muttered.
"I'll be right over. Stay where you are."
Juice lowered his hand with the phone. He stared at Lotte's lifeless body. It felt like he had blew all his life force into her the day before – he felt exhausted now. He couldn't get up, he couldn't even yell or cry. Instead, he curled up into a little ball. With trembling lips he stretched out his hand to hold hers, but she was too far away and he lacked the strength to move closer to her.
She was unreachable.
Forever.
He had killed someone.
He had killed her.
His own girlfriend. Someone he had loved.
Someone he still loved, despite her betrayal.