I've Got To Make You MINE - TamberWenclair

Chapter 30 - Welcome to Act 3

Tara rode in the car, eyes closed and ears keenly listening to her sister in the driver's seat. Sam seemed to be trying to keep herself strong, to not cry over the knowledge that Richie was dead.

"Dewey, Richie, Sidney, they're all dead." It was a weak whisper, and Tara cracked open an eye, glancing at Sam. She was still driving, one hand holding the wheel while the other hand was reaching up to wipe at her tears. Tara hummed softly, acknowledging Sam's words. Her wheelchair was in the trunk, her crutches in the back seat with her bag, which had her gun in it, she'd have to find a quick way to get it out later.

"Don't forget Wes and Judy." She thought, working hard to keep the smile from forming on her face. She heard her hearing aids release a soft beep, a warning that they were low on change. Damn, that was incredibly inconvenient, she would have to put them in charge after they finished the job.

"Wait, Ghostface got Dewey too?" The surprise in her voice was genuine, given that killing the ex-sheriff wasn't part of her plan at all. She grits her teeth, annoyed. She knew her lovers wouldn't go against the plan, unless it was accidental or because of some sort of emergency, so it was easy to account the murder to Richie.

"Yeah, he was found in his living room, stabbed and with a slit throat. It seemed like there wasn't a break-in, but he had to have gotten in somehow."

"Maybe he was let in?" Tara knew Richie was stupid, he had this silly Desire to make a new stab movie and raise the stakes by killing the previous stars. If he had started going after the legacy characters, she wondered if he knew about Judy before they'd gone after Wes. Either way, both Hicks had ended up dead, so she wasn't very bothered by it.

"He was let in?" Sam asked incredulously, glaring at the road as she drove, as if focusing her anger on an inanimate object would quell her grief.

"Bullshit!" Sam pounded a fist against the steering wheel, and Tara was unsure if it was from her anger or perhaps her feelings of grief.  She had seen countless crime scenes in her time working under her father, some completely pristine, others burnt or ruined with blood, She had seen witnesses and their various responses, and it was both fascinating and deeply annoying. The car swerved as Sam momentarily lost control in her short fit, another car coming towards them on the road.

"Eyes on the road Dumbass!" Tara kept the malice from her tone, funneling her anger into the terrified panic as she gripped the door handle. Sam honked her horn as she moved the car out of the way and the rest of the way down the road. The rest of the drive was calmer after that incident and they eventually pulled into the driveway of the old Carpenter home.

Sam shut the engine off and exited the front seat before she opened the back seat door and got Tara's crutches out. She carried them over to the passenger seat and opened Tara's door, leaning in towards her younger sister and unclipping the seat belt.

Tara initially flinched when Sam opened the door and leaned into the car,  her stomach twisted in revulsion when Sam reached out to touch her as if she was going to help her out.

"I can get out myself, you know." Tara wanted to spit it out, to shove Sam away and climb out herself. But the softly spoken words had done enough, they made Sam pause and her face redden. She frowned, her lips quirking down in a way that revealed the flush of her dimple. Tara clenched her free hand, sighing as she held it out and took her crutches from her sister.

"I'll open the door, you can get your stuff, right?" Sam asked it somewhat nervously, fidgeting with her keys.

Tara stood up from her seat and rolled her eyes, using her crutches as support while she walked, to the back passenger door of the car and opened it, grabbing her bag and throwing the straps over one of her shoulders, before she closed the door and adjusted her crutches so she could walk properly.