Always, Forever

Chapter 4

Determination stretched across her face, she pulled up outside of the small home, parking next to the curb. Although only twenty-one years of age, he moved into the house after graduating high school since his late grandfather bequeathed it to him in his will. Fingers clenching around the steering wheel, she stared toward the front door while hoping that he was home after earlier events.

Detecting a loud banging sound which stemmed from the detached garage, she had her answer unless that happened to be someone else. There was only one way to find out for sure.

Key pulled from the ignition, she tossed them on the passenger seat next to the gun. Following a deep breath, she grabbed the gun, leaning forward to tuck it into the waistband of her pants. Willing the tears away, she looked into the backseat, silently observing her lover, spouse, and soulmate. Except for the blood staining her clothing, Christine otherwise appeared to just be asleep.

Reaching toward her, Lucille touched the nearest hand resting upon her stomach, noting that her skin had already begun to cool. She grasped that hand while closing her eyes in order to pray. "Lord, please forgive me for what I'm about to do. I know it's a sin, but I'm so very lost without her. I can't...I don't know what else to do. My world won't function without Christine McCoy. Please forgive me, and I pray that I will be blessed enough to be reunited with Chris. I'm so sorry."

Squeezing the limp hand, Lucille placed it back on Christine's stomach. Door opened, she carefully stood with the weapon concealed in the back of her waistband, shirt pulled over to cover it. Shutting the door, she walked along the driveway, soon stopping before the garage. Instead of knocking to alert him that he had a visitor, she spotted a short and slightly frayed rope attached to the door. Robe grabbed, Lucille started tugging in an upward motion, releasing it once the garage door was open enough that she could walk through.

Teeth clenched the moment she spotted him seated near the front left tire of his car with a bottle of liquor in hand. He appeared unsurprised yet nervous to see the young woman, whom he attempted to run over less than an hour prior. Neither of them yet choosing to speak, Wayne lifted the close to full bottle to his lips, taking tiny sips while Lucille walked forward, observing his car and noting the tell-tale dents. Not that she required it as she saw his face, but there was further evidence that it had indeed been him barreling along that street.

Remaining seated on a wooden stool, Wayne took another sip, wincing when the alcohol burned his throat along its journey downward. Eyes on his visitor, he leaned over enough in order to put the bottle on the cement floor. "Is she okay?" he hesitantly inquired, although he swiftly noticed Lucille's melancholy expression. The anguish in her eyes granted him the answer.

Swallowing around a sudden lump, Wayne wanted to take another sip, but he didn't reach for the alcohol. In fact, even if it would only numb what he had done just temporarily, he wanted to consume the entire bottle.

Lucille slowly shook her head. "No. No, Wayne, she is far from being okay."

Pulling in a shaky breath, Wayne could practically feel his heart breaking while tears stung his eyes. Hands gripping his knees, he stared toward Lucille. "I'm sorry. So sorry."

"Oh, I know you are," she quickly responded. "You were aiming for me and Chris jumped in, taking my place."

"I shouldn't have done it...I shouldn't have planned that in the first place."

"I concur."

He glanced behind her, scanning the driveway. "Did you bring the police with you?"

"No." Arm bent behind her, Lucille tugged the gun from her waistband. Instead of pointing it at him, she allowed the weapon to hang by her side while observing when Wayne's eyes widened. "Only brought this." She wiggled it for good measure although she already had his attention.