AN: Thank you everyone for the reviews last chapter, they were love as always.
Sorry for the delay with this one, but I had a bit of a difficult time with it.
To CatieLardin for being my 200th review, love yah babe!
As always, all I own is Lucy.
Chapter 28: Beauty from Pain
The lights go out all around me
One last candle to keep out the night
And then the darkness surrounds me
I know I'm alive, but I feel like I've died
And all that's left is to accept that it's over
My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made
I try to keep warm, but I just grow colder
I feel like I'm slipping away
The following morning came quickly, the sun streaking through my window being what ultimately woke me up.
I sat up, my eyes flickering around the room as I tried to make sense of everything that was going on. It still didn't feel real to me. It still felt like this was some horrible joke, or an awful nightmare that I refused to wake up from.
But deep down I knew it wasn't any of those things.
My brother was gone and he was never coming back.
Though the sun's rays cast a beautiful light inside of me room I couldn't feel any of it. I showered quickly, not knowing when we were leaving exactly. As I sifted through my closet for something to wear my hands immediately grabbed the first black shirt and pants I saw.
I had endured enough death in my life to know what to do without being told. When I was younger it wasn't really required, but now that I was older it would be expected.
I never understood why people had to wear black when someone died. Was it supposed to represent the guilt and anguish that we felt? My guess was yes.
Slipping on my clothes I threw some more things into my suitcase before I was all ready for all that was awaiting me downstairs. Rolling it down the hall I thought back to the night before, but it wasn't about the phone call delivering the news about my brother.
No, I thought about Jasper and everything he did for me yesterday.
After everything he had been through, after everything he had already done for me, he still helped me last night.
I knew I wasn't in the right frame of mind, but yet he stuck around because I merely asked him.
All I could think about was the way he looked at me before he left. It was a mixture of anger and pain. I wondered if he saw himself when he looked at me. I'm pretty positive I looked horrible, the grief hitting me non-stop.
Yet he still stayed.
But, that really didn't matter this morning.
No, the second I stepped down the stairs and saw my parents sitting on the couch side by side, I knew I had a job to do.
Though I was in no way prepared for what was to come I put on a brave façade and walked over to them, sliding in between them and taking their hands in mine. My mother squeezed my hand tightly as she rested her head against my shoulder while my father continued staring straight ahead of him.
As much as I didn't like being in such close proximity to them, I knew that I had to push all that to the back of my mind.
My family needed me and that was that.
"We have a plane to catch," my father stood just as the doorbell rang "do you have everything Lucinda?"
I nodded, but wasn't really sure what it would be that I would need. My mother had packed everything so I'm sure I would be fine.
Someone that my parents knew from the church had come this morning to give us a ride to the airport. I had seen him a few times before, but I was by no means comfortable enough to be that close to him.
So when he came to offer condolences I merely nodded and gave him a quiet thank you. I knew it wasn't proper of me, but I didn't really care. I didn't really know him and there was no way I was going to allow him to hug me, even if he was just trying to be kind.
As my parents helped put all our things in the car something suddenly dawned on me, something I'm sure my parents hadn't even thought about. Practically running back upstairs I sifted through my closet until I found an old photo album. I stuffed it in my bad knowing that there was a picture of Carlos in there with every member of our family.
It wasn't something I looked at often because it always hurt too much, but I knew I would be able to do something with these pictures for the funeral.
Funeral, God even that word seemed surreal. I could say it as many times as I wanted to in my mind, but it wasn't hitting me like I thought it would
That terrified me because I knew it was going to hit me when I least expected it.
Oh well that would just have to be something I would have to deal with when the time came. Again, I didn't really have much time to think about myself when I had much more important things to take care of.
I was back in the living room just as my parents walked in to grab the rest of their things. As soon as we had everything I walked outside with my mother, turning my head slightly to watch as dad shut and locked the door slowly before turning to us and getting into the car.
The ride to the airport took a little over an hour and even though I was still exhausted I couldn't find the will to fall asleep.
In all honesty I was pretty petrified of falling asleep. I knew I'd have nightmares if I closed my eyes and that wasn't something I was ready to handle.
Then again was I fully prepared to handle any of this?
It seemed like a lot was being put on my shoulders and I just hope that I wouldn't let anyone down.
If just this once I could be strong, then I could deal with the aftermath on my own time.
It was the least I could do for my parents.
I couldn't bring Carlos back, but at least I could just be there for them and help as much as possible.
Arriving back home wasn't what I expected at all. For some reason, in the realm of my childish fantasies, coming back home would bring a smile to my face.
Maybe it would have if we got off the plane Carlos would've been there greeting us rather than my aunt and two police officers. As soon as we came into sight the officers approached my parents and, after a brief mention of condolences, started firing questions at them as we gathered our suitcases and headed out to the awaiting car.
I walked behind them with my aunt, her arm looped through mine. It would've seemed like she was comforting me, but really it was the other way around. My Tia Carmen was strong, but death? Death brings out the weaknesses in people it seems.
I knew she was thinking about her daughter, Anna, and how yet again our family had lost someone way before their time.
Driving the short distance from the airport to our home was spent in relative silence. No one really knew what to say to each other. What could they say? Words wouldn't bring back my brother.
Nothing would bring back my brother.
Since we no longer had a home here we would be staying with my aunt and uncle for the next two days.
Stepping out the warm weather did little to soothe the sight that greeted me.
This is where it happened. This is where my brother's life had been so viciously taken away.
"Go Lucinda," my father gently pushed me when I froze in the front of the house. I didn't answer him I just merely continued my trek back into the house where I was greeted by more mourning family members.
While my parents were immediately ambushed by our family, I was able to slowly slip to the back of the house and down the hall.
I peered into each room until I found the room that my brother had been staying in over the past year or so. I knew it was his the second I walked in.
It was seemingly untouched, his things scattered about in typical Carlos fashion. Though by no means the tidiest person, my brother did have his little quirks that never went unnoticed by me.
Pushing the door open and shutting it softly behind me I let my eyes scan over the room, taking in as much as I could.
Though we no longer living in the same house nothing had changed.
I slowly made my way over towards his bed, throwing my bag down before gently sitting on the edge.
The second I did a weak sob escaped my lips and I couldn't fight the urge to lean down and lay my head on his pillow.
"Oh god," I clutched the pillow tighter, the faint scent of his cologne invading my senses.
It was starting to hit me, the fact that he was no longer here with me anymore.
While part of me understood this, another part refused to believe for a second that my brother was dead.
There was no sharp sense of guilt or grief in my heart, so how could he be dead?
He's dead Lucinda. The quicker you realize it the better off you'll be.
I didn't believe that for a second. I was already beginning to slowly crumble.
What more did I have to lose?
Someone, and I'm pretty certain I know who, had taken the most important person in my life away from me.
Without my brother in my life nothing else really mattered to me anymore.
"Lucinda," I barely glanced up as the bedroom door opened and my parents walked in. My mother immediately came to sit on the bed and buried her head in her hands after a few seconds while my father just walked around the bedroom, gingerly running his hands over some of Carlos' things.
"Mija," my father looked at me, his eyes tired and broken "your mother and I have something to ask you."
I sat up, already having a sinking feeling as to what they were going to ask me.
"Tomorrow is the rosary, but your mother and I would appreciate it if you could write up a little something…"
"No," I stood quickly and shook my head "there's no way I can get up and speak in front of all those people. You guys know that." I was willing to do a lot of my parents right now, but this wasn't one of them.
I wasn't capable of handling something like that. "I can write something if someone else agrees to read it. I just can't get up there."
They surprisingly agreed and I was thankful beyond words.
The three of us sat in the room for what felt like forever, none of us saying anything.
There was nothing to say though. We knew the reality of the situation, there was no need to say it out loud.
Saying that my brother had been killed wasn't going to bring us any peace of mind and it sure as hell wasn't going to bring him back to us.
As much as I tried not to think about it all I saw when I closed my eyes was a million scenarios of what I thought happened to him. I didn't know which was worse. Me not being her to see it, or me being so far away when it happened.
Though I'm sure he wasn't alone in those final moments, a part of me felt extremely guilty over the whole thing.
Had I been stronger when everything happened, had I had enough courage to tell my parents the truth, then maybe we all would've been here together.
It may not have prevented Carlos' death, but at least we would've seen him one last time.
Resting my head on his pillow I felt fatigue plaguing my body once again, the desire to sleep this all away growing greater by the second.
Even though I knew when I woke up again everything would be the same, part of me wanted to believe otherwise.
Until I saw him for myself, I truly don't believe I was going to accept the fact that he was dead.
And even then there was no real guarantee that it would actually hit me.
Softly running my fingertips over the rosary bracelet Jasper gave me, I slowly slid my eyes closed and prayed for the strength to make it through these next two days.
I needed it not for me, but rather for my family.
I could already see it in their eyes. They were falling apart slowly and it was up to me to keep my parents together.
I just had to. It's what Carlos would've wanted.
And that would be my final gift to my brother.
Having failed him, this was the least I could do.
It wouldn't erase the past, but it was going to at least soften the amount of pain that would undoubtedly plague our hearts down for a long time to come.
All we had now was the future and the hope to make it through all of this.
I had a strong feeling that I wouldn't.
When Lucy called me this morning, at seven fucking in the morning, I wasn't exactly the happiest person.
But when I heard her, her voice soft and tired, that all went to the back of my mind as my attention solely became fixated on what she needed.
She was leaving LA at nine and would need someone to come pick her up when she landed. When I foolishly asked her about her parents she quietly informed me that it would just be her coming, her parents not wanting her to miss her finals.
Which that was a bit fucked up in my opinion. I was fairly certain that the school would allow Lucy to make up her finals. I mean her brother had just died for Christ's sakes!
It was Monday now and our finals started the following day, but I had a feeling that Lucy wasn't going to be in the right frame of mind at all to take any kind of exam.
If she ended up failing, it was going to be all on her parents.
But I knew Lucy would blame herself is she did poorly in school, feeding me some bullshit about how it was her responsibility to be strong and take care of things.
Well fuck that, now was not the time for her to be strong for everyone else. No, she needed to work on keeping herself sane instead of letting a million thoughts run through her head.
Whatever the reasoning I didn't say anything, but rather agreed to pick her up at one thirty when her flight arrived.
Knowing there was no way I was going to get back to sleep now I forced myself to get out of bed and take a quick shower, hoping that the hot water would clear my mind.
I knew I had to be the strong one when I picked up Lucy, but I wasn't sure if I could do it.
Death and I weren't exactly the best of friends. I couldn't handle that shit. It was too hard for me. Even the mere mention of it took me back to the night my mother died and everything that transpired after that.
The shower didn't help, the knots still very much present in my stomach as I dressed and ultimately headed downstairs.
I was surprised to find Esme still home, sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading a book.
When she saw me her eyes widened and she immediately stood up. "What's wrong sweetie?"
Ever since Friday when she found out what happened, she was on nerves end about everything.
When Carlisle told her about the shot he had to give Lucy and how I sat and eventually stayed with her, she was both shocked and proud by my actions.
"Lucy called me," I sunk into the chair and she came closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Her parents are sending her home today, a day after the fucking funeral. Who the hell does that?"
I glanced up and watched a look of disapproval flash across her eyes before she calmed down.
"That's between them honey, there's nothing we can do about the choices they make."
"But it's fucked up." I just couldn't get past that. "How can they do that to her, do they honestly think she's in the right frame of mind to be dealing with school."
"Jasper, sweetie" she sat back down and looked over at me "you need to calm down. Lucy's probably going to need you today more than ever. It won't be to her benefit if you're all wound up about her parents. You just have to focus on her and trying to help her."
Well the focusing on only her wouldn't be that hard. I almost always thought about Lucy, especially over these past couple days. I would think about her at night when it was dead silent in the bedroom, wondering what she was doing at that very moment and if she was okay.
Of course I knew she wasn't okay, but I desperately wanted to believe that she was dealing with all of this with that hidden strength I knew she possessed.
More than anything, however, I wanted to know what she was going through the second she went back home. Would it bring back all those memories she had been keeping secret for four years, or would she not even be thinking about it?
How could she not? I mean for fuck's sake her brother was killed by someone, maybe even by the same person who raped her.
That latter thought plagued my mind the rest of the day, even as I drove the hour drive to the airport.
The mere thought of her having to see that bastard again was enough to fuel the anger in my veins, almost to the point where I physically wanted to hurt someone or break something.
I wouldn't do that though. I just couldn't do that to Lucy.
She may have some strength in her, but she's pretty fucking fragile because of everything she's had to endure.
And I had a feeling that her brother's death was only going to bring her down even further.
It didn't take long for my assumptions to become a reality.
As soon as I saw her come into view, I felt that damn tightening in chest all over again.
"Fuck," I murmured lowly when she finally looked up and met my gaze.
With a sweater slung over her arm she was dressed in a simple sleeveless dress.
I would've found her fucking sexy, if it weren't for the look of complete anguish written all over her face.
"Hi," she pushed some of her behind her ears and hesitantly waited for me to say something.
Words completely failed me at that very moment. So instead I gave her a short nod, the two of us walking over to the baggage claim to pick up her things.
She didn't say a word as we walked to the car, but everything I wanted to know was right there in front of me.
She was torn down and completely void of any energy. It was clear to see that whatever had happened over the past two days was finally taking its' toll on her.
She probably wouldn't admit it, but I just knew that she had been pushing herself while away. She wanted to make sure everyone else was okay before even taking a glance at herself.
Which, by the looks of things, I knew she wasn't even worried about herself.
That, for some reason, led me to conclusion that I would have to be the one to worry about her.
Once we reached the car I opened the door for her, throwing her suitcase in the back before watching her slowly sink into the passenger seat. She mumbled something before I closed the door, quickly rounding the car to get inside.
Her head was tilted sideways, resting it against the window with her eyes closed.
Her breathing was slow and steady, but that didn't exactly ease my nerves as I took one more glance at her, turning the car on and pulling away from the curb.
The drive back was completely silent. I couldn't bring myself to turn on the radio for fear of it bothering Lucy. She looked like she was sleeping, but I knew she wasn't.
Every now and then her eyes would open, taking in her surroundings before closing them again.
I watched her every time she did it.
There were so many things I wanted to ask her, wanted to tell her but I couldn't bring myself to ask her a damn thing.
For all I knew she was on the verge of a breakdown and I didn't really feel like being the one who pushed her over the edge. I couldn't fucking do that to her.
Then again, maybe she needed it. From the looks of things it would seem as though she hadn't allowed herself any time to grieve on her own.
I knew some people dealt with death differently, but given the fact that they were so close to each other I was expecting her to be more openly and visibly upset over all of this.
She was trying to stop her emotions, but that shit was going to catch up with her real fast.
By the time we got back into town my head was practically spinning from all the thoughts going through my mind.
We drove through the relatively quiet streets, me about to turn on her street when she jolted up in her seat.
"No please," She glanced at me, eyes widened and panicked.
Thank God we were at a stop sign or else I would've probably crashed by her sudden look of fear.
"Don't take me home." she whispered "I just…I just can't be there alone right now." she looked away from me, her gaze now fixated on her folded hands.
"I can take you to…well, I can take you to the house?" It was the only other place we could go to.
"Ok." She agreed quickly, almost too quickly. That's when I knew something was really off. Something I couldn't put my finger on. Of course she had been who said she didn't want to go to her house, but I didn't think she would so quickly agree to go someplace else.
I changed course and ended up in the driveway fifteen minutes later, getting out quickly and opening the door for her.
She timidly stepped out and followed me as we entered the house. I was glad that Carlisle was still working and that Edward wasn't home. That only left me to deal with Esme, but I knew she wouldn't pry what so ever.
Making our way into the living room, we came face to face with Esme who was in the process of arranging flowers on the table. When she saw us, well more so Lucy, her facial expression immediately changed.
It was natural reaction for her to go into this motherly stance. She was extremely fond of Lucy and she cared about her a lot. So I'm sure seeing her so upset was very difficult.
For an instant she looked like she was about to run up to her and just embrace her tightly, but when she gave me a questioning look I just shook my head.
As much as Lucy liked Esme, now just wasn't the time for hugs. Lucy was liable to get even more upset if she even so much as looked at her the wrong way.
"Come on Lucy." I nodded towards the stairs and she hesitantly nodded after a moment.
"Do you want me to make you something to eat Lucy?" Esme couldn't help herself and quickly asked as we began walking. Lucy turned and looked at her and shook her head and mumbled a quick 'no thank you.'
"Later then sweetie?" I could tell she was really trying not to press, but now that she knew how Lucy got when she didn't eat she wasn't about to have her passing out in her house.
I didn't want Lucy getting sick either, but I knew the more we pushed her the further she was going to shy away from us.
"Later Esme," I answered for her and motioned for Lucy to keep walking.
I glanced back, offering Esme some sort of reassurance that I would keep an eye on Lucy and made sure she didn't get sick. No words were spoken, but she seemed to understand what I was trying to tell her.
By the time we reached my room, I realized she had never been up here before. I opened the door for her and let her walk in first.
She took a few minutes to take in the room as she stood in the middle of everything. I caught her eyes glancing over towards the bookshelf that held books, music and other random things. Mostly, however, her eyes focused on the painting that was there.
The one she had given me.
"You still have it." She sighed.
"Well of course I still have it. Not like I'm going to stash it away in my closet."
She just nodded as she sat on the edge of my bed and slipped her shoes off "Are you sure it's okay that I'm in here?"
"Of course it's fine Lucy. Don't worry about anyone out there. They're not going to bother you."
"I just…I don't want to be alone. Especially at home, I can't right now." She stood up and, without saying another word, walked over to the side of the bed and slowly lay down. She made sure to fix her dress, tugging on the hem so it wasn't revealing too much.
After staring at her for two seconds too long I decided to take the next step.
I approached the bed cautiously, kneeling down on the side she was on so I could look at her. She looked so damn tired that it was almost too much to handle.
I didn't want her to be like this, but I knew that she was probably having a really hard time. I needed to do something. Seeing her like this was bringing up far too many memories again and, somehow, I felt the need to protect her.
Even if that meant protecting her from herself.
"Lucy, can I….will you…" I looked down and away from her "Will you just let me fucking do something?" I glanced back up at and she was staring at me confused.
I thought about it for a few moments. "Move over." I stood up and waited for her to move until she was almost in the middle of the bed.
I got on the bed and lay down beside her, leaving some room between us and waited.
"I'm here if you need me." I left it all up to her, there was no other way around it.
I didn't expect her to do anything to be honest. So I was caught off guard when I felt her scoot closer to me, slowly until I finally felt her barely touching me.
Even though she had come to me, I still wasn't lifting a hand yet. I didn't want to scare her off or anything.
But, when I felt her resting her head on me gently and her tiny frame beginning to shake slightly against me I knew that something was definitely wrong. Her arms were wrapped around herself as she continued to shake.
It wasn't a violent shake. No, it was more of a…well it was more of a fucking twitch. Almost like her body was doing whatever it felt like and she wasn't trying to stop it.
I honestly didn't know what the hell I should do. If I touched her she might fucking flip. If I didn't she would just spend the rest of the day in this state.
I couldn't let either one happen.
"Please…" She whispered, her tiny voice pulling me from my thoughts. "Please, make it stop."
I turned again so that I was completely facing her on my side and reached over so that my hand was barely on top of her slightly shaking one and whispered the words that I used to say to my mom on almost a daily basis.
"Everything's going to be okay, Lucy." I tried to make words sound as convincing as possible, but just like they did back then, those words meant nothing. They meant nothing because I was fucking lying to her.
I was lying to her, just like how I lied to my mom. What was I supposed to do though? She needed some sort of reassurance, even if it was a fucking lie.
With my hand on top of hers I gently rubbed tiny circles over hers with my thumb. Such a simple movement, but it seemed to be working.
Though still shaking she began to calm down, her eyelids beginning to droop heavily with each passing second.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't stronger." She mumbled, curling her knees tighter to her chest. "Please forgive me."
I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about, but I didn't try to figure it out. She could've very well been sleep deprived and I didn't want to upset her more.
I lay there, as still as I possibly could, and just watched her. Though we weren't that close the proximity to each other was enough to calm the both of us down.
She was out less than ten minutes later, her hair flowing over her face as she buried her face deeper against the pillow.
When I knew she was out cold I reluctantly pulled my hand away from her, stood up and walked over to the closet and grabbed an extra blanket before bringing it back over to her.
I covered her, taking an extra second to glance at those legs of hers. As much as I hated myself for thinking it, I was coming to see that her legs were becoming my weakness on so many damn levels.
Knowing that she was safe and sound on the bed I quietly ventured back downstairs so that I could talk to Esme, the thoughts running even faster now.
She understood right away what I was trying to tell her and she attempted to calm me down somewhat.
"If she wants to talk about what happened while she was gone then just let her Jasper, but don't force her to. Just give her whatever she needs right now. Which, I'm sure that's just to get some rest sweetie. She's probably going through some intense grief right now."
"That's just it Esme, she's barely saying anything. And then she starts fucking shaking out of nowhere. I didn't know what to do. I mean, shit, I tried to calm her down as best I could but it's like she's not even all there. There's nothing in her eyes."
The grabbed her attention real quick. "It hasn't hit her yet." She concluded a few minutes later.
"The fact that her brother is dead honey, it hasn't hit her yet. If anything I think she's in denial over everything. I'm sure the funeral and everything else was nothing more than a surreal dream to her. Even now, I doubt she's fully aware of everything."
I didn't like the way Esme was describing what Lucy was probably going through. It wasn't that I thought she was lying though. No, it was the opposite. I knew she was telling me the truth, trying to prepare me in some way.
"Do you think it's going to be bad when it finally hits her?" I asked, but already knew the answer. Of course it was going to fucking bad. How could it not? Lucy was so damn close to her brother that it seemed as though a piece of her had died when he did.
"Fuck, what do I do for her?"
She could only give me a sad smile. "Just be there for her. There's nothing much else you can do during times like these. People grieve differently and I have a feeling that when Lucy eventually comes to terms that her brother's gone the poor girl is going to break completely."
Well, fuck, I couldn't let that happen. Not if there was anything I could do to prevent it.
Before I could ask her my next question a loud scream made its' way downstairs from the bedroom.
Esme looked alarmed right away, shaking her head in understanding. "Do you need me to help you?"
I thought about it for a second, but decided against it.
"She trusts you Jasper, now go to her." She cringed when we heard another scream.
I took the stairs two at a time, swinging the door open just as I saw Lucy dropping to her knees at the foot of the bed and burying her head in her hands as sobs began to rack her tiny frame.
Shit, was this the moment where she was realizing everything?
I kneeled in front of her, gently trying to pry her hands away from her face, images of that afternoon she cut herself replaying in my mind as I found us in almost the exact same position.
"Lucy look at me," She dropped her hands, my heart clenching when I saw the thick tears rolling down her cheeks. "What the hell happened? I thought you were sleeping?"
She shook her head, dropping her hands and twisting them in her lap.
"I…I thought you had left me." She choked out, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she admitted. "I know it's stupid, but I just couldn't handle being alone. Not right now, now after I saw…" She trailed off, looking away from me as another thought seemed to hit her.
So that's why she was screaming? Because I had left her and not because she was coming to see that her brother was really dead? Shit, I should've just stayed with her.
"After you saw what?" I reverted back to her last abrupt statement, wanting to know just what in the world she was talking about.
She shook her head, attempting to play it off. "It's nothing Jasper."
That was the wrong answer. "Bullshit," I told her, internally cringing when I saw her wince. "Please Lucy I'm not mad at you. I'm just trying to help you."
I know Esme said to be patient and let her come to me, but patience wasn't my strong suit and I knew Lucy had the tendency to try and downplay things.
I knew something had happened at the funeral. Something she didn't want to tell me. It was all over her face, the fear of whatever the hell had happened.
And I had a feeling it went way beyond her brother or even seeing her family again.
"Lucy," I brushed some of her hair back, my hand resting on her cheek. "Tell me."
She swallowed nervously, trapping her lower lip between her teeth and just stared at me like a deer in headlights for a good minute or so.
"I saw him." Her words were low and rushed, but I heard them loud and clear.
"Saw who?" Though I already had a sinking assumption, I hoped I was wrong this time.
But when fresh tears began to well in her eyes I knew I was right.
"Him Jasper…" She hedged softly, hoping I'd get it. "I saw him and….he…" Her lip was trembling with fear, fear I never wanted to see in her eyes ever again.
"He what?" I pressed as calmly as I could, but I could already feel the anger rising once again.
"He said that it was my fault that Carlos was dead."
And that was it, that's when the fucking floodgates opened.
She sank further to the ground, her agonizing sobs almost too much for me to handle.
"He told you what?" I hissed, gently lifting her chin so I could see her again.
"It is my fault Jasper!" She cried, shaking her head. "If I…if only I had…God, this is all my damn fault!"
She was losing it and I needed to do something to help her, and fast.
"Get up," I rose quickly, bringing her with me before pulling her into a tight embrace. She only cried harder, her hands pressed flat against my chest and her face buried in the crook of my neck.
"Lucy," I rubbed her back softly. "Tell me everything he told you."
I knew it wouldn't be easy for her, but she needed to tell me before this all became another repressed memory for her.
I wouldn't allow this fucker to break her more than she already was.
She nodded slowly and I silently prepared myself for what it was that happened during those two days.
Whatever it was, however, it had practically terrified her.
I couldn't see her like this. I couldn't let her continue to blame herself for something she had no control over what so ever.
"Okay," She pulled away from me, letting out a shaky breath as she watched me with helpless eyes.
Dear God give me the fucking strength to help her with this.
If anyone's wondering why I skipped over the funeral, there's a high chance that it'll be mentioned in the next chapter.
Poor Lucy, she doesn't know what to do with herself & Jasper is having some trouble in his wanting to her.
Your reviews, as always, are love.