Wait the fact you did it,
Don't admit it,
Won't make you innocent.
I watched. I waited. I couldn't do anything else until she made a move, so I had to wait. And wait I did, patiently, just like my father taught me. He taught me so much. I was glad he finally found me. Glad he finally showed me what I was. Who I am. He saved me from all the lies, all the fakes. He was one of the few I could trust.
"Trish!" She was here. Finally. My heart began to race when I saw her running down the path. She was still wearing the white wedding dress, though the hem was now stained with dark mud, and torn in places from running through the forest. Her hair flew out behind her, a dark brown banner. Her face was twisted with terror, her breath gasping out from her in a rush.
"Oh my god!" She gasped it out, though I wasn't paying attention really. She threw her arms around me as she gasped for breath, holding me close. I wrapped my arms around her too, what else could I do? She was supposed to be my wife.
"It's okay," I soothed, running a hand down her dark brown hair, trying to soothe, to calm. "It's okay."
"Oh my god!" She gasped and wept. "I thought he killed you!" She gasped again, her breath hissing on my ear, sliding across the hairs on the nape of my neck. "Wakefield escaped! Henry Wakefield escaped we have to go!" This was it. This was the moment. My heart thumped hard in my chest, but I kept an outward calm appearance.
"I know," I said, holding onto her elbows as she pulled back, looking over her shoulder, looking for Wakefield. She turned again, looked back at me, fear drawing harsh lines across her face, making her tremble in my grasp. "I know. I gave him the key." She gasped in breaths, looking unsure. Looking so confused.
"W- What?" It was the only thing she said. Probably, it was the only thing she could say. I could see her mind racing, her thoughts swirling with disbelief, with fear. Fear of me? I didn't know.
"Sully was right. Wakefield as an accomplice." I shook my head, keeping the calm look on my face, despite the hard racing of my heart. "It's just not Jimmy."
That was when it kicked in for her. I had let my hands drop from her, let her back away. "N- No," She said, a gasp. This time I could see the fear was of me. I could see the disbelief, the fear, and even anger in her dark eyes, all directed at me. "No!" She backed up again, and I reached out and grasped her elbows. She tried to push me away, weakly. She didn't have the strength, fear and exhaustion from the running had tired her far too much.
"Look, I know how hard this must be for you," I said, holding her elbows tightly. I didn't want her to get away, after all.
"No! You lied!" She almost screamed it, almost could get her voice loud enough to shout. She broke away from me, fell to her hands and knees on the ground and tried hard to crawl away.
"Listen." She wailed, it was the only way to explain the cry that came from her. It was a wail of grief and fear as she tried to crawl away from me. "Stop." She didn't stop. I hadn't actually expected her to stop trying to crawl away from me. "Stop," I said again, and this time reached down to grab her hair and yanked her back to her feet, ignoring her screams and cries. "Stop!" I said again, a little more forcefully. "Don't make this harder than it is," I told her, my mouth almost right against her ear. She cried harder, reaching back with her right hand to try to loosen my tight grip on her hair. I didn't like this, not at all. I cared for Trish. But right now, Trish was just in the way, and what I had to do was necessary to get what I wanted. "It had to happen on our wedding day." I softened my voice, almost whispering now.
"You killed them." Her voice was just as soft, a little raspy as if she had cried and screamed so much that her throat had gone raw. "You killed… My father… And J.D. Oh my… Oh my god," She gasped, trying to suck in another breath, trying to breathe through her grief and fear.
"I'm sorry," I whispered back. And I was. I really was sorry I had to do this to Trish. "I'm sorry," I said again. "It was all part of the plan. I really wanted to give you the wedding."
"You bastard," She said to me. She broke free again, I let her loose. She turned, screamed again, "You bastard!" and began to hit me. Slapping at my chest, screaming over again the same line, "You bastard" almost like a chant. I reached out, and drew her in. She let out another wordless scream as I held her close to me, and she cried harder.
Then I slid the knife hard into her side. She gasped, her body jerking in my arms, denying death even though I had plunged it into her side. She began to make small, helpless noises, like a wounded animal. I supposed that's what she was now, after all. A wounded, helpless animal that I had hurt.
"It's not fair," I whispered to her as she gasped for breath she wouldn't be able to draw soon. Gasped around the pain that surely tore through her. I jerked the knife up, hard, and she drew in one more breath. "It's not fair," I repeated softly in her ear, as if trying to give solace. As if I was trying to soothe her.
Gently, I knelt, holding my bride in my arms as she gasped her last breaths. She stared up at me, her eyes holding betrayal, pain, accusations as her arms began to fall limply from around my neck. Soon, her arms fell to the ground, and her eyes were sightless, the accusations fading with the life I had caused to drain out of her.
I pulled the knife from her side, still holding Trish's dead body up with one arm as I heard soft footsteps approaching on the rain-soft earth. After a moment, I looked up, not seeing the man in front of me for a second. When my brain cleared, I saw him. I saw the man who made me, me. He stood there, waiting, staring at me and Trish. I stared back at him for a moment, breathing in and out, trying to calm my racing heart. Finally, I spoke.
"Hey, dad."
So justify the reason to kill.
Reason to kill.
I bet you will.
Fooling no one but yourself.
But yourself.
I wish you well.