A lot of stuff comes to light in this chapter involving Claudia... enjoy! :D
Peter had left half an hour after he had come, worked up and beyond happy. I went back inside to Martha, falling beside her and curling into her body. She stirred slightly in her sleep, but her arm came over me and helped me snuggle into her, holding me tight around my waist. I placed my head on my arm and listened to her gentle breathing, assuring myself that she was fine for the moment. We used to fall asleep like this together all the time on the sofa, and we would wake up with a blanket over us thanks to mom. But I knew that no blanket was going to be placed over us, leaving us open to the cold. We were on our own.
I fitted in only a couple hours of sleep, nightmares rattling in my mind and my body aching with the hard floor. It was my alarm going off in the other room that woke us, alerting us that it was time to try and get on with the normal life. When I woke I was shivering, coiling into a ball to try and rebel against it. I realised that the window was still open from when Peter had arrived, explaining a lot. Martha moaned groggily, also shivering as she clambered to her feet. I watched her, feeling my heart sink to my toes.
She looked ill. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her skin unnaturally pale and her hair somehow lifeless. And she looked so weak. She was no longer the strongest of the two of us, and that fact was extremely daunting. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if holding herself together. I puffed out a sigh of sadness and pity.
"It's going to be okay." I murmured. She offered a weak smile, stumbling to her room and clicking the door shut. I closed my eyes, sitting up stiffly and brushing my hair from my face. Everything had been almost perfect until last night, and I could feel our world slowly falling apart yet again. Martha was just inches from shattering, and it was going to take all I had to hold her together. But I refused to let myself break. I had been down that road, and that was one trip through Hell I was determined to not repeat.
I pulled my knees to my chest and stared ahead blankly. Martha reappeared a few minutes later, wearing her waitress nametag and furiously rubbing her eyes. I watched in shock as she forced on layers of makeup, determined to get on with her day as normal.
"You can't be serious." I said, disgusted.
"I'm not missing work because of that bastard." Her voice was thick as she tried to hold herself in check. "He just thinks he's funny, that's all."
"When was anything that easy?" I snapped.
"Look, we can't just sit around here and mope." She snarled, glaring at me. I flinched, cringing away from her on the floor. Her eyes bulged and she sighed heavily. "I'm sorry." She whispered.
"I deserve worse." I murmured. She said nothing, for we both knew it was true. She finished off her makeup and pulled her hair up into a tight bun, her eyes frighteningly empty. I watched as she grabbed her bag from the counter and made her way towards the door.
"Get ready for school." She said flatly. And then she left.
I wasn't going to school, no way. I had other things on my agenda, so a day of boring classes could wait. I dashed to my room and peeled out of my old clothes and pulled on some fresh ones. I pulled on some black skinny jeans and pulled my black hoody over my head, leaving the hood up. I yanked on my running shoes and snagged my keys from my bedside.
Once I got outside, I was met by pouring rain and I tugged my hood to help shield my face. And then I ran for it. I shoved through the people on their way to school and work, I raced across the busy roads and nearly got killed in the process. But I didn't care. I ran through many streets, pausing now and then to try and make sense of my surroundings. I needed to remember where I had been on the night of the attack, find the right alley way where I had found and followed Rick. I needed to find that warehouse!
I couldn't care less that people were yelling at me, staring at me. I fled through the rain, my chest burning with pain and my muscles begging for a break. But I wasn't going to take a break, not until I figured out when Rick was now taking refuge. And I would find it. Martha was already losing her mind, so I mentally had a countdown going on through my head. I was going to make the next move, not Rick. Me.
I searched through my memory, trying to pluck out some key features. For the moment all I could remember was dark alleys, smashing bottles and wrenching as Rick threw up. Power walking past each alley within walking distance of my home, I searched deeper into my mind. I tried many different pathways, always coming to dead ends. But then I remembered a key feature, the one that would help give me an idea on where to go. I had passed the back of a kitchen, a kitchen attached to a restaurant. Bingo!
Half an hour after leaving the house, I finally felt familiarity sink in, gazing at the door behind a local restaurant. Slowly I let images flood back to me, and with a great amount of patience, I gradually made the path I had made over a week ago. Unease took over me when I walked down the final alley, just a turning away from the warehouse. I could picture myself on the ground, four men towering over me and they beat me to a pulp. I could hear my faint cries. I could hear the slams as they smashed my back against the wall. I could hear Gwen's life saving threat for distraction. And I remembered Peter's promising arrival. All of it happened in this alley.
As I gazed around, seeing the place in daylight, I saw a back pool of dried liquid on the ground, shining below the layer of rain. My hand went to my cheek and I shivered, hearing the blow in my ears. How had he not crushed my cheek? Shaking my head I regained focus, and I gingerly poked my head around the corner. I squinted through the rain, and I was pretty sure it was abandoned. And then I looked up to my right, slowly grinning.
I clambered onto the fire escape and climbed up, this building long and wide and towering over the warehouse below. At the top I kept a low profile, scanning the area around me to make sure I was alone. As I searched high and low, my eyes landed on a large rock close to the door that led into the building, and I picked it up without hesitation. And then I moved to the perimeter, looking down on the roof of the warehouse. Biting my lips, I raised my arm with the rock. And then, with all my strength, I lobbed it down onto the roof, welcomed by a huge crash in its wake.
Clatter, crash, bang!
I shrunk out of sight, moving along to peer at the entrance. In an instant the door flung open, and two men rushed out into the rain in response to the crashing. They wore hoods, making it difficult to see their faces. Dammit!
"What the hell was that?" one of them shouted over the pouring rain.
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" the other responded, and both voices sound distinctly familiar.
"Let's show her what we're made of." That sentence rang through my mind, chilling me to the bone when realised it belonged to the first man's voice. But that was soon replaced with hot rage. I ground my teeth, fighting every urge inside of me to not go after him and get away from my safety zone up here. Yes, this was definitely the place. These guys were throwing their weight around, and there was no way I would be able to go up against them on my own. Rick was the one I wanted, though.
"What's going on? What was that?" this voice really did snap a nerve. I watched as Rick came into view, waving a bottle of pure vodka around and stumbling around like a drunk. Grinding my teeth I kept back a shriek of rage, biting my tongue hard enough to draw blood and keep myself quiet. My nails dug into the concrete floor below me, effectively breaking them. After pointless looks around, the three men finally gave up and let the noise slide.
"What if it was the Thatcher girl?" the first guy said. Rick laughed, generally amused.
"Jacky boy, she's not going to remember where this place is, not after the way you took care of her." He laughed. I bit my lip, holding back my own laughter. He really did know how to underestimate me. The two men laughed with him.
"She was just as weak as the first time, just like her folks were! She practically let me shoot them buggers!"
My heart stopped. My breath hitched. My grin vanished.
They laughed and joked, vanishing back inside the warehouse, leaving me paralyzed with shock and numbness. No, no, it couldn't be true. It couldn't be! I would have known, I would have known! Panic overtook me, panic and agony. No, no, no! It just couldn't be true! It just couldn't be! I felt my mind crumble, and I suddenly felt like the girl on the night of the murders. Weak, useless, pathetic. I was now on a fine line, stuck between going insane with grief and agony.
I had no idea how, but I ended up at school, floating through the corridors like a ghost, and how I got there was completely blank. They were empty, for everyone would be in their first class, but I was sure that if they were swarming with people I wouldn't have noticed. I felt my heart tearing apart in my chest, the lump in the back of my throat unbearably painful. I wondered why I had come to the school. But when the bell shrilled, and students flooded out of the class rooms, my question was answered. When Peter came into view, I stumbled towards him. Gwen was beside him, and I watched horror cross both of their faces. Finally, I collapsed, both of them softening my fall.
When I came around, the first thing I thought about was the weight of my stomach. I opened my eyes, frowning, and I realised I was in my room on my bed. Looking down, I saw that Peter had his head on my stomach, his face in my direction and his eyes were closed. He had a chair pulled up beside my bed, one that normally lived in Martha's room at her dressing table. For a moment I felt content, but the reality of my situation came crashing down on me within seconds.
Rick was the reason why my parents were dead. He set the whole thing up.
I wept then, my body jerking with my uncontrollable sobs. Peter bolted up right, startled, but he quickly came to his senses. I pulled my knees to my chest and sobbed into my pillow, and I could feel myself shattering. Peter climbed onto the bed, the mattress sinking under him, and he lay beside me and wrapped me in his arms. He kissed my shoulder, neck and hair, whispering words of comfort which were easily drowned by my sobs. I rolled in his hold, tucking my face in his chest in the attempt to hide from all of my troubles. He repeatedly kissed my head, never letting me go, and I thought I could feel his heart breaking with mine.
Finally, I calmed down. Small sniffles escaped me now and then, and Peter just simply held me in silence. I didn't think I could get any closer to him. Our legs were tangled together, his arms around my waist while mind were locked around his neck. His lips were on my forehead, and I noticed how harsh his breaths were. He was falling apart because I was.
"What... What time... is it?" I stuttered.
"Just gone one in the afternoon." He said stiffly. More silence followed. My body trembled, and his hold on me tightened at all angles like a snake tightening around its kill. He was so possessive, determined to hold me together, even if he didn't know what happened.
"He killed them." I choked. He stiffened, his heartbeat accelerating.
"What?" he asked, his voice broken.
"Rick killed them." I felt more tears coming, and just as they rolled down my cheeks, Peter caught my lips in his.
"He'll get what he deserves." He snarled, burying his face in my throat. I choked on another sob, blinking against my streaming tears. I could have handled with Rick's violence, his threats, even putting Martha's life on the line, but not this. He was the reason my whole life was torn apart. He was the reason I turned on Martha in the first place. He was the reason I wanted to kill myself. It was all him! I wasn't sure how much more I could take.
"He'll pay for it." Peter vowed against my skin. "I promise."
With a shaky, broken sight, I kissed his neck. "And we'll... do it... together."
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