Some triggering things in this chapter.
Songs I listened to while writing this chapter:
Fix You by Coldplay
I'm Sorry, I'm Trying by Nothing, Nowhere
My Little Girl by Tim McGraw
Shutting Down Grace's Lab by James Horner
Angel by Sarah McLaclan
Rest in Pieces by Brian Tyler
Square Escape by Hans Zimmer
Hold Onto You by Default
1997
Montana, U.S.
Luke brought Rita home the next day when she was deemed able to do so. She didn't say much on the drive. They got back to the farm to find Kenny doing the chores.
"You alright?" he asked them.
"Yea," Luke answered when Rita didn't. She stood and stared at the tarped body of her beloved horse.
"That cat tried to come back," Kenny said, making Rita give Luke an "I told you so" look.
"Did you get it?" Luke asked, ignoring her.
"Oh, yea."
Luke looked at Rita, but she was already heading for the house.
"You need a hand burying her?" Kenny asked.
"Yea."
"I'll bring my tractor."
"Thank you."
Kenny got into his truck and drove off to do just that, and Luke went inside to find Rita. She was standing in the kitchen staring at nothing.
"Go rest up," he instructed.
"I'm helping," she insisted.
"No, you're not. You're under strict instructions to not move around a lot or lift anything."
She gave him a look that was hard to describe, but she didn't argue. When Kenny returned with his tractor, she followed Luke outside to watch them get it so that they could pull Willow to a spot farther away to bury her. Kenny dug a hole with the tractor next, and then he pulled Willow into it before jumping off to undo the ropes attached to the tarp.
Luke turned to Rita when she came closer.
"Give me a minute," she said, and he bowed his head before stepping away. Kenny followed him. Luke watched Rita kneel next to the hole, her lips moving. He imagined what she was saying. He was hurting because she was hurting, and he never liked to see her hurting. He didn't know how to help her feel better, and he didn't know if anything could help her feel better.
She picked up some dirt and dropped it in the hole before getting back up and straightening her back.
"Okay," she said.
"You want me to fill it?" Kenny asked.
"No," Luke answered. "I'll do it."
"You sure?"
"Yea. She means something to me too."
"Okay."
"Thanks for your help," Luke said to him.
"No problem, man," Kenny said, nodding his head and going to get on his tractor to drive it back home. Luke grabbed the shovel and started to fill the hole. Rita watched in silence the entire time. When he finally finished, he stuck the end of the shovel into the ground and looked at her.
"I am officially broken," Rita said without looking at him.
"Rita..."
She turned and walked away from him. He knew better than to chase after her. He put the shovel away and busied himself with other things. He wished he could help her feel better, but he knew it would take time. He just hoped she wouldn't sink too far into the darkness before clawing her way back up to the light.
...
Lance got home from his trip to find Rita depressed. He had received Luke's message at his hotel room the night before, and he'd hurried home as fast as he could. He greeted Luke and got the rest of the story before going to find his daughter. She was on her back, staring at the ceiling in her bedroom. Her arm was in a sling on her chest.
"Rita?" Lance said, knocking on the door. She turned her head to look at him.
"Hi, Dad," she said tearfully.
"I'm here now," he told her, going to sit on the edge of her bed. She pulled herself up and moved so that she was sitting in his lap like she used to as a child. He held her tightly, smoothing her hair when she started to cry. He was emotional himself. Willow had been Rosie's best friend too. Losing her was like losing Rosie all over again.
"I can't come back from this," Rita said, sniffing hard.
"You will."
"I don't think so."
"I know it feels like you won't, but you will. Life moves forward despite us wanting it to stop and stand still so we can grieve for a while. This'll always hurt, but you'll be okay."
"I feel like I can't breathe," she said.
"I know," he replied. He had felt like he couldn't breathe when Luke told him about the mountain lion attacking her. She could have died when he was away. It didn't sit well with him.
"Please, Dad," she whispered. "No more hurt for a while."
"I can't promise, but I can try," he said. She didn't say anything, and he continued to hold her in his arms for a long time after.
...
Rita walked around the halls of school like a shell. She barely heard Bridget talking. She ignored all the looks she was still being given by Devon and his friends. He'd never gotten over her breaking up with him, and he'd been a bit mean afterwards about it, but she didn't care anymore. She was slowly losing the ability to care about anything. The only people she cared about currently were her father and Luke. Lucy, Keira, and Kenny were a close second. Keira tried her best to cheer Rita up, but it just wasn't working. Rita just didn't know how to feel happy anymore. Willow had been a big part of her happiness, and without her, Rita didn't know how to cope.
"Not your best," her English teacher said, dropping her paper on her desk on his way by. She saw the low grade in red on the top right corner, and she didn't care. She'd always taken pride in having high grades, but every time she'd tried to write that stupid paper after Willow died, she just couldn't put her heart into it.
When the day finally ended, she slung her backpack over her left shoulder and walked to her car. The only good thing about going home was seeing Luke. He kept trying to make her talk, which she made him frustrated by not talking, but at least he was there. He would sometimes just sit in silence with her because he knew she didn't want to be alone.
She was completely, utterly numb, and she was pretty sure she was never going feel anything ever again.
A Week Later
Luke was working in the barn he felt a presence. He turned his head to see Bridget standing there. She'd been over trying to help Rita feel better, and he could tell by her face that it hadn't worked. He knew how she felt. He felt helpless too.
"I don't know what to do," she sighed, coming to stand closer to him.
"There's not really much to do except be there for her," he replied. He had never been overly fond of Bridget, and she'd certainly gotten into trouble in the past, which nearly got Rita into trouble a few times, but she had her moments where she tried to be a good friend. He just knew that each time usually fell flat because she was a little too into herself.
"How are you doing?" she asked next, surprising him.
"I'm fine," he answered. He felt on guard when she moved closer to him still.
"I'm not doing so great," she said honestly. "It's hard to be there for Rita sometimes when I've got my own stuff, you know?"
"Uh huh."
"I mean, it's not bad stuff. I just have been wrestling with something for a while."
"I see."
"I need to be honest with someone about how I feel," she went on.
"Okay." Where was she going with this? He felt wary.
"It's scary, but I have to just do it," she said, taking in a breath. "So, here goes." She moved quickly, and before he knew it, she was throwing her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on him. Luke tried to push her back, but she had a vice-like grip on him.
"Luke?" Rita's voice asked, and he finally twisted free of Bridget and took a step back from her. He was pissed off. Seeing Rita standing there looking completely gutted was not helping.
"Oh, Rita," Bridget said, looking sheepish. "I didn't want you to find out this way."
"Find out what?" Rita asked, looking back and forth between them.
"Nothing," Luke answered sharply. "There is absolutely nothing going on here."
"I see," Rita said. He opened his mouth to say something else when she turned and walked away.
"She did not take that very well," Bridget commented. He glared at her.
"You really are clueless, aren't you?" he asked, moving away from her. He heard her call out after Rita and imagined she was going to try and "fix" things. He hoped Rita would give her a good what for in return.
...
"Rita, wait!" Bridget called, catching up with her. "Don't be mad." Rita rounded on her quickly.
"How could you?" Rita asked angrily. Walking in on her best friend kissing the love of her life had been devastating.
"I'm sorry," Bridget said, not sounding sorry. "I just had to tell him how I felt about him."
"Since when do you like him?!"
"Since always..."
"You know how I feel about him," Rita said. She felt completely taken aback that Bridget had also liked Luke. She'd never shown any inkling before.
"Yes, but you said you were never going to go for it, so I figured I would."
"Friends don't do that," Rita said, angrier still. "Friends don't make out with their friend's crush and think it's okay!"
"Rita, chill out," Bridget said. "It's not the end of the world."
"Not the end of the...okay, I can't do this anymore," Rita said, shaking her head. She suddenly hated the person her friend had become. What happened to the giggling, funny girl she'd spent many a night sharing hopes and dreams with? This imposter that had been created in the last while was a bitch; a clueless one to boot.
"Do what?" Bridget asked.
"I have been there for you a lot," Rita started. "I've been there through everything you've endured. You can't even be here for me without going after the guy I'm crazy about!" She suddenly didn't even care if anyone heard her. She could be talking about anyone really.
"Why can't you be happy for me that I'm trying to get with a decent guy for once?"
"Oh my God!" Rita exclaimed. "Your head is so far up your own arse that you believe your own shit!"
"What? That doesn't make any sense, Rita."
"Just leave," Rita ordered. "You and I...we're done."
"Rita..."
"I said we're done!"
Bridget stood there looking shocked. Then she clenched her jaw and fist and stormed off. Rita didn't even watch her go. She was so angry. She needed an outlet, and she got an idea. Rita went to the back of the property, taking the .22 with her. She already had glass bottles set up, so when she got there, she took a moment to stop shaking and then aimed the rifle. She didn't miss a single bottle. By the end, her eyes were blurred with tears as her anger changed to grief. She'd lost her friend, and she hated that she'd even confided anything in her right now.
"Rita?"
She whipped around, rifle in front of her, and Luke ducked.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed. "Point the loaded gun someplace else, please."
"Sorry," she said, lowering it. "Don't sneak up on me." She said nothing else as she turned back to the target board. She rested the rifle down and went to put up more bottles. Luke put his hands in his pockets and watched her.
"Something on your mind?" he asked.
"Nope," she answered, determined not to show him her feelings. He could be with any girl he wanted. She wasn't stopping him.
"You seem angry," he commented as she banged the bottles down on the board.
"Better angry than sad."
He said nothing as she came back around and picked up the rifle. He immediately grabbed it and pushed it down, making her turn to look at him.
"You really shouldn't shoot angry," he noted.
"Luke, please," she said, growing impatient.
"Rita," he said back, "I'm worried about you."
"Don't worry about me," she insisted.
"But I am."
"Do you like Bridget?" she asked.
"What? No," he answered sharply. "You know she's always gotten on my nerves. It wouldn't happen even if we were the last two people on Earth."
She looked away for a moment, trying to breathe. She just needed to hear him say that. Even though she knew it was true, after seeing them lip locked, she'd felt insecure about it.
"For the record," he said softly, making her look at him again, "my heart is already taken."
She stared at him, and her insides melted as he brushed his thumb across her knuckles. He couldn't be talking about her, could he? She willed herself to say something, anything, but no words were coming out. What could she even say? Yes, she loved him, but her father didn't want her to date him, and she'd trained herself for so long to stop any and all romantic thoughts towards him, so there was no going forward with this. It wouldn't work anyway. Even if they tried, she'd probably just end up getting hurt, and she couldn't get hurt anymore.
"Well, I hope she's not broken into a million pieces like I am," Rita said, letting go of the rifle and moving to walk away.
"Rita..."
"Just get over it, Luke," she ordered, not looking back. "I did." She had to harden herself and move on. It was too late for them anyway.
Two Weeks Later
Luke was thinking about Rita yet again. Ever since he'd been bold enough to tell her his heart was taken and implying she had it, she'd shut him out even further. Her words had hurt, but he didn't believe her for a second that she'd gotten over her feelings for him. He didn't know what to do. Now, he was thinking of a way of getting through to her as he was mucking out the stalls when Lucy came tearing up the driveway in her car and screamed Lance's name once she exited it. He dropped the shovel instantly and ran as fast as he could outside. Lance was bursting out of the house as well. Rita was on his heels.
"What's happening?" Lance asked, alarmed. He approached Lucy just as she fell to her knees sobbing.
"It's Keira," she said through her cries. "S-She's gone."
"Gone?" Luke repeated.
"Gone!"
"What happened?" Lance asked again, kneeling down next to her.
"She was at school," Lucy answered. "She was supposed to go home with a friend and spend the evening at their house, and they just called to tell me that Keira never met up with their daughter after school and isn't there!"
"Oh my God," Rita said, putting a hand over her mouth.
"The school said she was gone," Lucy whispered, looking at Lance, who had her hands in his now. "She's not there. She's not at her friend's. She's not anywhere, Lance. She's gone. Someone's taken her."
"We'll find her," Lance promised. "Okay?"
"You promise?"
Luke looked at Lance, knowing that promising that wasn't a smart idea, but he kept his mouth shut. He watched Lance take his hand and rest it on her shoulder to squeeze it.
"I promise," he said.
...
Rita felt hollow. Keira was missing. Keira was gone. She was standing in the barn in front of Willow's stall, and she felt like Willow's death was the beginning of a chain of horrible events. She didn't think her heart could take much more pain.
Tears slid down her cheeks, leaving a warm trail. She felt Copper press against her legs and heard him whine. She hadn't realized he'd followed her in there. She hadn't even known he was outside, but then she heard slow footsteps, and she knew who it was without looking.
Luke stopped beside her, not saying a word. She didn't look at him. She did, however, wipe at her tears. Copper made an anxious sound in his throat then, looking back and forth between them.
"Who would want to hurt a ten year old?" she eventually asked, her voice bordering emotional.
"A very sick bastard," Luke answered.
"She's probably so scared," Rita whispered. "I can't stop thinking about what could be happening to her. It...it breaks my heart, Luke." She couldn't stop the sob from escaping, and he moved to gently pull her into his arms. He simply held her as she cried. She didn't know how long she cried on him, but it eventually got darker outside.
"We have to do something," she insisted, her face against his shirt, which was wet from her tears.
"We're going out looking," he told her. "Your dad and Kenny are arranging a crew."
"I'm coming too."
"Of course."
Rita looked up at him, not that he was much taller than her. Being with him always made her feel calmer. Yes, they'd had their fights and bickering moments, but for the most part, they got along and were level headed.
"We have to find her," she said quietly.
"I won't stop until we do," he promised. She closed her eyes briefly as he smoothed the side of her head with his fingers.
"Luke!" Lance called, and Rita didn't say anything as she felt him press his lips against her forehead close to her hairline. She looked at him then, seeing that his eyes were trying to convey something to her.
He let her go and headed out to join Lance. Rita took a moment to breathe and collect herself before following. She worked very hard to put all images of what could be happening to Keira out of her mind.
Days Later
Luke was feeling sick. Keira was still missing, and no one seemed to know anything about it. The school finally found out that a student had seen a man hanging around the grounds that day but hadn't said anything to anyone and didn't remember what the man looked like. They'd spent hours looking for Keira the last few days and nights, but they hadn't found her.
Rita was standing by the stove with a fork in her hand. She wasn't doing anything, just staring at the boiling water. Luke went up behind her and took the fork from her hand. She said nothing as she turned into his chest and slid her arms around him. He knew this was hard on her, especially after Willow. At least she was talking to him a bit more, even though it was a terrible situation they were in.
"We're not gonna find her, are we?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"I don't know, Rita," he answered honestly. He smoothed a hand over the back of her head. "I don't know."
He hated that his gut was telling him that Keira was already dead.
...
Lance was getting ready to head out and search again when Lucy drove up his driveway. As soon as he saw her face, he knew what happened. His heart shattered, and he wanted to throw up. He watched Lucy step out of her car on shaky legs and walk towards him.
"They found her," Lucy said once she was close enough to him.
"Luce," he said, knowing what was coming next.
"She's dead," Lucy whispered. Lance's stomach clenched, and he blinked a few times. His throat grew tight.
"Luce," he started again.
"In a dumpster, Lance," she cut him off. "They found her in a dumpster. What kind of monster...?" She couldn't even finish. She pressed her hands into her face, tears sliding over her fingers. Lance was about to move in to hug her when she suddenly unleashed a wail unlike no other, and he caught her before she fell to the ground.
"I'm sorry, luv," he said, holding her tight as she screamed. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not fair!" Lucy cried, pounding his back with her fist. "It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not FAAAIIIIRRR!" Her voice shook near the end. Lance didn't know what else to say, so he just held her. He saw Luke standing by the door on the porch, and they shared a look.
He knew without a doubt that Luke had just confirmed for sure that he was going to back to what he'd originally planned to do for a living.
...
Luke paced his room. He was angry. He wanted to find the person responsible for killing Keira and rip them apart limb by limb. He still didn't know much; Lucy had said the police were still working out all the details, but he knew once he found out, that person was dead.
He knew Lance felt the exact same way.
He couldn't stop seeing Keira's smile and hearing her laugh. She'd had a little girl crush on him for a while, and she'd always begged him for a piggyback ride when he wasn't busy. Knowing what had happened to her, that she'd been killed and disposed of, it made him so incredibly enraged that he could barely breathe. He balled up a fist in his right hand, and he swung it into the drywall just as Rita, who'd cried so hard at the news moments ago, came to stand in his doorway.
"Luke!" she exclaimed, and he growled from the pain of the drywall scraping his hand and the impact altogether. He turned as she strode over to him, and she took his hand to examine it.
"It's fine," he said.
"You're bleeding," she pointed out.
"It's fine," he said again, stronger this time. She ignored him and pulled him by the hand to the bathroom. He said nothing as she disinfected his hand and then wrapped it with some gauze. He flexed his hand lightly when she was done.
"Thanks," he said, watching her put everything away.
"You're welcome," she replied. He could tell she was trying to hold it all in. He hated when she tried to do that. He stopped her when she tried to walk out, catching her by the shoulders and holding her still.
"Don't," she said, trying to make him let go.
"Please talk to me," he said back, his voice having an almost pleading tone to it.
"I have nothing to say," she retorted.
"Rita..."
"Just let me go," she said harshly. "Let me go, Luke." It was a switch from her act of caring moments ago. He knew her emotions were all over the place. He knew better than to listen to her, that she really didn't want to bottle it all up inside. When he pulled her into a tight embrace, she burst into tears and clung to him.
"Rita?" Lance asked, making Luke turn his head to see him standing there looking at them both. He looked older suddenly; broken.
"Dad," Rita said tearfully, pulling out of Luke's grasp and going over to her father. "I can't stand it." Luke watched as Lance wrapped his arms around Rita and held her close.
"I know," Lance said. "I can't either."
"What do we do?"
"Just be there for Lucy."
Luke slipped away, needing to get some air. He ended up walking down the road aimlessly at first. Then he started to run. He ran and ran, barely feeling the burn in his legs and lungs as he did so. He barely felt anything at all.
But he knew one thing for sure: He wasn't about to let monsters who hurt little girls like Keira continue to breathe on this Earth. His path, his destiny, was put back in front of him, and he was running towards it at full speed, Lucy's screams echoing in his mind with every step.
A Couple of Days Later
Rita barely heard anything at the funeral. She just kept seeing the small casket and struggled to breathe from the grief. Keira's mother was sitting with Lucy in the front, a shell shocked expression on her face. Rita was surprised Lucy had even managed to find her since she'd disappeared all those years ago.
She felt Luke reach to take her hand, and she held it tightly. Something had shifted inside of him, she noticed. She didn't know what it meant, but he was angry. Lance had become just as withdrawn, and she knew he was reliving his past grief just like she was.
At the reception, she stood in the corner and watched everyone approach Lucy and talk to her or hug her. She'd already spent time with Lucy in the last few days helping her with the funeral and just supporting her, so she left her alone now. Lucy's daughter was clinging to her side anyway.
"How are you?" Luke asked, coming back to her side. He'd done a round, looking at the pictures and talking to Kenny and Lance after giving Lucy a hug.
"I'm numb," she answered. He nodded slowly.
"Yea. Me too."
"I'm not going to recover from this," she admitted.
"It feels that way now."
"I won't," she insisted.
"Rita," Luke said firmly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You still have to live. Keira would want you to live."
"She didn't deserve to die like this," Rita started, tearing up again.
"I know, but we both know Keira, and we both know she would be telling you to not let this sink you."
"It's too late," Rita whispered.
"Rita," he said again, but she pulled from his grasp and walked away. She went outside, not knowing where to go but just needing to get away. Luke caught up with her not long after.
"Don't!" she shouted at him when he tried to stop her.
"Look at me," he said fiercely, catching her hands and forcing her to stop anyway. She refused, so he grabbed her chin and made her. She hated the amount of tears rolling down her cheeks at this point.
"You were right," she said. "Don't get close to people because you lose them and it hurts like hell."
"No," he said strongly. "Don't do that. You taught me that it's by being close with people that we can move forward from that hurt of loss. You can't do this alone, Rita."
"But I am..."
"No, you're not! You have me!" he exclaimed. She closed her eyes, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "You have me. You have your father. You have Lucy. You have Kenny. You have people, Rita. You do."
"Then why do I feel so alone?" she whispered, clutching him hard.
"You have to let us in," he answered softly.
"I can't," she said, shaking her head and pulling back from him. "Not right now."
"Rita..."
"Please, just give me space," she said, walking away again. This time, he let her go. She just walked, and eventually, Lance drove up beside her and gave her a ride home. It was there she fell apart.
A Month Later
Lance watched his daughter sink into a depression in the following weeks. He didn't know what to do about it. He tried a lot of things to make her smile or laugh, but he didn't get much of a response anymore. He knew Luke was worried as well, but it seemed that there wasn't anything they could do to make her snap out of it.
"Rita," he said one evening, standing in her doorway. "I'm worried about you, luv."
"I'm fine, Dad," she answered. He noted the lack of a book in her hand. She was just hugging her knees together. He knew that her biggest coping mechanism was gone, and he cursed the damn mountain lion that did that to her. He wished he'd been home; he'd been angry and sad after finding out about it after. He still felt that maybe he could have done something to prevent it if he'd been there.
He moved to sit on the edge of her bed and reached to take her hand in his. Her face showed she was trying not to cry, and it hurt him that she felt she needed to hide her emotions.
"It's okay to let it out," he said softly.
"I know."
"What are you feeling right now?"
"I'm feeling lost," she answered after a moment. "I'm really lost, Daddy." He moved to pull her into his arms, and she clung to him. He rested a hand on her head and held her close.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked when she'd stopped crying for a bit.
"Okay."
"Not only do you have your mother's beauty, you also have her heart," he said. "And because of that, you feel things way more than most do. Just don't let it bury you into the ground so far that you can't get back out."
"I'll try."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
He held her and rocked her for a long time.
...
Luke spent the last month monitoring the school from a safe distance. He had a feeling that if Keira's killer had found her there, he'd return for another victim. The police had no evidence and no leads, so they weren't getting anywhere, which led Luke to just start watching the school himself. After weeks of waiting, today was the day. Luke watched the man saunter down the street with his hands in his pockets, and he just knew. He knew.
It was her killer.
He watched, waiting. The man paused to look at the children in the playground more often than he should. Luke just knew he was scoping out a new victim. He looked cocky and confident, and why wouldn't he be? He'd gotten away with it. No one knew it was him who'd murdered Keira. He was going for round two. Luke ground his jaw, burning inside. He kept his cool, though, because he needed to plan this out better. He watched the man go to his car, and he waited for him to get a head's start before he discreetly followed the man to his house. Luke parked a ways back and clenched the steering wheel of his car until he couldn't feel his fingers. He watched the man go into his shabby little house, and he struggled to breathe.
Keira had probably been killed in there.
He counted to thirty before driving around to a different street to park and waiting for dark. When it finally became dusk out, he knew it was time. He breathed hard, opening the car door and stepping out while pulling a black hoodie over him and concealing his face with the hood. He had no weapons. He didn't know the layout of the house. He didn't even know if the man lived alone or if others were in there with him. He might even have the wrong guy. He didn't care. He was fueled by rage and vengeance. He was fueled by grief.
He carefully made his way to the house, glad it was almost dark and that there were only two houses in the vicinity that looked relatively abandoned at the moment. It was unlocked, so he went inside, pulling the door shut behind him with his shirt covering his hand. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears so loud it was almost deafening. He stepped quietly, searching. He stopped walking when he found the man sitting with his back to him at the kitchen table. Luke almost changed his mind in that moment, but then he spotted Keira's backpack leaning against the wall in the hallway and photos on the small table in the hallway of her incapacitated, and that was all the confirmation he needed to know this was the right guy.
Luke strode up behind the man, reaching around to grab his throat and yank him backwards. The man yelped and fell out of his chair with a crash. Then Luke was fighting. He was punching and twisting and throwing the man around like he weighed nothing, shattering picture frames and knocking things to the floor as he did so. He got some blows back, but he easily dodged the rest. Clearly this man was weak and preferred to prey on helpless children.
"No, please," the man begged when Luke towered over him on the floor after throwing him down hard. "Please don't kill me!"
"Is that what Keira said right before you murdered her?" Luke asked angrily. Recognition hit the man's eyes then, and he started trying to fight back again. Luke was about to break his neck when another person grabbed him from behind and threw him off. He hit the floor hard, and suddenly it was two against one. Luke slightly panicked when the first man grabbed his ankles and the second one sat on his chest to wrap their fist around his throat. He was heavy.
"Trying to be a hero, huh?" the second man sneered. "Looks like you're too late."
Luke swung his fist into the man's ribs and then jaw, getting some slack but not enough. He heard a knife blade being flicked open, and he jerked his legs to avoid getting stabbed. His vision was going slightly fuzzy at this point, and he cried out when he felt the knife blade go into the back of his left leg and trail down a few inches.
"Not such a tough guy after all," the bigger man said with a cruel laugh. "Hell, I think the little girl fought back harder." Luke released a strangled roar at this. The first man was laughing too, and he was working to switch hands holding the knife to cut Luke's other leg. Luke didn't want to know what else they were gonna do to him, and he jerked his leg again, but the rage was building higher at the man's words about Keira. The second man lifted and slammed Luke onto the floor hard, knocking him slightly senseless while squeezing his throat tighter. Luke tried to punch out and elbow the man on top of him, but it wasn't working. It was time to use his environment. He managed to twist his head to the left and saw a five pound weight on the floor.
That'll do.
He grabbed it, feeling his rage explode, and brought it up hard into the man's head. The man screamed in pain and fell off of him, rolling on the ground and shouting while holding his face in his hands. Luke gulped in air as he sat up and threw the weight at the first man holding his legs. He went down, and Luke was on him instantly, wrestling the knife from his hand. He grabbed the weight again and repeatedly smashed it into the man's head until the man stopped moving. Then he rounded on the bigger one, who was stumbling around and trying to get their wits back about them finally. The rage in Luke was immense, and he didn't even remember what he did next until he found himself standing over a second dead body. Shaking, Luke looked around him and tried to plan his next move. His blood and DNA would be in this house. They'd tie the deaths to him. He looked at the structure and knew it was very poor. He looked over at the fireplace next and decided that's what he was gonna do. First, he found duct tape and wrapped his leg up tight over his pants to stop the bleeding and avoid a blood trail. It did not appear that a main artery or anything serious was hit, and it was not deep enough to need stitches, which was a relief. Then he started a fire where the fight had been to get rid of his evidence first. He took the weight and duct tape with him along with Keira's backpack. He left the photos because he couldn't stomach them, there was no point in anyone else seeing them, and he wanted police to not wonder why these two people had died. He didn't want any fingers being pointed at Lucy or any of them. Let them die nobodies. He'd gotten his revenge.
He pulled his hood back up over his head, limped out the back door, and headed across the lawn to his car, grateful for the dark neighborhood. He got into his car and gasped in pain as he put his key in the ignition. He'd been taught how to cover his tracks enough times. He was confident no one would see him or know it had been him who'd done it. He left with the flames of the fire becoming more and more visible in the dark night. He drove home, trying to breathe and feeling angry and then anguished over and over again. He'd gotten revenge for Keira, but it hadn't made him feel as good as he'd hoped.
He got home to find Lance in the kitchen. Rita was nowhere to be found, probably in her room, which was for the better. Luke stepped towards him, catching Lance's eye.
"What the hell?" Lance asked, dropping the knife he was using and hurrying over to him. "Luke, what happened?"
In response, Luke set the bloody weight and roll of duct tape down on the table and Keira's backpack next to it. Lance took in the items and released a shaky sigh.
"You found her killer," he said.
"Yea," Luke answered. "There were two of 'em." Lance closed his eyes briefly before pinching the bridge of his nose momentarily.
"What did you do?" he asked finally.
"They're having a nice barbecue right about now," Luke answered.
"Did you leave any evidence?"
"No," Luke answered, gesturing to the weight and duct tape first, then the backpack. "I brought them with me and some closure for Lucy."
"I'll handle this," Lance said, picking up the backpack. "You deal with that."
"I'm on it," Luke said, picking the weight and duct tape back up and limping to the back door. Copper was nosing him worriedly now and whining.
"Copper, come here," Lance ordered. The last thing they needed was the dog digging up the weight later.
"I'll go far," Luke promised. Lance nodded, and Luke stepped out into the night. He got on the four wheeler and drove far away after grabbing a shovel. Once he found an appropriate spot, he dug a hole and dropped the weight and roll of duct tape into it.
"I'm sorry, Keira," he said. "I know it doesn't bring you back, but they can't hurt anyone else. Now you know who I really am. I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe." He paused for a moment, feeling emotional. "I'll never forget you. I promise."
He filled in the hole and went back home. Lance was gone, so he knew he was over at Lucy's. Luke went to the bathroom to deal with his knife wound, cuts, and bruises before showering. His adrenaline was finally coming down, and he was suddenly exhausted.
It was official. He was an assassin.
Standing there looking at himself in the mirror afterwards, Luke felt very numb. What he'd just done played over in his mind again and again, but he had no regrets. He wasn't sorry. It was what he'd been trained for all these years after all. His hands started to shake, though, and then he felt anguish again thinking about Keira. She was gone. She wasn't coming back. He'd failed to keep her safe.
Before he knew it, he was crying.
...
Lance felt sad upon seeing Lucy's tearstained face when she opened the door. He didn't know how she'd handle seeing Keira's backpack, but he did know her enough to feel confident she wouldn't tell anyone about it.
"Lance," she said hoarsely. "What's wrong?"
"Can I come in?"
"Of course."
She moved aside to let him in, and he paused a few steps past her. She looked at the bag in his hands, and her eyes widened in recognition.
"Where did you get that?" she asked, whispering.
"I found it," Lance answered.
"Where?"
"It's taken care of," Lance answered. Lucy blinked, staring at him until realization dawned on her face.
"You took care of it," she murmured.
"I did."
"Oh, Lance..."
"There were two of them. They won't hurt anyone else ever again."
"Oh my God, Lance..."
"Not a word to anyone, Lucy," Lance warned. She shook her head.
"No, of course not. I...thank you. Thank you, Lance, for doing that. I...I don't know what to say."
"Don't lose sleep over it," Lance told her as she hugged him tightly. "They were dangerous and despicable."
"I won't," Lucy said, crying now. "I won't." She clutched the backpack tightly against her after pulling away from him.
"I can trust you?" Lance asked.
"Of course," she answered. "Lance, I know it doesn't bring her back, but it'll help me sleep better knowing they're gone. They're definitely gone, right?"
"Yes."
"Two of them," Lucy said, choking. "There were two of them. Oh, Keira." She sobbed harder, and Lance pulled her in to hold her again. He felt anger and rage inside, but he also felt some concern for Luke. The boy had killed them with his bare hands after all. He'd check in with him later.
For now, he was there for Lucy.
...
Rita heard the sobs, and she walked quietly down the hall and paused outside the bathroom door. It was extremely unusual to hear Luke cry. She didn't think she'd ever heard or seen him cry, if she was honest. He'd gotten wet eyes and an emotional voice about Keira the last while, but he hadn't full out cried.
She reached and put a hand on the door, contemplating going in there to comfort him, but something stopped her. She had a feeling he wouldn't want her to see his raw grief like that. She backed away, deciding to leave him alone. Ten minutes later, he came out and acted like nothing was wrong. She did notice his limp and bruised face, though.
"What happened?" she asked, shocked and concerned.
"I got mugged," he answered. "I'm alright."
"Oh, Luke..."
"I'm alright," he said again, more firmly.
"But..."
"How are you holding up?" he asked next, changing the subject. She stared at him. He'd gotten mugged, and he was more concerned about how she was feeling.
"I don't want to talk about it," she answered. He gave her a sad look, but he didn't push. She watched him limp away with Copper at his heels, and he went into his room and shut the door. She pressed her fingers into her eyes, feeling bad for shutting him out but also working hard not to care. She was broken now. She was better off keeping to herself.
It was for the best
...
Luke looked up when Lance came into his room a while later. He was still slightly shaking, his mind racing, as Lance surveyed him carefully.
"You could have told me," Lance said after a moment. "I would have helped. That was very reckless of you."
"I'm sorry."
"How are you doing?" Lance asked next. Luke was grateful he skipped the lecture. He already knew he'd acted on his emotions and not logic, which almost cost him.
"I've thrown up a few times," Luke answered honestly. "I keep seeing their faces. I keep seeing me smashing their faces in. I don't even know what came over me. I just...I lost it."
"It happens," Lance confirmed.
"Was Lucy...?"
"Upset but grateful they're gone. I told her I took care of it," Lance added. "No sense in getting you involved."
"Okay."
"What's your plan now?"
"You can tell Dennis I'm in," Luke replied. "This is who I am now."
"You sure?"
"Yea. There are more people out there like Keira who need to be saved before this shit happens to them," Luke said. "I want to be the one to dispose of the garbage."
"Okay. I'll call Dennis."
"Thanks for checking in," Luke said, rubbing his head.
"I'm here if you need to talk it out. Up close and personal is intense," Lance advised.
"Is it bad that I don't feel sorry?" Luke asked.
"I don't think so. We know what they did."
"I just don't want to become a soulless bastard," Luke went on. "I worry that'll happen if I do this."
"I think as long as you worry about it, you'll be just fine," Lance indicated. "When you stop worrying about it, maybe re-evaluate what you're doing."
"Makes sense."
"I gotta go check in with Rita," Lance said now, going to leave the room.
"Okay."
"Come talk if you need to."
"I will."
Luke sighed when he was alone again. He felt so helpless knowing that Rita was folding into herself. He had no idea how to bring her back. He was worried. Lance was worried. Even Copper was worried, spending more time following her around and lying on her whenever she was on the couch. She didn't talk much despite Luke's efforts. He didn't know what to do for Rita right now, but all he could do was be there when she needed him. Hopefully one day, he'd be able to bring her back.
He had to because without her, he was lost, and he didn't want to get so lost that he could never find his way back.