To the Guest who has upcoming finals on the 18th: Good luck, ma chérie! Hope this chapter can make the studying a little less life-sucking and depleting. ;3
A/N: HOLY SHIT. I MADE IT TO TWENTY! MY FIRST STORY WITH TWENTY CHAPTERS EVER. I FEEL SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME GET TO THIS POINT! I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCH!
I tried to get this chapter out as soon as possible and that's why I haven't responded yet to reviews, but thank you everyone for your continued support. It means so much to me. You all literally are the awesome ones. Sorry for being all over the place haha! I'm trying to work on seven stories at once~ :)
Disclaimer: I do not own GMW otherwise Maya would be kicking asses for real.
Lucas climbed down the stairs of his home, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Papa had told him to wait for him to come upstairs to tuck him in, but it had been quite a long time now, and he still hadn't come up.
Lucas' mama would always tell him it was time for him to start going to sleep on his own since he was just shy of eight, but Lucas wanted to hold onto his childhood a little longer. Besides, Papa would always tell him fun bedtime stories about his old days as a sheriff, stopping bandits left and right and sending criminals to the jailhouse. It made Lucas want to become a cool sheriff in the future too.
His father had just started telling him the tale of a cowboy he had met years ago who could shoot with the wind, which sounded crazy, but Lucas really wanted to hear more about it. He didn't think anyone he knew could shoot with the wind. It was something that was rarely seen, and no one in particular had been able to accomplish it well. Then again, most people in his town were incredibly poor shots.
Lucas reached the bottom of the stairwell and walked to the parlor, expecting to see his mother and father resting there, reading. But the parlor was empty, no sign of them having even been in the room. Frowning in confusion, he walked past the stairs and down the corridor to his father's study. His papa often spent many nights working on the town affairs in there while his mama sewed or read her novels.
Lucas pushed open the door of the study, looking into the darkness apprehensively. He'd always been a little afraid of the dark.
"Papa? Mama?" he called out.
But there was no response.
Lucas swallowed and walked further down the corridor, padding softly through the hall. Further down, he could see a light coming from under the doorway of his papa's office. He wasn't allowed in there, but Lucas would just go in quickly to ask his papa to tuck him in. He probably wouldn't get in trouble if he spoke as sweetly as he knew how.
He grasped the doorknob, his thumb brushing over the scratch mark he'd accidentally made with a key when he had tried to sneak into Papa's office one time. But as he opened the door, the first thing he saw was knife sticking through the portrait of his family behind the desk. And then there were a couple men standing on either side of a lifeless body on the ground. In horror, Lucas' eyes dropped to the body, and he gasped in shock as he recognized the body of his father, bleeding and unmoving.
He heard a strange gurgling sound from inside the room and stepped in cautiously, legs trembling and eyes wide. He was met with the image of his mother, gasping for breath from a bayonet that had been thrust through her chest by his uncle. Her dulled brown eyes turned slowly to Lucas and her lip quivered as blood trailed out of her mouth and dribbled down her face and neck.
"…Lu…cas…" she choked out before her eyes fluttered closed, and her head dropped backwards.
"U-uncle Jed?" Lucas whimpered, appalled by what he was seeing.
Jed turned to face the young boy, and Lucas took a slight step back at the venom in his expression. His eyes were cold and empty, something that Lucas had never seen on the man's face before in his life. He had always been kind. Always smiling. Always so friendly.
Jed yanked out the blade from her chest, and Lucas' mother slumped to the floor with a sickening thump. Blood poured out of her wound and quickly began to spread on the ground.
"Oh my… You weren't supposed to see that."
But Jed had a smile on his face. The same benevolent smile he'd always had on his face.
No.
Not benevolent.
Suddenly, Lucas could see now that it was a sneer full of poison. The dangerous smile of a predator.
Lucas could feel his heart racing and breathing come out rapidly as he looked back at the dead bodies of his parents. His breath was coming out unevenly and in shudders, and he could hear it growing louder and louder by the second. He wanted to scream or to shout, but his voice was stolen and all he could do was stare at his parents with a trembling lower lip.
His mama's soft, caring voice. His papa's warm blue eyes. They were both gone.
Lucas' eyes lifted slowly back to the treacherous face of the man who was supposed to be family.
He did this.
Jed had taken his parents from him.
All Lucas could feel was rage pulsing through his veins. Rage and bitter resentment and anger and all he wanted was for Jed to die.
His eyes were drawn to the discarded rifle on the ground and only one thought went through his mind.
To kill him.
He'd never shot off a rifle in his life, but he ran over and snatched it up with a ragged cry of agony, firing it off towards the man he thought was family. The bullet missed the center of Jed's face and zoomed past his right cheek, nicking the skin and drawing blood. Jed covered his face with a howl and then spun to his men.
"Don't just stand there you dumb shits! Get that thing out of his hands!" he barked.
Lucas tried to turn around and run, but one the men grabbed his collar and yanked him back into the room. The other wrenched the rifle from his hands and Lucas kicked and trashed about, shouting and trying to get away. They wrestled him to the ground and banged his face into the floor before kicking him brutally in the ribs to stop moving.
Lucas choked and curled into a ball, gasping for breath every time the boots repeatedly smashed into his ribs. He cried out, eyes cascading with tears and body shaking from the pain.
"Enough!" Jed growled as he wiped his bloodied hands on a large handkerchief.
The men stepped aside as Jed approached Lucas, a hollow look in his eyes. He crouched down so he was closer to Lucas' shaking form.
"Does it hurt, Lucas?"
Lucas violently spat blood out on Jed's shoes. Jed laughed loudly before wrapping the handkerchief around Lucas' eyes, blocking out the light and suddenly throwing him into darkness.
"Don't worry… It won't hurt anymore soon enough…"
~.~.~
Lucas jolted abruptly awake to the smell of hot soup. He blinked slowly for a moment, wondering what the hell kind of moonshine he must have drunk last night for him to be having this kind of hangover. But then he realized he was tucked into a warm blanket on a comfortable bed, and he realized he wasn't even in his own place. For a quick moment, he was very disoriented and blinked, trying to recall what had happened and why his body felt like someone had dropped a shit ton of rocks on him.
And then a throbbing pain shot through his arm when he accidentally flexed the muscle.
That's right. I got shot...
Groaning, he sat up in the bed, roughly pushing the covers away. He looked down and saw that he was missing his shirt and trousers, and all his wounds had been bandaged. He inspected his arm, lifting it up slightly and checking the location of the wound. The bandage was relatively clean with not much dried blood over the wounded area so he must have been healing for a couple days.
Lucas frowned.
That didn't make sense though. He and Maya had just passed out the evening before…
Wait.
Maya!
He looked around the cozy room frantically, but he couldn't see her anywhere.
"If you're looking for the blonde woman, she's down the hall. My wife is tending to her wounded nose in one of the bathrooms."
Lucas' gaze snapped to the source of the sound. An old man Lucas hadn't noticed was sitting in a chair in front of the door, calmly reading a book. There was a bowl of soup on the table next to him.
The old man chuckled and turned a page, "Although... there was so much blood in her hair Lila and I couldn't even tell she was blonde at first."
Lucas said nothing, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He subtly inspected the room, checking for his weapons or clothes anywhere nearby if he had to defend himself. He couldn't trust this man. What if he was one of Jed's lackeys? And then, a howl sounded from an area nearby, and Lucas looked towards the man in alarm. That had been Maya's voice just then.
"What the hell is happening to her?" he rasped out, his throat raw from lack of speaking for several days.
"I told you. She's getting her nose pushed back in place. Lila, my wife, didn't recommend it, but that young woman threatened to 'kick her ass' if she didn't fix it." The man said in mirth. "You both must have been through a lot. You were pretty badly scraped up when we found you."
Lucas tried to speak up, but his voice was cracked and rough. He cleared his throat, rubbing his neck and wincing from how sore it was. "We were being chased. Someone is trying to kill us."
"Yes, I gathered that from the extent of your wounds." The man replied. "It was either that or you had beaten yourselves bloody from fighting each other."
"…Is she okay?"
"Yes, thanks to you. You did well to remove that poisoned bullet before her blood was badly infected."
"Poisoned?" Lucas said in alarm, his teeth clenching.
The man nodded. "Traces of mercury. You saved her life."
"Will she be okay?"
"Only time will tell, but she seems to be doing quite alright as of now. She's a tough one, your gal."
Lucas let out an all-encompassing sigh of relief, leaning back against the wooden headboard and closing his eyes momentarily. Thank goodness. He wouldn't know what to do if Maya had died from her wounds. He wouldn't be able to face the Matthews ever again.
But now it was time for him to gather their stuff and head back. He had to finish this plan out. Otherwise there would be no point to all their struggles. He had to get back into town and find Billy. Billy had all the documents on him.
Lucas only hoped he was alive.
"How long have I been out?" Lucas asked, trying to gauge how much time had passed since they escaped.
"Almost thirty-eight hours. It was terribly difficult dressing your wounds with you being a deadweight."
"What?! Shit…" Lucas climbed off of the bed and stood up abruptly, "We need to go. I need to finish this."
And then his head reeled, and he stumbled sideways, hitting the wall and trying to catch his balance and stop the swirls dancing in his eyes. Something wasn't right. He felt entirely too dizzy.
Lucas gripped his head and stared at the old man, gritting his teeth dangerously.
"What the hell did you do to me?"
"We have given you a strong sedative so that you would not feel unbearable pain as you convalesced. You shouldn't be up. You are not in good health."
"I don't care." Lucas growled, holding himself up on the wall and slowly making his way to the door.
"You need to recover. It's not good for you to be moving around too much."
"Get the fuck out of my way. I'm leaving."
"Lucas, sit down!"
And Lucas froze, his gaze turning sharp and glinting as he glared at the man.
"How the hell do you know my name?"
Lucas would have preferred having his weapons with him, but if he had to fight this old man, he'd do it. He may have been a little worse for wear, but he could still fight.
Seeing that Lucas would not budge unless he explained, the old man sighed, closing his book and setting it on the table beside the soup.
"You're Lilli Friar's boy, are you not? Or I supposed Lilli Carson, since she married. You look just like her. Almost the spitting image, save for your eyes."
Lucas' breathing grew heavier as he stared at the man wide eyed, his mind circling a thousand thoughts at once. How did this man know his mother?
"How is your father? Last I heard, Jesse was going to start a long project to implement a new system of trade amongst towns. He wanted to build a railroad through your town." At Lucas' bewildered and still shocked expression, the old man chuckled and shook his head apologetically, "I apologize. My name is George Feeny. You probably don't remember me. You were but a three year old boy when I visited. Your father is my successor as mayor."
Lucas still stared at him a little slack-jawed at what the man had just revealed.
"You have really grown up, Lucas." Feeny smiled fondly, chuckling softly under his breath. "How are Lilli and Jesse? It's been several, several years since I kept up with any of the affairs of the town. I'm a bit of a hermit by nature, you see."
The image of his mother and father's bloodied bodies ran through his mind, and Lucas' breathing harshened.
"…My parents…they're…"
Lucas stared at his hands, swallowing thickly and trying to keep them from shaking as rage started to boil in his blood.
Jed.
He growled lowly under his breath. They had been so close. They had been so fucking close to killing the motherfucking mayor once and for all and he had blown it! He had endangered Maya, he didn't even know what happened to Billy, and there was a good chance Jed had already done his rounds and killed everyone they were associated with.
Goddammit!
Feeny watched the raw emotions travel through the young man's eyes. Frustration, anger, despair, anguish, desperation. He looked like he was two seconds away from tearing apart the entire room. What in the world had happened to him? When he'd met Lucas the little boy, he had bright, cheerful, undaunted green eyes. So why were Lucas the man's eyes contemptuous and filled with rage?
"Lucas, you need to eat something." He said finally, standing up and gently pushing the scowling young man back so that he was seated on the bed.
Lucas sat down calmly, deep frown still heavy on his face. Feeny handed him the bowl of soup, and Lucas took it gratefully. For now, Feeny would drop the questioning. Clearly, Lucas wasn't in any position to be speaking at the moment. The violence and turmoil in his thoughts were showing on his face, and Feeny knew that whatever was going through the man's mind, needed to be pondered alone.
"Don't worry about what I asked you. When you're ready to talk, I'll listen." Feeny moved the chair and opened the doorway, "Lila will be in with some towels so you can wash."
Lucas nodded as Feeny left, his mind drifting back to his dark and dangerous thoughts. He'd finish up in this place and then he would leave immediately. He didn't have time to waste here. He had to find the mayor. He had to kill him. Not just for his parents now. But also for Maya. And for Billy. And for Katy. And the Matthews and everyone else Jed had fucked with.
After he finished off the soup, Lucas peeled the bandage slightly off of his arm and cringed as the fabric stuck to the healing skin, painfully tugging on the open wound. Thankfully, there wasn't any pus around the wound. It had been cleaned thoroughly and looked like it was on a good path to healing. It was in good enough shape that he deemed it usable.
There was a knock on the door and then it opened up and an old woman walked in with a couple of towels in her hand. She smiled kindly at Lucas when she saw he was up and about.
"You're looking much healthier today. You were quite pale for a while there. I think you ran a fever one of those days." she handed him the towels. "There is a bathroom beside this room. Water is already in the tub if you would like to wash."
"Thank you." he said, taking the towels.
"If you need anything, feel free to holler."
"I will, ma'am."
She turned to leave and Lucas was left in solitude once again. He stood up slowly so he wouldn't get dizzy again and stretched the soreness of his arm out.
His resolve was set.
Once he got back to town, he would shove his father's pistol down that motherfucker's throat and pull the damn trigger.
Even if he had to die to do it.