3
Guilt and Sorrow
When Carrie touched a hand to his face he looked into eyes identical to his own, his anguish mirrored in hers. She said nothing for a moment as her eyes flicked over his clothes, his hands, and fresh tears welled in her eyes. Somehow Carrie managed to push them away.
“Do you want to have a shower?” she finally asked him.
“I … yeah, I guess.”
The water was too cold but he didn’t care, the physical pain numbed his torment, albeit slightly. He washed his hair, three times, while the blood on his hands and arms didn’t seem to fade. Scrubbing his skin raw helped with the pain too. Guilt and misery overwhelmed him as the icy water cascaded over his body. He stuck his face into the chilly spray, hoping to wash away the lifeless face of his mother. The gaping holes which were their throats and the blood, so much blood, which he now couldn’t wash off his skin.
Carrie was in his room, sitting on his bed; waiting. She too had changed clothes. Her eyes remained fixed to the floor as he hastily dressed with whatever he could find on the floor and sat beside her. Her gazed lifted and she took one of his large hands in hers.
“You’re freezing,” she whispered. He shrugged. “I’m so glad you’re alright. If you had been there too ...”
“If I had been there, this might not have happened. I could have done something. Instead I was out getting laid.” He shook his head.
“This isn’t your fault, and if you had been there ... I don’t want to think about it. This is bad enough, but if I’d lost you too ...”
“I was late, Carrie, too busy taking care of my own needs.”
“I’m glad you were.” They sat in silence for a moment. “So how was it?”
“How do you think? The blood—”
“Not that,” she cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it unless you need to talk that is. I meant with Stacy.”
“You’re seriously asking me about this now?”
“I would rather talk about something, anything else.”
“Well, I guess it was everything I hoped it would be and more. Special, better than I could have imagined.” A crooked grin surfaced but it faded immediately. “I won’t ever be able to think of it again without remembering what was happening to ... them. The best and worst night of my life all rolled into one.”
“It’s late, Lucky,” she told him, using his childhood endearment. “You should get some rest.”
“Will you stay?” His voice cracked and tears stung his eyes.
She nodded. They held each other through a restless night’s sleep.
The doorbell woke Lucas and interrupted his dream. Carrie was still sleeping beside him, so he dashed off to answer it so it wouldn’t wake her. He ran his fingers through his hair as he rushed to the door. The bell rang again. Stacy stood on the other side. She looked fresh and beautiful as usual. Memories flashed through his mind. It seemed so long ago now everything had changed.
“I missed you last night,” she said. “You didn’t come back.”
“Ah, yeah, something came up.”
He couldn’t look at her now without feeling guilty. While his parents were being murdered, he was popping his cherry. Instantly Lucas felt an invisible guard rush up, something which had never been there before. He couldn’t be with her, not now, not ever. Alone was better.
“Oh, do you want to hang out today or do you have to help at the shop?” The words she’d so innocently spoken felt like buckshot straight into his heart.
“Um, no I don’t but I ... um, don’t think I can see you ...”
“Oh, okay. Are we still going to the movies tonight?”
“No.”
Her face screwed up in the adorable way it did when she was confused. His heart lurched but he pushed his longing and regret aside. His guilt would help him say the words.
“What’s going on, Lucas? You’re acting really weird.”
“I think it best if we don’t see each other ...” He couldn’t look at her. Her puzzled expression and pretty face would tear at the remaining shards of his heart.
“When? Today? Tomorrow? Will I see you on Monday at school?”
“I mean ever.”
“What are you saying?”
He lifted his eyes and regretted it. Her face scrunched up again, like it did when she was about to cry. His heart broke, he loved her so much but he just couldn’t, it was too hard.
“I’m saying ... I’m sorry but it’s over.”
It came out much harsher than he’d wanted it too. Her shock and hurt changed her expression; it looked like she’d been slapped.
“How can you do this after last night? I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me. Oh, I get it now! You got what you wanted and now you ...” She stopped. Tears smeared her cheeks with mascara and his guilt began to suffocate him. He was going to miss her. “What about at school? How ... we have classes together.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be going back, besides, we graduate next week.”
“Lucas, what’s going on? Are you all right?”
She took a step forward her face filled with concern. Her uncanny ability to always know how he felt, know when something was wrong, came into play and he realised he didn’t hide from her well enough. She’d always made it better before. Not this time. He attempted to make his expression blank and it appeared to work.
“I’ve decided to leave school early, and we’re done.”
He couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t see the hurt in her eyes and the confusion in her face so he shut the door and slid down to the floor with his back against it. Anguish brought his hands to his face and hot tears to flow.
“What the hell are you doing?” Carrie asked from the doorway, startling him.
“It’s better this way,” he mumbled through his hands.
“For whom?”
“Me, her, both of us. I have nothing left to give now and...”
She strode over to him and urged him up from the floor. His eyes were tormented and the amber glow had extinguished, to be replaced with dark broodiness. Carrie was afraid she’d lost her Lucky forever.
“Lucky—”
“Please, don’t call me that again. Ever.”
Their mother had given him the pet name when they were children. Lucas always managed to avoid accidents and injuries as a toddler, no matter how many things he leapt off from great heights or daredevil acts he attempted. Carrie suddenly realised he didn’t feel so lucky now.
“Lucas, pushing everyone away isn’t going to help.”
“What will, Carrie!” he yelled. “I should have been there.”
“And I told you, I’m glad you weren’t. How would it have been for me then, with no-one? We have each other and that is all we have right now. You’re lucky to have someone who cares about you, to support you.”
“I don’t want to talk about this with you. And don’t call me Lucky!” He stormed to his room and the door shut with a resounding bang.
When the doorbell rang again, Carrie hoped it was Stacy returning, having seen through Lucas’ tough facade, however, she was greeted by two detectives instead. The older man, perhaps in his forties, was medium height with an athletic build and kind brown eyes. The younger man, in his late twenties, was tall and lean with striking blue eyes. His hair was blonde and curly and under normal circumstances he would have been just her type.
“Good morning,” the older one began. “I’m detective Monroe and this is detective Willis. We’re sorry to disturb you during your time of grief but we need to ask you some questions.”
“Come in. I don’t really know if I’ll be much help ... this is all such a ... shock.”
“We know how difficult this is for you, miss, but we need to speak with you and your brother.”
“It’s Carrie. Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll get Lucas.”
For the first time in a long time or perhaps ever she knocked on his door. Doors were never closed in the Hudson household. Now, along with their parents, openness had gone too.
“What do you want?” He asked her once she entered.
“There are detectives here who need to talk to us.”
With a reluctant sigh, he climbed from his bed, his face a mask, his footsteps slow. She followed him down the hall towards the sitting room, preparing herself for the ordeal she was about to tackle. Not only would she have to hear the details of their parent’s murder, but would have to relive them as Lucas did, see the gruesomeness through his eyes. She had to be brave for them both now. Lucas was her little brother and she had to be his strength.
Lucas perched on the edge of the couch, his eyes downcast, his hands clenched and his jaw tight. Carrie wondered what he was seeing at that moment. Courage, Carrie.
They waited.
“Perhaps we should ask what we need and leave you to it,” the older detective stated.
Carrie nodded.
“Lucas.” The detective waited. Lucas raised his head. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“No, I wasn’t there.” Carrie could see Lucas working his jaw.
Suddenly aware that he was barely keeping it together, she shuffled along the couch to sit closer to him. She placed her hands over his taut fists clamped together in his lap.
“Can you tell us what you did see?”
Lucas looked down again before he spoke. “I was late, I’d been...at my girlfriend’s. I suppose I got there around nine thirty. They didn’t answer when I called out. Only the light in the front of the shop was on and the back storage room was dark. I felt something...sticky on the floor and that was when I noticed the smell ...” He paused. Carrie’s heart constricted. “I saw something behind a stack of boxes, and as I got closer, I realised it was Dad’s feet. He was on the floor, so I bent down to touch his chest but knew he was ... gone. All I wanted to do then was find Mum. I went out the front, to find the shop trashed, and the cash register open, along with the safe. There seemed to be a lot of stuff missing too. I walked around, behind the counter and she was there, on the floor. This is where the police officer found me.”
“Did you touch or move anything?”
“Only her ...”
“Is there anything you can remember besides the missing items that looked out of place?” Lucas’ jaw clenched tighter again.
“I think he told you everything he remembers,” Carrie told the detective. Lucas couldn’t do this much longer.
“All right, we’ll leave you to it. If he thinks of anything or wants to talk some more, give me a call.” He dropped his card on the table. “I’m really sorry for your loss. Would you like me to keep you updated on the case, let you know how we’re going?”
“No,” said Carrie.
“Yes,” said Lucas.
“I wasn’t sure whether I was going to pass this information onto you or not, but ... this isn’t the first incident. At the other scenes there was little evidence and nothing to go on. We’re hoping to catch a break.”
“Catching the punks who did this would be better,” Lucas muttered through clenched teeth.
“We would like nothing more. Thanks for your time.”
When the detectives left, Lucas seemed to relax slightly. She lifted her hand to touch his face again.
“I’ll take care of everything, little brother,” she assured him.
He offered a pained crooked smile before disappearing to his room again.