Blissful Devastation (Leighton Lock Chronicles #1) (4 page)

“No, not happening, Angel.” I tell her, climbing in the bath
behind her. “I have things to do, I can't have you distract me anymore, not
until I’m home tonight.”

I spend the next hour, massaging her muscles, her feet and
massaging shampoo into her hair. I love the tiny sounds of appreciation she
makes when she’s relaxed.

“We are prunes now, baby, we need to get up.” I climb from
the bath, water pouring from my body and back into the tub. I wrap a fluffy
towel around me, collecting the other for Josie.

She lies down quickly, covering her shivering body with
water. She re-emerges, wiping the water from her face and eyes, before using
the bath edge to stand up. I wrap the towel around her before lifting her from
the bath and securing her feet safely on the floor. “Now, get in something, I’m
going to get ready for work and get going. I’ll be home as quick as I can.” I
kiss her as she dries herself off in the bathroom, I am already late meeting
Ant, not that I’m complaining about the reason I’m behind on time, because it
was truly brilliant, as always.

“Bye, Baby. Be safe. I love you.” She returns my kiss. I
bend and kiss our bump once, telling our son I love him.

“You too, I love you too baby.” I reply, kissing her once more
before leaving.

I rush getting changed into some jeans and a polo shirt,
slipping my shoes on before rushing from the house. I double lock the front
door, keeping her protected.

I drive my car to Ant’s, parking in his drive before
entering his house.

“Hey man.” I say as I enter the kitchen, Antonio sitting at
the bar sipping a coffee, as always.

“Hey, you ready to go over the plans?” I ask him, his head
lifting and wicked smile plastering his face.

“Aha, abso-fucking-lutly man, lets wipe this fucker out.” I
had vowed to not continue what my father started me doing, but there was one
more task to do before I stopped, one more job that would satisfy me and the
slight thirst I had for his blood.

My father.

Antonio and I have made a plan, a plan to rid the earth of
the person who gave me life, the person I now no longer considered a person,
let alone blood.

“Yup. So, Friday, all good for you?” I ask him, making
myself my own coffee from the pot sitting on the side.

“Yeah, all good. Maria is out for the night, so here is
free.” He smiles again, that malicious wicked gleam in his eyes. 

His sister, Maria, who is twelve, lives here with him. Their
dad had dies two years ago, leaving them without a carer. Ant is old enough to
take guardianship and owns his own place, so Maria lives here with him, working
through her school life and growing into a beautiful young girl. When she is
older, she is going to be breaking a few guys’ hearts, I assume.

“Perfect. Well, you get my dad here, he won't listen to me.
I’ll be here ready and then ‘auf wiedersehen motherfucker’.” I laugh at the
thought of my father dying. I am happy, overjoyed in fact, at the thought of my
mother finally being free of the monster, my younger brother and sister living
without fear of being beaten, myself and my fiancée able to live without my
constant worry of his backstabbing attack.

“Good fucking riddens, mate. He has fucked off more than
you, and I think it’s about time we ended this shit and got on with our lives.”
I raise my cup of coffee to him, clinking it against his own. Scotch would be
more apt for this kind of celebration, but it is far too early for something so
strong.

“Anyways, how you been mate? I haven’t seen you in a bit.” I
ask him, having been over a week since we last hung. He is my best friend, our
bond and friendship stronger than any other in this world. We have been through
everything together, and I mean everything. We have killed together, drunk
together, cried together, fucked together. We do everything as one, most of the
time. Josie isn’t one to complain, she more than likes Ant watching, sitting on
a chair in the corner, his greedy eyes on her as I fuck her tight pussy.

“Good, very good. How’s Josie?” he wiggles his eyebrows at
me, almost reading my mind with my current thoughts.

“Oh, she is
very
good.” I bite my lip thinking of her
taste, still lingering in my mouth as I sip my black coffee.

“Yeah, how was she this morning?” I know what he is
referring too, and he just loves hearing about everything, every tiny detail.

“Like always. Heaven. Tight and wet.” I tell him, not
needing him to get a raging boner when we are meant to be plotting my father’s
murder.

“Just once, god I wish I could feel that.” He moans aloud,
one hand under the counter the other still on his coffee.

“We pull this off with my old man, you can fucking join us,
okay?” I tell him, his eyes springing open in excitement.

“For real?” he asks like a child at Christmas.

“For fucking real, mate. Besides, I know she won't mind,
she’s always hinting to have you join us, she is a kinky fucking bitch.” I
explain to him, replaying the continuous conversations we have, after Antonio
leaves.

“Now, that’s a thought to play with. We are pulling this
off, Leigh, there is no way I’m missing this opportunity.” The smile on his
face is heart-warming. I love seeing him happy, having seen him in some the
deepest darkest moment he has endured, it is a breath of fresh air to see him
living and breathing again.

“No, you certainly do not want to miss how she feels, she
will ruin you for anyone else.” I watch as he groans again, his eyes rolling a
little.

I watch him shake his head, visibly clearing his erotic
thoughts of my fiancée. “Okay, no more distractions, lets sort this out.”

It is Tuesday now, we have three days to get this perfect
and ready for Friday evening. On Friday my father would walk in to the best
fucking trap he ever did, he will get a taste of the pain he causes others. I
will wallow in the feeling of seeing his ice cold blood drain from his lifeless
body and relish in the power it gives me. Then Antonio and I, will dispose of
him, then go to mine, and fuck Josie, together as one.

“Bring it on, motherfucker.” I say, laughing into my coffee.

****

I leave Ant’s around seven, the darkness creeping in around
me as the sun sets in the horizon. I text Josie to let her know I’m on my way
before getting in my car and driving home.

I am thrumming away, tapping my hands on wheel to guns ‘n’
roses as my phone rings. I answer it, holding it between my ear and shoulder as
I drive.

“Mr Lock?” somebody asks me, through the speaker.

“Yup.” I answer simply, trying to concentrate on the road
and my happiness.

“Mr Lock, are you seated?” they ask me, making me laugh at
the bizarre question.

“I'm in my car, driving, so yeah, I’m seated. Why what’s
up?” I turn the stereo down, November rain dwindling in the background.

“Could you please pull your car over, we have some things we
need to talk to you about.” I scrunch my brows together, becoming more confused
as the words filter through my head.

“Sure.” I indicate and pull over onto a parking area on the
country road. “Right, shoot.” I tell him, putting the car in neutral and apply
the hand break.

“Mr Lock, do you know Josie Carter?” they ask me.

“Yes, she is my fiancée, why has something happened?” I ask
them, my mind already running a million miles an hour.

 “I'm sorry to tell you, Mr Lock, Josie Carter has been in a
car accident. She in hospital.” My blood turns cold, my body in shock. His
words penetrate through me, a million questions running through my head, none
able to be verbalised.

“Mr Lock, are you there?” they ask worriedly.

“Y-Yeah. What do you mean she’s been in a car accident. She
doesn’t even drive?” she shouldn't have even left the house, but if so she
would have walked, she hasn’t been on the driving side of a car before.

“She was hit by a car outside her home, a hit and run,
another neighbour found her in the road and called 999.” They tell me.

I feel sick, I open my car door, a speeding car bibbing as they
nearly knock the thing off as they drive past.

I run to the grass verge and empty my stomach contents, my
mind imaging horrific images of my fiancée.

“What hospital is she at?” I ask quietly, my heart crushing
violently in my chest. I can feel tears welling in my eyes and I try to put
them at bay, to prevent them from clouding my vision so I can get to Josie as
quick as possible.

“Broomfield’s. She is in ICU, so go straight there and tell
them your name. A doctor will come and speak to you of her condition. I'm sorry
Mr Lock, truly.”  They hang up and my soul is left destroyed, I don't know how
I feel.

I swallow my sadness and despair and drive the country road
of Chelmsford, to the hospital. In ten minutes I arrive, having sped far too
quickly through the Essex roads.

I park my car, over two spaces in the car park, before
running to the building they told me Josie is in. I bang on the desk when I
arrive to an empty station, desperate for someone to come to me, I need her, I
need to know she’s okay.

“Hello, can I help you?” a older woman asks me, coming out
of the office behind the desk.

“Yes, my fiancée, Josie Carter, she was brought in earlier,
she was in a car accident. I was told she is here.” I ramble out, a little
aggressively.

“Yes, Mr Lock, isn’t it?” she asks me, smiling. Smiling?
Like seriously, my future wife is in ICU and the woman is smiling.

 “Yes, I'm Leighton Lock, now please, where is she?” I
request, trying to keep my temper at bay, I didn’t need the demons to come out
now, it is not the time or the place for it.

“She is in ICU, Mr Lock. Please come with me, wait in the
family room, I will get her doctor to come and speak to you.” She smiles more
sympathetically this time and it makes me curious as to why.

“Ok.” I follow her, almost pushing her along as my feet
stalk the floor.

“Just wait in here, someone will be down shortly.” She
leaves me in an empty, white walled, room. I pace, and pace, staring at the
blank walls, staring at the clock, clenching my fists and holding in my tears.

Please god, someone just come now.

The door opens and I swing my body around to approach the
person entering. “Mr Lock?” he questions me.

“Yes. Josie, please tell me she is ok.” I beg him, almost
pulling my hair out in frustration.

“Mr Lock, please take a seat?” he instructs me, my stomach
turns and I shake my head at him.

“No, please, no, please, don't tell me.” I beg him, falling
to my knees in the waiting room.

“Mr Lock, i'm sorry...” he begins to say but I cut him off.

I stand from the floor and get into his face, his body
cowering under my murderous gaze.

“Don't fucking say it.” I warn him, my teeth gritted and
eyes boring into him.

“Mr Lock, your fiancée is on life support, she has severe
brain damage. We tried to sort it in theatre but there was too much damage
there. I'm sorry to say, but your fiancée is medically brain dead. She will not
be waking up. I'm so sorry. If you want to see her, we can take you to her.” He
tells me, but my body is numb, my hearing foggy and my sight virtually
nonexistent as streams of tears fall from my eyes.

I hear the door close behind me, and I let myself break,
more than I already am.

I will never hear her voice, feel her touch, hold her, see
her smile and the twinkle in her eyes. I will never have my Josie, marry her
and be with her for eternity.

Right now, this moment in time, I feel dead, cold and icy, a
nonexistent man, dead and buried along with Josie, my soul mate.

I'm sitting here, the machine attached to Josie, pushing her
chest out, then sucking it back in.  Countless wires are attached to multiple
points on her body, triggering bleeps and lines all over screens around the
room. I was here, watching my beautiful girl, dead, but I’m not really here.
I'm somewhere else, my soul already in heaven with hers, because it was as good
as dead anyway.

Beside me, in a small plastic crib, lay my tiny premature
son. He should be in the baby ICU, but they brought him here, so I could be
with both of them. They had managed to get him out of her before her body completely
shut down, but he is so weak and frail, all one and a half pound of him. He is
also, like his beautiful mother, attached to countless machines, unable to
breathe on his own. They say its very touch and go with him, the truth of the
matter being, I might also lose him.

My world is upside down on its head, my heart non-existent,
my body shutting down itself. I don't want to be here, I don't want to live
anymore. I just wish I had stayed at home, not rushed out to get to Ant’s
earlier. This is my fault, if only I hadn’t rushed and thought about killing my
father so much.

I had everything I could ever need, sitting right in front
of me. I had an unbelievable woman and a gorgeous baby on the way. Now, he is
here, with tiny feet and tiny hands. Drips and wires feeding him the things he
needs to survive. I don't know what I’ll do now, even if he survives, how am I
supposed to cope with him, bring him up the way we had planned too. I'm nothing
without her, there is no way on this earth I can be the dad this baby needs
without her guidance and strength, I can't survive without her, so there is no
way I’ll be strong enough for the both of us.

My hand is holding hers, her body cool to the touch.

She is dead.

My Josie. Dead. Gone.

I have no one here, no one to help me. I need the support of
my family right now, but they aren’t even aware of where I am. I feel inclined
to call my sister. Georgia has always been close with me, like my best friend.
I have spoken to her since I left, called and texted to see how mum is and how
her and Brandon are coping. I need her.

Josie’s eyes lay closed, her feather like lashes softly lay
against her colourless cheeks, her lips cracked and broken, dry from their
forced opening for her tube to go in. Her face is bruised, her body battered.
I'm surprised my son, is even alive. From the marks on my girl, how he isn’t
harmed, I don't know.

I feel like giving up, just not bothering anymore. What is
the point, there is no hope or happiness at the end of the day. We all end up
alone, everything we love and cherish ripped from us.

“Leighton, sweetheart. Can we get you anything?” a nurse
asks me, walking into the room. They took her observations, not that they
needed to. She isn’t alive, she is dead, just her body being kept functioning by
machines and computers. She doesn’t have her thoughts, memories or personality
anymore. I am staring and holding onto a shell, somewhat similar a home ruin,
something that once housed everything somebody loved. All the memories a family
holds, now laying in crumbled rocks and shrapnel. That’s Josie, my beautiful
Angel, literally. She always was my angel, but now it is true.

I shake my head slowly, still clasping to her. “No.” I
answer quietly, looking to the floor.

“Okay, sweetheart. If you need anything, just ask us okay?”
the young nurse says. I nod my head and listen as she fiddles with my son in
his crib, checking his observations. “He is doing okay, Leighton, I think he
might be strong enough. We just have to have faith and strength okay. You have
to stay strong.” She tells me and I huff.

“Yeah, faith.” I reply sarcastically, but not nastily. I
have no faith in anything, anymore. I’ve been sitting here for eleven hours
straight, watching the raising and lowering of Josie’s chest as she is
artificially kept alive, and the same process of my tiny little child. I feel
selfish being here, being able to breath and live normally, it isn’t fair.

Josie has always been so kind and caring. Me? I’ve killed
people, relentlessly and without remorse. Fuck why she was dying, I was
plotting my father’s fucking murder. It should be me lying there, dead. Not
her, it should never have been her.

“Josie, baby. Please, just wake up, let this all be a dream.
Tell me you are at home safe, cooking me dinner, rubbing your belly as our son
kicks, waiting for me to come home and kiss you and hold you and love you.
Please, I’m begging you, please, baby, please, don't do this to me, you can't
go, you can't leave.” I burst into tears. I slam my fists into the mattress,
next to her, trying to expel some of my emotion. My rage, self-hate, despair,
loath, heartbreak and pity.

My eyes are sore, my cheeks wet and my heart crumbled. I lay
my face onto the sheets, my head next to hers as I cry for my loss. I rub my
hand over her empty belly, gazing as her breasts rise and fall once again.

I feel a hand soothing my back gently. “It’s going to be
okay, Leighton. Sometimes bad things happen. But we have to focus on moving
forward. I know it seems like there is no future right now, but you have your
son to look after as well now. You can't give up.” She tells me soothingly and
I want to smile, I'm happy I have one positive thing from this, I could have
lost them both, but at least he is here, but right now, the thought of using my
facial muscles to smile, seems disrespectful and I hate the thought of being
happy even for a second.

“I’ll leave you to be, but you should really call someone.
You need your family here at this time.” The nurse says. There are only a few
people I’d want to see right now, one being my mother, the others my sister and
best friend. No one knows what’s happened to Josie. She hadn’t any family of
her own, so there is no one to call on her side.

“Call my mum, have her and my sister come here, please.” I
tell her, ready for somebody to hold me, maybe draw some of my pain from me and
experience it for themselves.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. You want me to say what’s happened
or just ask them to come here.” I can't bear the thought of having to tell them
she was gone, I’d rather they know when they get here, so they can support me
straight away.

“Tell them, but I don't want my father or brother here.” I
explain to her, returning my attention back to Josie.

“Of course, Leighton. I’ll call them now.” I hear the door
close behind me, the bolt clicking into place quietly.

I’ve hardly looked at my boy, finding it too hard to know he
is so tiny and weak. It’s hard enough having to sit here with Josie, let alone
my baby.

I take a look over to really see him. He is minuscule, his
head only the size of my palm, his hair dark and thick on his head, his eyes
closed. His feet are the size of my knuckle, each with ten incy wincey toes on.
I feel inclined to put my hand in there, into his incubator to touch him. I
push my fingers through the whole on the side, reaching to gently stroke his
face. I don't know if I’m allowed, but I do anyway.

“Hi, son.” I say quietly. I turn myself to face him, as I
move my hand down to his hand and his fingers move slightly to hold one of my
own. A tear trickles from my eye, my free hand rushing to wipe it away.  “Mummy
isn’t going to be around when you grow up, but don't worry, you’ll know who she
is, we will talk about her every day. She was incredible, the most beautiful
woman there ever was. She loved you, so much, she would be so happy you’re
alive. We are going to make it, me and you, we can do it, for her. Josie, your
mummy, she wouldn’t want us to give up. Me and you are going to be a family,
with the beautiful memory of her to guide us. I can't say I’ll be the best dad,
I’ll try my hardest, but I know I will fail sometimes, probably quite often.
However, you will have to be patient with me. I love you.” I say for the first
time.

“Oh, Leighton. Babe, who are you talking to?” I hear my mum
say behind me. I turn abruptly, pulling my hand from the incubator. She takes a
look at the crib from the door, then runs off. Georgia runs in a second later.
Her hand slaps across her mouth as she takes in her nephew in the plastic bed,
then her face breaks as she see’s my fiancée strung up to machines and
soulless.

“Leighton, she is going to wake up.” Georgia tells me,
coming to my side. “Is that, is that my nephew, are you a dad?” Georgia asks
me.

I look to her with my blotchy sore eyes and nod my answer.
“Wow.” She exclaims gasping at him. “He is so tiny, Leighton. Is he okay?”
Georgia is still young, unable to comprehend what is happening. She still
believes everything in the world is easy and dandy.

“He is very small, very premature. He is weak Georgia, they
don't know if he will even survive, sweetheart.” I begin to cry again, standing
up to brush myself off a little.

I feel my sister’s arms around me, pulling me to her. She is
behind me, my back to her front, her cheek to my back as she comforts my hurt.
“Leighton, it’s going to be okay.” She says again, and I snap, unwittingly but
probably needing to.

“NO! NO IT’S FUCKING NOT GEORG. MY FIANCÉE, MY FUCKING JOSIE
IS DEAD. MY SON, MIGHT DIE, MY FATHER IS FUCKING CUNT, MY MOTHER JUST RUN OFF
WHEN I NEED HER THE MOST AND YOU, YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE ABOUT LIFE, AND HOW
BAD IT CAN GET!” I scream loudly, Georgia remaining straight faced the entire
time, her eyes water a little but she remains calm.

I drop to the floor, submitting to my weakness. Facing the
truth is the hardest thing to do, and I don't want to, but it has to be done. I
wonder to myself how long I’ll keep her attached to the machine, how long I’ll
keep her alive for my own fucking benefit.

Once again, my sister falls to my side, she pulls my head to
her shoulder, cradling my head as I weep into her shirt. “Shhh, Leighton, let
it all out, babe, let it all out.” She strokes my hair with one hand and my
back with the other. “I’m here, I’ll always be here.” Georgia exclaims.

I sit on the hard floor for over an hour, crying and
releasing everything. It felt good to have her here, looking after me for once.
I can't be strong, not at the moment, I need someone to keep me standing at the
moment.

“Feel better?” she asks me as I finally raise my head. I nod
to her, smiling weakly.

“Good, now off the floor, my butt hurts.” She makes me laugh
lamely, but it comes out.

“So, brother of mine, why was I not aware Josie was
pregnant?” Georgia asks me a little offended.

We had decided we didn’t want anyone knowing until the baby
was here, my family wasn’t exactly functional and I didn’t want anything
cursing this pregnancy. It was selfish not to tell anyone, but we didn’t care.

I shrug my shoulders at her, “Didn’t want anyone knowing,
but, well I guess you know now, hey.” I sit back in my chair, putting my hand
through the crib to stroke my son’s hand.

“He is going to be beautiful, Leighton. Do you have a name
for him?” she asks me, and I smile at the thought.

“I have an idea, but I don't know. I want to name him after
Josie, so I was thinking Joseph, maybe Joseph Leigh Lock.” I smile a little
stronger this time, wanting to pick my baby up and hold him, but he is far too
small to do that.

“That’s perfect, so perfect. You’re going to be okay,
Leighton. She would want you to be strong and keep going. She wouldn’t want you
to be sad and lonely. I know it has been a day since it happened, but you need
to think positive.” She tells me and I look across to the bed again, my Josie
still looking the same. Still open mouthed and artificially breathing.

I sigh my sadness, wishing I could go back in time and stop
this from happening.

“You have to let her go soon, Leighton. It’s not fair on
you, or your son, to keep her here. She needs to be put to rest. It’s the only
way you’ll move on.” I know she’s right, of course she is. And the longer and
more I look at Josie, the more I break and the harder I fall. I need to be able
to remember the way she was yesterday morning, not how she looks now, all
busted up, bruised and dead.

“I know. I will let her go, it’s just so hard to think I
won't ever see her again. That she won't be there anymore.” I tell my sister,
wiping a stray tear as I think of my future.

“But she will be here, Leighton, all angels are. You and
Joseph will see her every day. Just looking at him you will see her, see the
beautiful life you created.”

“Okay, yes, okay. Please get the doctor.” I tell her, ready
to do it. It is bad that after only one day I can end her life that easily, but
in theory she isn’t alive, and there is absolutely no chance she will return.
Her brain has shut down, the only organ that runs the entire body. A computer
wouldn’t work without a motherboard, the same goes for a human. Our brain is
our motherboard controlling everything our beings do. My Josie is gone, and
it’s time to let her vessel go too.

“Mr Lock.” A doctor says as her returns with my sister.

“Hi. Erm, I would, I’d like to turn off her life support
please?” I ask him, looking at as I do.

“Are you sure, you can wait, there is no rush.” He explains
to me, but I know I would only be avoiding the inevitable if I waiting.

“is there any way she will come back to me, that the changes
can be reversed?” I ask, just needing clarification one last time.

“I'm afraid not, Mr Lock, once the brain shuts down and dies
it’s gone forever. Are you sure you want to do this now, you can wait?” he
informs me, but my decision is made just by his information that she will never
come back.

“No, I’d like to do it now, she needs to rest now. I need to
focus on bringing up our son, Joseph.” The name seems so right coming from my
lips.

“Okay. If you are sure Mr Lock. You are very strong and
brave. I admire you. You will make an incredible father.” The doctor tells me,
trying to keep me strong, but I know when she has been unplugged, like a
computer, I will break and I will need my friends and family.