Durability (The LockDown Series Book 3) (5 page)

“My dad, he was at the house. He was the one who shot me. Told me I deserved it,” I tell him blatantly. I have no emotional feeling now. I have had my cry, expelled my upset and now I feel nothing. I don’t care what happens now. I have fought in hell to get back here, but now my brain has shut itself off along with my crumbled heart. I have taken enough hurt in my life that I just don’t think I am capable of taking anymore.

“Abigail, he was in jail, are you sure it was him?” Leighton looks at me like I am crazy, and maybe I am, but I am a hundred percent certain it is him.

“Ergh, yes Leighton, I am not blind. I couldn’t forget his face even after years of trying,” I say angrily. Jesus, like I can mistake that arsehole.

“Sort the attitude out Abigail, your daughter is with that filthy bastard and your acting like you don’t fucking care. Where do you think he has her?” he asks me, getting into my face a little. I don’t know why, but it makes me laugh. I feel as though I am floating further and further away, flying above in the clouds. Jesus this is like some wicked high.

I laugh hysterically, I think the drugs are messing with me, but I feel fucking brilliant, I don’t care what life brings me now.

“You fucking bitch. Sort yourself out Abigail. I’m going home to find our daughter.” He storms from the room. I poke my tongue out like a petulant child at his disregard for me.

“Fuck you too,” I shout, causing every member of the medical team to look at me.

“Mrs Lock, are you ok?” the main doctor asks me as he comes over to check my observations.

“Fucking fantastic Mr Doctor, how are you doing yourself? What’s the weather like out today? I hope it’s sunny, I couldn’t bear to be in the cold. It’s cold now isn’t it, really cold actually. Could I have another blanket please? Ooh, yes, that’d be real nice. You’ll never guess what Doc, my paedophile father has stolen my daughter, oopsie daisy, oh and he did this to me. God what a weird world hey, I swear prisoners escape too easily these days. I should really go home and get her shouldn’t I. Come on up we get,” I ramble
giggling like I have taken shrooms. I try to get up, but I am seeing rainbow technicolor bright lights that are sending me flat onto my arse.

“Mrs Lock, please remain seated,” the doctor says pushing me back down.

“Oh piss off you party pooper.” I laugh again, moving my working arm to my face to see the weird kaleidoscope around it. “Hey, before you go, can you see it, look it’s beautiful; I wonder if I can buy this effect for my everyday life, it’s fun.” I chuckle girlishly again.

“We need to take her back down,” I hear the doctor tell someone else.

“Down under, g’day mate.” I try to say it in my best Australian accent.

“Prep her now,” I hear them say again and I feel hands touching one of my arms, injecting something through my drip.

“Hey, you shouldn’t touch me without Leighton’s permission.” I laugh again as I feel myself falling asleep.

“What you done this time Abigail?” I hear that sweet little voice of my best friend, Angel.

“Where are you silly bum?” I ask her, twirling around trying to find her.

It is bright here, white lights from every direction blinding me. I can feel a softness beneath my feet that makes me want to flop down and roll around in it. It is warm and comfortable here, so much better than that shit hole under the ground.

“Shoulder.” I feel her tapping my head.

Oh that’s right, that one doesn’t work anymore. “Can’t feel there anymore, Angel.” I shrug one shoulder.

“It will get better; you just have to work for it. So what’s happened now?”

“It felt weird Angel, I don’t think I should have gone back. It wasn’t time. I was a bitch; I for sure need to be in hell this time. I laughed at Leighton when he found out where Mel was, god he’s going to hate me. I don’t know what was wrong, Angel,” I explain, feeling lonely and sad.

“I do. Your wound re-opened and started bleeding bad. You were losing consciousness and the lack of oxygen was making you delirious. You will need to make it up to him for sure, but Leighton is a big boy, he’ll understand.” She pats me, calming me a little.

“So, Angel, how the fuck do I get out of here this time? I can’t see a way with those fucking lights blinding me.”

“Ahhh, well, this is my land sweetheart, so let me deal with it this time. We just have to wait until the time is right this time. Sit, let’s relax and enjoy heaven.” I slump to the floor and flop my body out. The soft cloudy floor supports my aching muscles.

“I could get used to this; it’s far more comfortable than that poxy hospital bed you know.” I giggle as Angel chuckles aloud. She is so cute; I wish I could bring her back with me.

“So, your lessons; don’t get yourself in anymore trouble, and love your baby and husband when they both return to you.”

“Oh yes, I can’t wait to see them both. Do you think they’ll still love me, Angel? I am a pretty shitty wife.” I frown at my behaviour.

“Abigail Lock, it wasn’t your fault. Leighton will understand once the doctors explain what happened. He’s a forgiving man.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just want to see him now and kiss him and tell him I love him,” I sigh, heavily breathing in the clean heavenly air. I hope when I eventually leave this world I will end up back here.

“I know you do, and you will. Soon you will all be back together in that beautiful home of yours.”

“Yeah, home.” I smile as I close my eyes and allow myself to sleep on my cloudy temporary bed.

“Yeah, home.” The Angel
repeats as she wallows in her own home.

She won’t stop crying. Her high pitched screams bounce off the walls, her tiny body kicking out and flaying arms clinging to me with desperation.

I am dying inside as I realise the extent of what I have done.

“Fuck!” I shout, grabbing my hair tightly, now a little thinned with my age. This is my granddaughter, a tiny innocent little girl, and I have taken her from the protective arms of her mother, a mother who seems to care so much about her.

I know there is something wrong with me, why else would I have bothered tormenting and scaring Abigail for the last three months?

Eight years I have been inside, and believe me it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Losing my wife and soul mate had been a mere walk in the park compared to the continuous replays of my horrific behaviour and the way I had treated my own daughter.

What kind of father does what I did and gets to live to see another day? I sure as hell couldn’t live with the things that I have done. It is killing me slowly and violently inside.

So why am I now torturing myself further, sitting in our family home, with my granddaughter, having just stolen her from her father and mother, having shot my own kid? Maybe it will mean I’ll get to see her again at least once more before I am killed. That’s why I had aimed for the shoulder and not the head.

I acted like a deranged arsehole when she had finally seen me holding her girl; I had said some sick things, things I didn’t even think of anymore. And as I looked at my daughter's face and the horror and fright she portrayed, it broke my heart. I could have been in her life from day one, in her daughter’s life, being a decent father and grandfather, but the loss of my Penny, my beautiful angel, ripped me apart at the seams and allowed an animal to manifest inside me. A dangerous devilish beast who was sick for revenge, and still was until a gargantuan net fell from the heavens and captured me, giving me the ability to banish them all.

I am a conflicted man. I don’t know how to deal with everything at once. Seeing her alive and well, living the life I was supposed to be living with my own forever after, stirred a nasty jealousy and made all those bad feelings rush back once more. The feeling of utter hatred towards her, I know it isn’t rational, that it isn’t actually our tiny little girl's fault my wife had taken her life, but my brain couldn’t comprehend the right from the wrong and this seems to be the only way to deal with the hate that had conjured inside.

“Shhh,” I say quietly as I hold my granddaughter, rocking her little body gently, the same way I had with Abigail as a girl, trying to sooth her gentle cries as she begs for her mother. “Oh Richard, you stupid fucking man,” I scold myself. I don’t deserve to ever touch another child again after the sickening things I have done to my own kid and even her friend.

I deserve to be strung up in the street and left for the dogs, that’s what I feel should happen sometimes, because I can’t deal with the guilt inside.

It will be near impossible to convince Abigail of my change in person. I am not the man I was back then, I would never ever lay a finger on a child ever again. The thoughts don’t even cross my mind. All I can think of as I hold my grandbaby was ‘gosh she is as beautiful as her mother was, I hope they protect her forever and always’.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” I say to the baby as I walk through the house, still bearing the photos and items of worth. Our hallways still covered in family photos, but the wallpaper and flooring dirty and scummy from my drugged up antics.

I sniffle back a tear as I look upon a photograph of Penny, myself and Abigail at about three months old. We were so happy, sure Penny had her issues but we were coping, she was coping. “God baby, I’m so sorry,” I say as I stroke my wife’s face, her happy smile looking back, but all I see is the disgust and utter rejection I know she will harbour after looking down upon my vile attacks on our girl.

“You were supposed to protect her, to keep her safe and loved,” I can hear her saying. At night, in my cell, all I could hear was her. Telling me how disgusting I was, how she wished I would die and rid this world of evil, how she wished she had never met me. It had changed me, forced me to confront the living Lucifer I was. At least he had loved his father, me... I would never get that love from my girl, I didn’t deserve anything from her.

It angers me to no end that I could have in fact ended her with that bullet, piercing her skin. The blood had been pungent and sickening in the air causing an unwanted gargle of vomit in my stomach as I looked at my daughter's dying body. That was it, the last straw of my humanity as I had easily shot the gun and torn through her beautiful flesh.

She has become something great, something stunning and pure. I want to castrate myself and jump from the closest cliff into the cascading violent waters below, just so I can give Abigail that chance in life again, that fresh start.

I have often thought of her as I lay incarcerated, often thought of her blue eyes and blonde hair, how she would look now, how she would laugh, if it would still hold that beautiful high giggle she had had as a toddler, if she has become something great. I suspected not, I suspected she had fallen to the pits after her horrendous life with me, her father, her protector.

I warm a jar of baby food in the microwave and perch the baby on my knee, her green eyes piercing and deep as they stare at me with beautiful innocence. She has calmed down, having gotten used to me a little.

I spoon a little food, feeding it to her.
Her mouth opens freely and her tiny lips clamp down on the spoon. She swallows it down and then smiles and jumps up and down for more. I spoon more into her mouth, her childish giggles and jumps warming my fucked up heart a little.

This isn’t fair; to be denying her mother the warmth and comfort a baby brings you. I miss this, miss my daughter being this young and cheeky. I had ruined her childhood from the moment her mother had left this world, blaming her and calling her vile names, hitting her and eventually taking that innocence a girl possessed that can never be given back.

I begin to cry again, my tears falling into her dark blonde curly hair. I hadn’t meant to scare Abbi the way I have over the last few months, leaving messages and taking her baby when she slept. I had just wanted to meet her and hold her before Leighton ended me, because I knew he would. And I’d go easily and willingly, I deserved to. I would die happy just having seen my daughter and granddaughter one last time, whether my daughter was dying or not I have seen her adult self.