LUCILLE II
Lucille’s eyes lit up.
“Move in with us? How?” She asked.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.
“I could marry your mother and be your father. Not like John, of course, but as your stepfather. I think it would help your mother, and I’d sure like to be here for you and little Mathew. But only if you want me, honey. Otherwise, I won’t even talk to Maryanne about it.”
Lucille smiled at him.
“That’s why you brought the flowers, isn’t it? Do you think she’ll really do it? Is there a chance?” She inquired, biting her lips worriedly.
“I think I can persuade her. The only time you get a break around here is when I have you on our training course. You’re getting to be quite a marksman, too.” Tyler replied.
“Marks person, Uncle Tyler,” Lucille corrected with a sudden teasing grin.
“And the other night in karate class I kicked Don Jacobson’s butt.”
The only time she found herself laughing anymore was when Uncle Tyler took her off to the Special Forces training area and they played soldier. Female or not, Lucille was becoming someone to contend with, and it made her proud.
***
Present day, 5:25pm.
The book was a mystery and well suited to the stormy evening. Tree branches were scratching the window, and rain drummed heavily on the roof.
The first time she heard the noise, Lucille thought it was her imagination, just because the book was so scary. Then she stiffened, and her heart began to pound. He was doing it again. She knew it. As quietly as possible, she crept out of bed and opened her door. The sounds coming from her mother’s bedroom were muffled, but she heard them all the same.
Her mother was weeping, pleading. And there was the distinctive sound Lucille knew so well. She had been in karate classes as long as she could remember. She knew what it sounded like when someone got punched. She ran along the hall to her brother’s room to check on him first. She was thankful he was sound asleep. When Tyler was like this, she hid Mathew from him. He seemed to hate Mathew at times. His eyes grew cold and ugly when they rested on the boy, especially if Mathew happened to be crying.
Tyler didn’t like it when anyone cried, and Mathew was soft enough to cry over almost every tiny scratch or imagined hurt. Or every time Tyler slapped him. In recent times, she had been tempted to run away with him. But how? She was still a minor. She couldn’t wait for her birthday in a few days. She was tired of living like this.
Taking a deep breath, Lucille went to stand just outside her mother’s bedroom. She found it so hard to believe that Tyler could be the way he was with her mother and Mathew. She loved Tyler. She had always loved him. He spent hours training her like a soldier, and everything in her responded to the physical training.
She loved the courses he set up to challenge her. She could climb nearly impassable cliffs and slither through minuscule tunnels in record time. She was in her element out on the range, firing weapons and fighting hand to hand. She could even track Tyler now, a feat most of those in his unit were unable to perform. She was especially proud of that.
Tyler always seemed pleased with her and very warm and loving toward her. She had believed Tyler loved her family with the same fierce, protective loyalty she did. Now she was confused, wishing her mother was someone she could talk with, reason things out with. Lucille was coming to realize that her stepfather’s easy charm hid his constant need to control his world and those in it.
Maryanne and Mathew didn’t meet his standards of what they should be, and he made them pay dearly for it.
She stood perfectly still as Tyler had taught her to do in times of danger.
Tyler had her mother pressed against a wall, one hand squeezing her throat. Maryanne’s eyes were bulging and wide with terror.
“It was so easy to do, Maryanne. He always thought he was so good, no one could ever do him, but I did. And now I have you and his kids, just like I told him I would. I stood over him and watched the life go out of him, and I laughed. He knew what I would do to you – I made certain of that. You’ve always been so useless. I told him I would give you a chance, but you just couldn’t manage it, could you? He spoiled you just like your daddy did. Maryanne, the little princess. You always looked down on us. You always thought you were so much better than us just because you had all that money.” He stated.
He leaned close so that his forehead was bumping Maryanne’s, and sprays of spit washed over her as he enunciated each word.
“All your precious money would go to me now if anything happened to you, wouldn’t it?”
He shook her like a rag doll, an easy thing to do, since she was such a small woman. At that moment, Lucille knew that Tyler was going to kill her mother. He hated her, and he hated Mathew.
She was bright enough to realize, even hearing something out of context, that Tyler had very likely murdered her father. Both of them were Navy SEALs and not easy to kill, but her father wouldn’t have been expecting his best friend to betray him. She could see her mother’s eyes trying desperately to warn her away. Maryanne was afraid for her, afraid if she interfered, Tyler would turn on her.
But then, there was a strong knock on the door.
Lucille took a deep breath, grateful for the intrusion, and quietly tiptoed back to the sitting room.
The beatings had stopped via the intrusion, she didn’t want Tyler to catch her eavesdropping.
Opening the door, whilst wondering who could be outside in this stormy evening, her eyebrows furrowed as her gaze met the lively green ones of a woman with a large mass of red hair which cascaded down her shoulders.
“Hello…” She said, as a form of greeting, expecting the strange woman to take over and introduce herself.
“Hi Lucille. My name is Sheila, and I am your mother.” The woman said, with a short smile, even as her green eyes moved from her face to something or someone behind her.
What the hell!