Wild with all regrets, p.14
Wild with All Regrets, page 14
“I have to be with Jamie! I can’t let him go alone! I have to fucking be with Jamie!” His voice cracked.
The others didn’t know what to do, and their eyes darted around like the flies that were coming for Jamie’s corpse.
Tears were running down Lucas’s face, and he scrambled to get Jamie’s pistol from where he’d thrown it earlier. He crawled along the ground like an insect, Jamie’s blood sticky and warm on his hand. Lucas just managed to grab it, pull it toward his face again . . . I’ll be there soon Jamie, wait for me, wait for me. But two other soldiers found their mettle and tried to wrestle the gun off him, and he’d lashed out so violently with it that he cracked the eye socket of one of the poor sods.
Eventually help came, and they were able to overpower him, perhaps his grief made him weaker. In retrospect, Lucas was lucky they hadn’t shot him right then and there. He woke up in the casualty clearing station with a sore head and an empty heart, awaiting medical and psychological evaluation. As soon as he was awake, he began thrashing around, striking out at the nurses and physicians who were trying to assess him.
“Jamie! Jesus Christ, I have to go back for him, we can’t leave him there, we can’t fucking leave him—he hated it here, he hated it so much! I promised him I’d protect him. I swore to him—I—!”
They had to sedate him and tie him down to the bed with restraints. He cried out in frustration, tears running down his face.
“Fuck you! Fuck all of you fucking cocksucking piece of shit motherfucking assholes! Let me out of here, I have to get to Jamie, I have to get him back . . . please . . . I promised him! I promised him!”
His mind was a blur. Jamie was breaking, Jamie was losing himself, No, Lucas was losing Jamie. But in that last moment Jamie had come back. He was himself; he was whole— was it a mercy? God damn it! He had to get him back. What had he done? What had—
He went limp as the sedatives took hold of his muscles. In his dreams, Jamie died over and over and over again. There were always screams in the night here, and Lucas couldn’t tell which were his. Time passed, he didn’t know how long he was there . . . the days were slipping together as there was nothing but grief to punctuate them.
He awoke with a start and found Angie sitting next to him, patting his hand.
“They told me you were here, Lucas.” He couldn’t bear to see the pity on her face as she stroked his palm with her thumb. “What happened?”
No one had been able to get a clear version of events, apparently, and certainly not from Lucas. At the moment, the official version was Murray had become violent and erratic, and Connolly had taken him aside to calm him down as he’d done a hundred times before. Murray was shot; Connolly lost it. The idea that Lucas had killed Jamie on purpose had never crossed anyone’s mind, it seemed. After all, why the hell would he do that? They were always together, they loved each other. It was no wonder that Lucas had snapped when the Lieutenant died.
“I . . . ” Lucas wanted to cover his face with his hand but couldn’t, as his wrists were both tied to the bed. He groaned in frustration, a small little noise that died in his throat. “Ange . . . Jamie’s dead,” he whispered, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
“Jesus. Lucas . . . ” Angela whispered, her hand covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“You can’t tell anyone,” he started, struggling against his restraints again as he tried to sit up. Angela undid the leather cuff and let him do as he wished. “You can’t say anything.”
“Okay, Lucas, I won’t.” Her voice was gentle, but he wasn’t sure he believed her.
“It’s like I told you before, he wasn’t all there, Angie, he was so scared, he was panicking, I thought he was going to shoot one of the men—” Lucas took a long, shuddering breath. “They’d hang him for cowardice if—if he . . . so I took his gun off him and . . . ”
And he was himself, and he was whole, and he knew peace. I had him. I had him fucking back and I couldn’t lose him again.
“ . . . and he couldn’t defend himself and he got hit.”
I shot him. I shot Jamie. I shot Jamie and his blood got on my face and I watched the life drain from his eyes and he’s dead and I should be dead with him. The words hammered at the back of his teeth, but he couldn’t say them. He felt like he needed to throw up.
“He went quick, he didn’t suffer. But I don’t want people to know his last seconds were like that. I don’t want anyone to think he was a coward— he wasn’t, just— he couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t protect him from his mind anymore.” Lucas lifted his hand from his eyes. “Little by little, he was losing himself.” And I was losing him, too.
Angela was quiet for a few moments. She cleaned her glasses as she considered what Lucas said.
“Are they going to shoot me?” he asked, his throat dry. “For treason? For disobeying a commanding officer? For . . . any of this?”
“No, Lucas. They’re not going to shoot you.”
His disappointment was probably obvious. He shut his eyes and felt the hot tears running down the sides of his face. “They won’t let me get his body. I’ll fight for them; I’ll do whatever they need I just— I need to get him back. He hated it there, Angie. He won’t be able to rest there.”
She took his hand in hers and stroked it. “The war is over, Lucas.”
“What? How is that possible? Who won? How long have I been here?”
“We won,” she informed him, as gently as she could. “You’ve been here less than a month.”
No. He covered his eyes, disappointment and rage crushing his heart into dust. Never in his life had he felt pain like this. Less than a month? If they’d just held on just a little longer, Jamie would have been— “No, no, no, no.” The muscles in his neck tightened, he banged his fist against the mattress. “Jamie . . . Jamie, I should have . . . ”
Angela climbed into the bed with him and cuddled up close, trying to ease the pain he was in, if only a little. “I know how hard it is. It felt so awful when Euan was killed. Grieve. It’s okay to grieve, it’s okay to feel like the world is ending.”
Lucas was not an overly affectionate person, but he curled into her embrace and let himself weep. Less than a month. If they’d just held out another few weeks, if Jamie had gone back for medical evaluation, if he’d been signed off— if Lucas had just been patient . . .
The war was over. The war was over, and Jamie was never ever coming back.
Lucas shut his eyes and Jamie’s face conjured itself up at the back of his eyelids, that confused little smile stuck on his lips, blood dribbling out of his mouth, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Every second since he’d woken up in the hospital had been haunted by his sin. Jamie was still alive and thriving in Lucas’s mind. And then just . . . dying over and over and over again.
Help me, Lucas. Jesus Christ, help me.
Lucas tried at times to figure out just what it was that had driven him to murder the only man he had ever loved. He didn’t consider himself very intelligent, and certainly had no business trying to dissect the psychology of his singular lapse in sanity. Was he trying to spare Jamie a court martial? Was it so black and white that he was guilty of the crime of cowardice? A death with dignity, a death in the arms of a loved one— was that the gift he had imparted? No. He knew for certain his ambitions could not have been as noble as that. As he moved into the darkest parts of his mind, the bile began to rise up in his throat and his head pounded. He couldn’t face this demon yet; his mind would fall apart if he tried.
Lucas cuddled into Angie’s breast, and she kissed the top of his head. His whole body was trembling, and he felt absolutely pathetic.
“It’s not your fault, Lucas. You spent the last two years protecting that man with everything you had. You couldn’t protect him forever; you couldn’t protect him from himself.”
Jesus Christ, Lucas. Help me. Blood running out of his eyes, his body heavy and cold, covered in mud, the skin rotting away, ribs poking through the hole where his heart used to be, he’s dead he’s dead and you killed him, you murderer.
“Ange. I can’t live like this. Get me a gun. Please help me die.”
Her body stiffened. “Lucas, I can’t do that,” she said, still stroking his hair. “You’re so young, Lucas. You’ve got so much to live for.”
He looked at her bitterly. “What? What the hell do I have?”
She met his gaze, her own eyes hard. “Your sisters, you asshole. And Matthew—he’s got it a heck of a lot worse than you do.”
Lucas was mortified. Of course, he had Angela, too. Christ, he was an asshole. He nodded and glanced away from her dark brown eyes.
“And your friends, the other boys in your squad who love you and would lay their lives down for you. Then there’s me, of course, the stupid bitch who can’t tell a lost cause when she sees one.” She smiled at him and brushed his tears away. “And . . . there’s Jamie.”
Lucas stiffened. “Watch it.”
“No one on earth loved him as much as you do. He’s alive in your memories, Lucas. The way he laughed, the color of his eyes, how he made you feel . . . it’s all there in you. If you kill yourself, he dies all over again with you.”
His suicidal resolve began to waver. Angela was right. Lucas’s whole face was dull and disinterested, but he nodded and threaded his fingers together with Angela’s. He didn’t deserve to be happy; he didn’t deserve to rest with Jamie. He deserved to live the rest of his life suffering— that was the price of his sin.
He’d live another fifty loveless, empty years if he had to. For Jamie’s sake, he’d endure.
1914
Lucas slumped home one night after work, his face swollen and a patch of dried blood dusting his lip. One of the other laborers had sucker-punched him in the nose over a misplaced hammer, of all things, and Lucas didn’t want to dwell on it too much. He plopped himself down on the couch and pretended to read the paper, not quite up for facing his flatmate. Jamie had of course been horrified to see the state of Lucas’s poor visage and wouldn’t stop badgering him about it all throughout dinner. Jamie cleared the table and moved to study, but Lucas caught him glancing at him again and again to the point of being annoying.
Lucas ignored him and tried relaxing. He shut his eyes and listened to the sounds of Jamie breathing, of his teacup hitting the table when he set it down, and of the soft sound the pages made when Jamie turned them. That would have been a perfect evening for him, really. Quiet, calm, safe. But it wasn’t meant to be, Jamie wasn’t going to let him have peace.
“Lucas, I’ve been thinking . . . ” Jamie paused and bit his lip as he always did when he was trying to make something a little less awkward. “Have you ever considered maybe going into a different line of work?”
Lucas shot him a glare. “No, Jamie. I love putting bricks in a line, I love working with a bunch of smelly drunks, I love getting hit in the face for saying the wrong thing to some jackass who reminds me of my father. Why do you ask?” He regretted his tone the second the words had left his mouth. Jamie hadn’t meant any damned harm. “I’m sorry. You know I can’t be picky.”
Jamie squeezed his shoulder and looked into his eyes tenderly. “I know. But listen, I was talking to the head of school today, they’re looking for someone to be the new custodian. I put in a good word for you. It’s a bit of a pay rise, the work is steady, safe— it’s mostly just keeping the grounds and classrooms clean, and you’re so good at that anyway. And we could walk to school together every day, I wouldn’t need to worry about you while you’re at work . . .”
Lucas had had a few close calls, not just with other coworkers but with unsteady working equipment, freezing temperatures, frequent injuries to his hands and back. He knew Jamie fretted.
“I just thought it would be a nice change,” Jamie concluded.
For heaven’s sake, Jamie. It was such a sweet, kind thing to offer but . . .
“Wouldn’t you be embarrassed?” Lucas asked, setting his own teacup down on the table. “For all your friends to see that you live with a caretaker?”
That was what mattered most to him. He’d work digging ditches or laying bricks for the rest of his life if he thought it would make Jamie happy.
“Of course not. You’re my best pal, I’m not ashamed of you. All my friends already know about you anyway; it’s not like you’re some big secret.” Jamie had finally managed to make a few decent friends since he’d started his studies. Lucas really, really didn’t want to create any difficulties for him.
He frowned. “They know you live with a working-class gutter rat who tried to rob you?”
“They know I live with my best friend, Lucas Connolly, who saved my ass when I moved to Dublin and has been nothing but a brilliant companion and asset to me ever since. They know that you can’t go to university, but that I think you’re a good person who deserves happiness. And they know that if any of them have a problem with you, I’m not going to spend time with them anymore.”
Lucas’s face must have looked quite touched, or moved, or confused, because Jamie moved across the couch and hugged him for a good long while. Lucas squeezed his eyes shut and enjoyed the embrace, silently hoping that Jamie couldn’t feel the way his heart had sped up.
Jamie pulled away and met Lucas’s gaze. Christ, Jamie’s eyes were so beautiful, they were like a bright summer sky, they were like the ocean on a clear day. Kiss me. You fucking asshole, kiss me. He wanted to touch his face, he wanted to cup his cheek in his hand and bring their lips together. He wanted to get fucked on this couch.
“So, what do you say? Shall I tell the head of school you’re interested?”
Damn him, damn everything about him! His bloody perfect easy smile, his stupid beautiful golden hair, his stupid gorgeous face.
“Yeah. If you’re sure you won’t feel weird about it, I’d really enjoy that. You’re right, it would be a nice change.”
Lucas never knew how Jamie managed to work little miracles like that, but he always could. Within a week’s time, his nose was more or less healing, and he had started his new job at Trinity College. His mother was delighted for him and saw it as quite a step up from his previous work. Lucas tried keeping away from Jamie for the most part, he really didn’t want to embarrass him, but Jamie wouldn’t hear of it.
His friends still kept an offensive distance from the surly newcomer, but Jamie didn’t really seem to care. They ended up eating lunch together nearly every day, and Lucas had never been happier. The work was easy, but he enjoyed it. He liked bringing order to chaos. He could take his time and focus as he gradually made the world more beautiful.
Still, Lucas worried that the cost to Jamie was too high. Jamie was supposed to be making friends and connections for his future career. Spending most of his time with a custodian was not going to help him one bit. So, when Jamie approached him with a novel social idea, he felt he could hardly turn him down.
“I’m meeting some of my school pals at a pub tonight, you should come! Andrew’s getting his girlfriend to invite some of her mates from the nursing school, so there’ll be loads of girls to choose from! Please? You’re gonna have to lose that cherry eventually anyway,” he said with a smirk.
Oh Jamie, if only you knew. Lucas sighed and nodded. “Do they know you’re inviting me?”
“Yup! I want them to get to know you better, I thought this would be perfect. I’ll lend you a nice jacket, we can head out together.”
Lucas was a little tense on the way to the pub. He wasn’t really sure how this was going to go. He’d do it for Jamie, but he wasn’t happy about it. They arrived and Jamie’s friends flagged them down, and Jamie treated Lucas to a beer.
Jamie introduced everyone, they awkwardly acknowledged one another, and Lucas watched the doors for a while, knowing the girls would be a welcome distraction.
“So, this is the famous Lucas, eh?” One of the lads broke the ice. “I’ve heard loads about you. Jamie tells me you guys met as kids. What was he like?”
Lucas glanced at Jamie, who gave him an encouraging nod. “Christ, he was just as stupid as he is now. About a thousand times cuter too, dunno what the hell happened to him. Time is cruel.”
That garnered a laugh, and three rounds of drinks later, they were all the best of pals.
He was quite enjoying himself by the time the women arrived in a pack and descended on the men. Jamie of course was the favorite, and the whole lot of them gathered around him first.
“Andrew, you didn’t tell us about this one!” a lovely buxom brunette protested, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m Maggie, hi.” She had pert tits and a nice ass, her eyes were a charming blue, and she was petite and adorable. She was exactly Jamie’s type and Lucas hated her for it.
“Hi, Maggie,” Jamie purred easily. “You know, there’s a very good reason why Andrew didn’t tell anyone about me . . . you see, I have a terrible secret.” He paused for effect; the girls were eating it up. “I’m actually a vampire. I have a terrible propensity to consume the innocent, and I have an irresistible attraction to necks.”
Lucas hated to watch this and was glad at least that his mates all seemed equally put off by his display.
“Really?” Maggie giggled. “I’ve never met a vampire before.” She tilted her head a little so her creamy white neck was more exposed.
“James Murray, at your service.” He pressed a soft kiss to the perfect skin and smiled. “You should be more careful, my sweet, vampires are very dangerous, you know.”
