Final LockDown

by Smith, A. T

  “Let him go, Leighton. Let him free.” I drag myself up tall, using every ounce of strength I have to stand up. I feel the energy return, the hurt and anger surfacing.

  I roar, like a mother-fucking lion. I bring my head up high, screaming at the top of my lungs. Everything I hold inside falls from me, the hurt, the anger, the frustration, slowly dwindling out of me. I allow myself a breather, allow myself to forget the self-hate for a while.

  “Finally,” I hear Marcus say proudly as he unshackles my wrists and ankles. I drop to my knees, bringing my hands up to my face.

  I cry.

  I allow the tears built inside of my body, to break free. They smother me, drown me in the fear I feel. “Well done,” he tells me, wrapping a blanket around my shaking body. He sits me down, leaning against the wall. His strong arms hold me to him, my head on his lap as he strokes the back of my head. “Cry, let it out, let him out. You are not that person, Leighton. You are strong and you are loving. Abigail needs you, so you need to fight. You are getting there, you are so close. Let him leave you, let him go.” Marcus whispers as I tremble and shake in agony.

  “I need her.” I cry quietly, wanting Abigail by my side. I need her, I need her warmth and her love to guide me, to keep me from falling.

  “I know, and she needs you too. But you need to be completely better before you go home. I am so proud of you Leighton. You are an amazing man, don't ever forget that,” Marcus tells me, hushing my cries and holding me into his comforting warmth.

  “How will she ever forgive me?” I ask him, my lips shaking with my tears.

  “She will forgive you the second she sees you. She loves you Leighton. She will be happy to know you are safe and well,” Marcus informs me and I calm a little, relaxing into his comfort.

  “Sleep now, Leighton. Allow the nightmares to go.” I feel my heavy eyes closing, everything overwhelming me.

  “I love you, Abbi,” I whisper as I fall, darkness surrounding me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four Abigail

  A month!

  It has been a long, dreary and depressing month for me. It has been thirty-one days since he walked away, leaving me sat in my hospital bed in utter despair. How do I even tell anyone or describe to them, the agony inside of me, the feeling of my heart slowly breaking, the cracks splitting under the unbearable pressure of everything? To wake up every morning, looking to the side of me to see if maybe he has crept back into the bed beside me and everything will be ok, or maybe this is all just some fucked up dream that I need to forget about.

  I am sadly disappointed as I awake every morning to the empty, cold crisp sheets, no crumples or wrinkles from his usual presence. My entire being is non-existent, my soul having escaped its vessel and probably wandering aimlessly through the never ending array of gases and substance that creates this earth. I’m not even close to finding myself again, finding the person who I am. Leighton is gone and I can’t, I refuse to accept the fact he isn’t coming back.

  Nobody has found him or seen him, he has gone off the face of the earth without so much as a tiny bit of evidence he was once here, other than the identical looking child he fathered, I wouldn’t even know he has ever existed in this world or the next.

  I have been putting myself through the paces at physiotherapy, desperate to get my arm working. There is no way, if he returns, I am going to be weak. I will show him how strong I am, how much I have fought to better myself, without his help. And maybe, just maybe there is a sick satisfaction in the fact I can possibly bust his cheek up with a nice right hook, courtesy of his training.

  My life had been hectic before, but now, with Maria about to pop, already suffering Braxton hicks and still a month to go, although docs think it won’t be more than a week, I am ready to pull every strand of my hair out to maybe feel some relief through the pain.

  It has been far too long since I have endured his gloriously painful touch and my body is aching with a strong need to feel his hand against my raw and sore flesh, to send those delicious throbbing bolts of pleasure through me, grounding me, reassuring me I am loved and he cares for me. I need that pain, I fucking need it and he is letting me down, making me suffer in the most horrendous way I know possible.

  “Snap out of it Abigail. If you are thinking about that prick again I will seriously stab you in the eyeballs. I’ve had enough of seeing you so caught up over him, he’s fucking gone, he’s left you to fend for yourself, and he can get fucked up the arse for all I care.” She strops out, she seriously has anger issues and I don’t think her hormones are completely to blame.

  “He’s my husband Maria, I can’t just forget about him in a month. A piece of me has died Maria, can’t you understand that?” I ask her, as tears I swore I’d never let surface again, fill my eyes.

  “Of course I can, it just infuriates me that he still controls you so much even though he’s god knows fucking where. You’re my best friend Abbi. No, scrap that, you’re my fucking sister and I know I speak for every one of us when I say that when I see Leighton I will break his dick and his fucking nose.” I can hear her giggling to herself behind me as she imagines the satisfaction she’ll get from that.

  I shake my head as I wash the few dishes up from this morning. She is a crazy bitch, but she is my crazy bitch. I often wonder, with a brother like Antonio and a father that I know a bit about, what had she actually seen as a kid? Was she included in their fucked up father/son assassination sessions?

  “Argghhh.” I hear a scream from behind, causing me to jolt and jump in shock. It is so out of the blue, sure she’s been grumbling and moaning a little from the false contractions but this is a little different. I look to her and she grabs her belly desperately. The bump is easily double my own during my pregnancy, if not more.

  “Just breathe through it Maria. It’ll soothe soon.” I guide her as I walk around the island in the kitchen to put Melissa’s dirty bowl in the sink to rinse it off with the last few remaining bits I have left to wash.

  She settles quickly, working through the agitating Braxton hicks. “Great, now I’ve fucking pissed myself.” She cries, embarrassed. I snicker trying not to laugh as it has been a regular occurrence for her, but it is no wonder with fifteen pound of baby plus fluid and placenta stuffed into her. “Could this be any more embarrassing?” she whines.

  “Not the first time, hey hun?” I laugh at her, remembering the many times she hasn’t made it to the toilet in time, the force of her little Rugrats kicking her uterus and bladder, causing her to urinate.

  “Ab, seriously, do you have something I could wear? I’m drenched. Argghhh, this sucks majorly, I need these two out ASAP or I might just die of humiliation. I swear, I don’t even know how those guys are still with me, I have been an embarrassing mess the last month.” I laugh at her circumstances, the fact that when Mel was born she was desperate for a baby, her hormones crazy trying to get the twins to impregnate her. Now, not so much. She hates it. I also laugh because she has been this crazy psycho bitch for more than a month.

  I turn from finishing washing up the breakfast things and walk around the island to where she stands. I jump back as the puddle on the floor catches my eye. “Maria, that’s not urine sweets, that's your waters,” I inform her and her eyes bulge, looking from the wet floor to me back to the floor.

  “Fucking finally.” She huffs out in relief before doubling over again, this time I know it is the real thing, the real contractions are attacking her insides and I can understand the pain she is going through. She begins to scream and cry at the top of her lungs. Tears spilling from her eyes.

  I bet she wishes they’d stay put for another week now.

  “Calm down Maria. I’ll call the guys. You go and get yourself in some dry clothes and I’ll bring the car round to the front, okay.” She nods and it is clear a contraction is taking its toll on her because she is puffing and becoming breathless already. I can see this labour is going to be hard on her and I am glad I will be present to keep her calm even when he
r boyfriends will most likely be panicking.

  “Please, Ab, don’t leave me.” She looks to me, begging me with those dark brown eyes, the same as Ant's, pleading for me to stay by her side. Her fingers dig into my arm as she holds on, working herself through her contraction.

  “I’ll be back in two minutes, I’m just going to run and get you some clothes to wear and call the guys, then I’ll drive you to the hospital. Sit down on the stool and don’t move. If another contraction comes, it shouldn’t, but if it does just work through it like we did just now okay. You’re going to be fine babe. Just think, soon you’ll have those two handsome little boys to cuddle and it’ll all be worth it, I promise you it will.”

  “Hurry, god it aches so badly,” she says as she rubs her huge protruding belly. The sentiment makes me sad and empty, missing the feel of my own daughter inside of me, the sad thought that if Leighton never returns I will never feel that feeling again. There is no way on this earth I could allow another man near me, nobody will ever match up or be anywhere in comparison to my husband.

  “I’ll be a minute Maria.” I run from the room, grabbing my phone on the way, dialling Brad as I run the stairs up to my room.

  “Abs, what’s up? We haven’t seen Leigh yet,” he informs me, before I say anything.

  “Get your arse to the hospital now, Maria’s in labour. We’re just leaving mine now, make sure a room is ready when we get there, she isn’t going on a ward, she goes private.” I rush out as my feet hit the stairs like a cannon, one after the other, a single purpose in mind.

  “Oh my fucking god.” He almost screams through the phone.

  “Now Brad, get your arse in gear, and where is your brother? Both of you to the hospital now,” I command them as I skid to a halt in my room, running into my closet to find my old maternity stuff, not like any of it would fit properly but it is better than nothing.

  “LUKE!” I cringe as my ears are deafened from Brad’s deep barrelling voice.

  “What?” I hear his twin’s voice. I tap my foot impatiently as I await their understanding.

  “We’re going to be dads; we need to go to the hospital now. Maria is in labour.” I hear the same foul language leave his twin's mouth as he acknowledges the seriousness of the situation. Shit is becoming real and I expect that scares the crap out of them.

  “Hospital now! Bring her bag she packed.” It is like I am their mother, but somebody has to take control, to get their arses into gear.

  I am glad for this happening right now, it takes my mind off of the fact I have no clue where my own man is. If I can help Maria get those babies into the world safe, I know everything will be good for a while.

  “Yes ma’am, we’re on it.” I know he will be saluting the other end, because that’s how they are.

  I flicker through the biggest of my maternity tops and trousers and pull a wraparound top and a pair of stretchy leggings from their hangers.

  I shove them under my arm as I run from the room. Distantly, I can hear Maria calling my name, loud and frightened, and it sends shivers through me.

  Something is not right.

  “Quick!” I hear her shout a little clearer as I near the bottom of the huge staircase.

  I skid to a halt as I enter the kitchen to Maria on the floor, her trousers off and her legs wide as she leans against the kitchen island.

  OH MY FUCKING GOD!

  This is not happening here, it can’t.

  “Maria, what’s happening?” I ask panicking, not that her position isn’t a complete giveaway.

  “I can feel them, I need to push Ab, fuck, I need to fucking push.” Her face is gritted as she strains.

  “Not yet, god Maria, not yet it’s too soon.” I am beginning to panic and it isn’t good, for her, me or those two babies. Melissa still sits in her highchair, her face firm against the tray as she snores away. I am grateful the food has done its usual job and made her tired.

  I use my phone to dial again, calling the boys once more.

  “How is she?” one of them asks as soon as they answer. “On my fucking kitchen floor wanting to give birth. Come here and call me an ambulance please, tell them she’s in labour and ready to push. It’s only been twenty fucking minutes, this cannot happen. I don’t know what I’m supposed to fucking do right now.” I am hyperventilating, I can already see what a big cluster fuck this is becoming.

  “Calm down Ab, just stay with her and if she really needs to push then you’ll have to deliver those babies yourself.” They hang up and then I look to my friend as I kneel at her side.

  “It’s going to be okay Maria, everything will be fine.” I breathe out a heavy breath as I try to settle my own angst.

  “So much pressure, fuck so much fucking pressure.” She really does have a potty mouth. The stream of extremities spilling forth would make a sailor proud.

  “I know sweetheart, just bear with me, and keep pushing through it. You’re doing so well.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, and fuck again. I have no idea where to start, but I have a strong inkling having her knickers off would help the process.

  “Maria you’re going to have to lift your bum up so I can slip your knickers off. I’m going to get a handful of towels and crank the heating up okay,” I tell her, and she lifts her bum from the hard floor a little so I can grasp the top of her cotton panties and draw them down her slender thighs and calves until they are discarded on the floor.

  “Good, well done babe. I’ll be twenty seconds. I’m going to the airing cupboard to grab the towels, scream if you need me.” She nods and breathes in and out harshly as a contraction overtakes her.

  I run from the room and along the hall to the cupboard. I grab a huge pile of towels and begin to run back towards her.

  I ignore the door as it opens and a huge shadow covers the hallway. I ignore the stranger as he stands in the doorway calling my name. I ignore the man that had abandoned me and left me alone.

  I ignore Leighton.

  Chapter Twenty-Five Leighton

  An angel stands before me, oblivious of my presence. How can I fault her, how can I even begin to comprehend the pain I have caused her?

  With fluent movements and beautiful grace, she runs the length of our hallway, her hands piled high with towels. The heat inside the house is unbearable, sweat already beginning to appear on my forehead. I use my sleeve, wiping it dry.

  “ARRGGHHH!” I hear a woman scream, the noise echoing through the halls.

  Everything happens so fast. My front door opens, the twins and Antonio enter. I’m pushed against a wall, a fist slammed into my cheek and then arms wrapped around me. “Good to see you man,” Ant whispers in my ear. The twins nod their heads towards me before running towards the screaming.

  “What’s going on? Who’s screaming?” I ask nervously, wondering what the hell has been happening?

  “Little sis is in labour.” Antonio smiles at me happily.

  “What, here? In my house? Why isn’t she in hospital?” I ask, following him through the halls towards the ruckus.

  “Too late for that, man. She is already crowning with one of the fuckers. Your wife is on delivery duty.” Ant laughs as my face portrays the shock I feel.

  “Fuck.” I walk into the kitchen, wishing I’d closed my eyes first. Maria is spread open, everything she has is on show. I am scarred with a view of her openness with a head almost there. I close my eyes rapidly, turning around disgusted. “Jesus,” I huff out.

  “Get the fuck over here, Leighton.” Maria shouts angrily towards me. Am I crazy for actually going to her, when she is in her state of undress? It is weird; she is like a little sister to me. Her eyes are murderous and I instantly regret my decision as I get to her side.

  Another fist lands square on my cheek, a hand grabbing my shirt tight and pulling. With her face in front of mine and her teeth grit she spits venom at me. “You useless fucking bastard, if it wasn’t for the fact I am about to push two people out of my vagina, I would personally cut your balls off and ram them
down your fucking throat, you coward.” I want to smile at her words, but think better of it, after she has already smacked me once.

  “Okay,” I reply, not really knowing how to react to her hate towards me. I chance a glance at my wife, knelt between Maria’s legs. She refuses to look my way, the hurt vivid on her face. It breaks my heart, more than anything in this world, to know she feels such hatred towards me. I want to reach for her, to hold her and tell her how much I love her, how I went through hell and back to be here today a new man, but she won’t understand. Not yet.

  “Now, you stay up here and let me use your hand as a stress reliever. If I break it, poor you.” I nod, agreeing with her. Ant looks to me and laughs silently and I mouth “fuck you” back at him. He understands how I am as a person, he has been there before when I am out of control. He will understand the things I have been through to get myself back here.

  “What do we have here?” I hear someone say. Lifting my head I see two paramedics in green, and a doctor. “Ooh, looks like someone’s already too far to get in the ambulance. Looks like a home delivery.” The doctor speaks, slipping a pair of gloves onto his hands.

  “Please, just get them out. It hurts so fucking much.” Maria screams as a contraction consumes her. I can vividly remember Abigail in exactly the same state, so tired and in so much pain. I feel for her I truly do, and if squeezing my hand to near amputation helps her, then I will stay by her head (preferably) for the entire time.

  “Don't worry, sweetheart, they’re almost here. Now, dads, I'm going to need you both to hold her legs up, Miss,” he looks at Abbi. “If you could help her rest back, support her.” Abbi nods and moves from between her legs to support her back and move her so she is leaning against the island more.

  “I'm going to wait outside,” Ant says, not needing the visual of his sister’s vagina imprinted on his brain. “Yeah, going.” He makes a gagging sound as the doctor starts to touch her private parts, checking the baby that is already making its way out.