Tia watched the paramedics lift Tucker’s body into the
ambulance. She knew the neighbors watching probably wondered why she hadn’t
shed a tear, him being her husband of twenty years, but all her tears dried up
long ago.
She watched as cops went in and out of her house, evidence
bags clutched tightly in their hands. She knew the house would be a jumbled
mess by the time they were done, but nobody cared about that. All they cared
about was what happened to Tucker, one of their own.
She knew the pictures in her nightstand drawer would
disappear. None of them would ever let proof of Tucker’s abuse get out if they
could help it. The problem was, she had made sure they couldn’t stop it. A copy
of all the photographs was in the mail to the local paper. Her sister, a
reporter for the paper, was going to publish them in the late edition.
Tia was scared her sister would lose her job, but Leigh told
her it was worth it. She’d been trying to get Tia away from Tucker for years, and
since she never accomplished that, she was determined to help Tia after the
fact. She didn’t care that Tia was guilty.
Guilty of killing her husband in his sleep. Guilty of
beating him with his own baton. Guilty of enjoying it.
Tia didn’t care what happened to her anymore. Tucker had
already taken everything from her, everything that mattered. He took her trust and
peace of mind years ago, but those Tia had learned to live without. He had
taken her dignity with every blow of his fist, and her sanity with every
demeaning word he screamed at her. He had dwindled her self-worth down to
nothing over the years with his constant tirades over everything thing she’d
done wrong, but she had grown used to that.
But when he beat her so badly that he killed the baby she
had been wanting, the baby conceived when he raped her a few months earlier,
Tia gave up.
She waited, regaining her strength, until a time when Tucker
was unsuspecting. He’d pulled a double shift and was dead on his feet by the
time he came home earlier that night. By the time Tia was done with him, he was
dead off his feet as well.
Her sister thought Tia had a case. That she could get off
because of the abuse. Tia didn’t tell her it no longer mattered. She knew her
sister needed something to hold on to, a way to clear Tia’s name. Tia wondered
if Leigh would still try to do that after she was gone.
Tia hated hurting her sister, but she was so tired. Tired of
hurting, tired of life. Just tired.
The two officers guarding Tia were talking to each other.
Tia knew they didn’t think she was a threat, not to anyone else anyway. She
used their distraction to her advantage and quietly pulled her insulin and
syringe out. She had counted on them letting her keep the medicine after the
paramedics told the cops stress could bring about a hypoglycemic episode. One
of her guards turned toward Tia, but not before she injected herself with a
lethal dose of insulin. Tia watched him turn back to his partner, not concerned
after he saw that it was just her medication.
Tia asked to be placed in a patrol car. She told the
officers she was tired and needing to sit down. The officers complied. Tia
watched activity swirling around outside the window and thought back to earlier
that night.
Given the chance, she would do it all again, she decided. It
was past time Tucker was stopped. She had thought about leaving him numerous
times, but couldn’t bear to think he would find another woman to abuse. She
thought she could handle everything, and she did for years, but she finally
figured out there were some things nobody could handle.
As Tia felt her body slow down, she smiled. She knew it
wouldn’t be long now. The last thing she saw before she slipped away was Tucker’s
face. Tia knew she’d see him in hell again soon.
