Chapter 95: The Ballad Of Layla Beaulieu

Open Road, Outskirts of Temperance, South Dakota...

 Puffs of white smoke filled the old pickup truck as the lone driver's low blue eyes took in the sight of the vast horizon that appeared around him while drawing a long slow drag from the thin white stick that balanced between his harsh pale lips. He'd been a man on a mission for quite some time and the more distance he put between himself and the body he left on the highway, the more the reflections of a rather sinister past began to plague his already weary and twisted mind. The rugged angry man in the rattlesnake cowboy hat and worn blue jeans and a short-sleeved white t-shirt with muddy dust-blown brown cowboy boots was indeed born Jarrett Quinton Beaulieu, but he had gone by the name "Jarrett Quinn" for a good seventeen years. 

The memory of the night he'd taken it upon himself to put an end to his drug-addicted ex-wife due to her having smothered his little girl right along with her new boyfriend and drug dealer had come flooding back in force as the road seemed to get longer and longer despite all the pain and suffering he'd left in his wake. 

He could still see the faces of Sara's parents. 

The horrified look on her mother's face as he strangled her after revealing that he'd been the one that killed her missing husband, Sara's real father had come back to haunt him. 

It was nothing the keen sting of a potent booze couldn't distract him from as he continued down the long stretch of highway. He knew the day would come when she'd find out everything he'd done and grow to despise him, Layla wasn't a little girl anymore, that was for damn sure and he'd felt he owed it to her to have the truth come directly from the horse's mouth.

After the death of his little girl, Jarrett had spiraled, he lost his job that same afternoon and was worried about how he'd manage to take care of her, when he got home all he wanted was to hold little Layla in his arms and find a solution to his most recent problem, unfortunately, his attempt to hold his little girl lead to his discovery that his drug-addicted ex-wife had killed his little girl, smothered her to death and there was nothing he could do about it despite trying any and every method to bring her back.

When he'd run to the hospital, hoping and praying that she'd been able to be saved they had informed him that she'd been long gone, his world shattered in that moment and all that he felt was emptiness. Even as he drove along the seemingly endless highway, he felt as if he'd been empty, even more so since the truth had come out about what he'd done to The Downes family. 

At the time he'd been at a low point in his life, the lowest he'd ever been when he laid his little girl into the ground. Most nights he'd contemplated ending his own life, but found he had not been willing to give his ex-wife the satisfaction of seeing him so low. The more he stewed on it the more he concluded that she was the one that deserved to be in the ground. 

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Bolton Tailer Park, Unknown Location....

 Trembling and covered in blood from his trip to his ex-wife's place, a shaken and rather broken Jarrett Beaulieu had been unable to fathom what he'd just done as he slowly slid down the side of the living room wall of his younger brother's trailer and stared out into the open. The shock of what he'd just pulled off had been lingering as the bloodied and terror-stricken faces of his ex-wife, her boyfriend, and their on-call drug dealer came flooding back to him.

One by one he had taken their worthless lives just as they had collectively conspired to take the life of his helpless little daughter. He had not felt any remorse for what he'd done, feeling it had been justice given how little they each had valued their lives. Layla had been avenged but Jarrett still felt the emptiness that had crept into him since the day the doctors told him that his little girl couldn't be saved. 

He had attended her funeral, a rather lovely yet sad occasion, and felt nothing as he watched her tiny casket be lowered into the ground. All of his hopes and dreams had gone with her and his heart and soul as well. She had been the best thing that ever happened to him, her so-called mother notwithstanding, and now she'd been gone.

The agony had not been as bad as the anger that filled him as he began to lash out at any and everyone in the wake of her awful death. He had not even recognized himself before nor after he emerged from his ex-wife's trailer and left a trail of bodies in his wake. 

Given that everyone would know that he'd been the one to do the drug-happy bitch in, Jarrett had thought quickly as he took a few moments to make a few adjustments to his appearance and helped himself to his brother's truck before pulling out of the trailer park and driving as far as he could get before he had run out of gas. 

He kept the gun he'd used to kill his ex-wife and her boyfriend and drug dealer in the front seat right beside him planning all too well to do himself in once he'd gotten far enough away from Layla's grave so as not to taint her memory with the dark deeds he'd committed in her name. 

No matter how much people would speak of how vile he'd been, he wanted no part of that for his little girl, she'd been the kindest most gentle soul he'd ever known and she didn't at all get it from him nor her so-called mother. 

She'd only been a tiny angel in a world filled with wicked devils.