Chapter 30
CHAPTER
THIRTY
CARBON
Mint and I head out toward the box, Hanger is already out there, leaning against the outside wall.
Rolling my neck, I think of how this is it, this is the end of Bobby, and my wife will be free.
Blake will be free. My thoughts turn to the poor kid and what Vanilla mentioned to us when we checked in to see if they were noticing any police activity.
Blake has been fairly tight lipped about his time on the streets, but he has mentioned a few things that make Vanilla think he was being exploited by more than just the pieces of shit that paid him for fucked up shit.
Vanilla is on it and I trust the fuck out of him, but fuck it is hard to shake the look in Blake’s eyes when he questioned why Vanilla would offer him something for nothing.
Why he would help without wanting something in return.
My thoughts flick over to Pam and her piece of shit husband. Some people shouldn’t be parents.
I wish more than anything Pam had told Hanger about Harry.
Harry would have had a much different life, and while a better life would likely have raised her to be someone that wouldn’t want a man like me, I would still want that for her.
But time cannot be redone, so I focus on the fact that I have the most incredible wife and that I will do anything it takes to make her life be everything she wants it to be.
Hanger steps away from the wall, his eyes move between Mint and me before shooting out to the side. His brows pinch and both Mint and I swing around. Harry gives a little wave as she gives a little run walk across the long gap between the clubhouse backdoor and where we are by the box.
Hanger calls out first, “Baby girl?”
She comes to a stop before us. “Hey. Did… is… is it done?”
“We were just about—” Mint cuts himself off as we all note Harry’s head nodding and her eyes darting around a bit and her hands twisting in front of her.
“Harry,” I keep my voice soft and low. “Wife, do you need to be part of this?”
Her eyes finally meet mine. Her head rocks slowly. Licking her lips before letting them part on the word, “Yes.”
Hanger nods his head to the side, and I reach my hand out for Harry’s. Mint frowns but steps back, he and Hanger both head inside the box to give us a moment. Harry’s hand slips into mine and I pull her into my body. “Sexy girl, tell me you didn’t take a fucking rideshare to get here.”
“I didn’t. I called Grace and asked her if she regretting not being there.
She said she didn’t. She said she felt at peace with it.
Then she asked me if I felt at peace. I don’t.
I really don’t. Not at all. She said she would duck out of work and come get me.
When I got here Meads and Paige were both waiting for us.
They said they would wait inside for me…
whatever I decided, they wanted to be here for me.
I have people that want to be here for me.
” Her eyes gloss a little, but no tears fall.
I nod. “You have a whole fucking family of people that would do anything for you.”
Her lips roll together before releasing with a smile. “And I would do anything for them.”
A smile twinges at my lips. The relief and satisfaction I feel at seeing my wife so fucking solid in her footing, fuck, it’s a thing of beauty.
“How do you want this to go?”
“How were you planning to end it?” she questions, her eyes shifting between my eyes.
“Doesn’t matter. How do you want to do it?” I try to encourage her because however Harry wants this, that’s the right way to do this.
“I-I’m not sure.” Her eyes flick over to the box and uncertainty mars her features. Fuck I hate seeing her uncertain, but this is a different kind of uncertainty than she used to have pulling at her. Maybe the solution to shoring her up is to let her feel the moment.
“How about we step in, you give yourself a moment to feel the space, see what he looks like now, and then you decide what feels right for you,” I suggest.
“Yeah, that’s… let’s do that.” She nods, her eyes move back to mine and she gives a little anxious smile with a tiny shrug of her shoulders.
I take her hand and lead her into the box.
Her brother leans on one wall, arms crossed over his chest while her dad stands by the inside of the door, body loose.
Hanger has proven to be a valuable and calming presence for not just his children, but for all of us.
I think Harry crashing into our lives, with Roxy on her heels, has been the impetus for him coming into his own.
I fire off a quick text to Helium, asking him to be around tonight, just in case Harry needs to work through anything. I do not want to fuck this up. Wanting someone dead and actually killing someone are very different things. He sends a confirmation immediately.
Hanger gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze.
Harry looks from her dad to her brother, straightens her shoulders, and turns her eyes to the broken and discolored man slumped in the chair.
She works a little swallow down. Her body suddenly swings to the side, and she is breathing heavily.
Her shoulders bunch up. This isn’t fear.
Her hands fist. This isn’t upset. Her eyes move along the metal table surface, where we have a few items of destruction sitting.
Her hand snaps out. Mint shifts his body away from the wall, his eyes moving over Harry.
A small smirk pushing at the side of his mouth as her hand wraps around the hilt of a hunting knife we pulled off an asshole that wanted to prospect with us a year ago but was turned away and threw a fit, threatening people with it. He now resides next door.
Why did we name Hemmy’s dad Junkyard? Because his yard is where all the junk we throw away goes. Junk just like Bobby.
Harry turns back, holding the blade down at her side, her eyes roaming Bobby.
He seems to be waking up from whatever slump he was in.
His head lifts some, his eyes blink. We have been careful about the face hits, wanting him to see everything, so making sure his eyes don’t swell us has been important.
Bobby gives a little cough, an attempted smirk, which turns to a groan. His jaw is really fucking busted.
“You look like shit,” Harry says, her voice soft and melodic.
Bobby’s eyes move between Hanger, Mint, and me. They land back on Harry. “I knew you wouldn’t kill me.”
Harry’s perfect little brow raises. “Oh?”
“I knew it was a lie.”
She motions, with the knife, at his body. “You would need a hospital to recover from this. Why would we allow that? You would tell the cops and they would come knocking.”
His eyes widen on the knife. “I won’t tell the cops. Memory loss. Right?” His eyes dart between us as the little hope at seeing Harry back seems to be diminishing what he thought it meant.
Harry steps closer, tapping the knife against her thigh, fuck she is so hot. “You think I would risk my husband, my brother, and my dad… for you?”
A tear slips down his chipmunk swollen cheek. “Harry. Baby. Please.”
Harry twists to the side, looking right at me, she holds the knife up between us. “Show me where? I need it over.”
I step forward as she turns back to face Bobby.
He starts to beg and cry in earnest. I wrap my hand around her on the hilt, my front pressing to her back, I tilt us forward.
Moving the point of the knife to just the right spot on his chest, right where his heart is.
I brush my nose against the side of her head.
I turn it just right and angle it to help it move between his ribs for less difficulty in hitting the mark. “Here.”
Her other hand comes up, wrapping over mine that is over hers, I bring my other arm around her body and hold my hand flat over her stomach. Over her scars. The tension in her body squeezes at my soul. Bobby lets out another sharp plea just as Harry presses the knife forward.
Blood wells and falls. Bobby screams. Harry keeps pushing.
My hand on her stomach splays wide and I hold her back against me knowing what is about to happen.
She pushes harder and then her body lurches forward some as the resistance gives.
I keep her firmly in place with my hand on her scarred stomach.
She lets out a short, surprised laugh. When the knife catches and needs another lighter push to get through the last little resistance around the heart, I can feel her shoulders bunching.
The knife slides into its mark and we all watch as Bobby quiets down.
As his eyes blink one last time. The air ceases to crest his lips. Dead.
I keep hold of my wife. Her hands still wrapped on mine and the knife. She pulls in a slow quiet breath and as she equally slow, releases it and all tension leaves her body. I brush my lips against her ear but say nothing.
Her hand over mine loosens and pulls away.
I loosen mine but don’t pull away until I feel hers loosen on the hilt and start to draw back.
Keeping her hand cupped in mine, we both straighten our bodies.
Her perfect little shoulders lift, roll, then settle back down.
I can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “It’s over. ”
I whisper against her ear, “It’s over.”
She swings around in my arms, my hand sliding from her stomach to her back. She beams up at me. “I didn’t know if I could do it. I did it. I… I really did it.”
Mint’s voice is quieted, “And… are you?—”
Harry jerks to the side, showing her brother her face and smile as she cuts him off, “Relieved.”
Hanger gives a soft chuckle. Mint nods, a smile pushing up his face. Harry looks between us, happy. “Have you… have you all done this? Does it always feel this… freeing?”
I consider her words, but honestly, I haven’t ever killed anyone that did me harm or living in my head like Harry has. Kev would be the one to ask to be fair. Before I can answer, Hanger does for me. “Yes.”
Harry looks at her dad. He nods. “For me, yes. As for him… he held a part of my baby girl hostage for years. For me his death feels like relief and vindication. How it feels for you… freeing, it makes sense. Your feelings might adjust. You’re riding the high right now…”
Harry blinks exaggeratedly at us. I know what Hanger is getting at and I am curious if I should push for her to talk to Helium or maybe just suggest it tomorrow—when she has had some time to come down.
Hanger shakes his head. “A drink. Come. We should have a drink.”
Harry bubbles up a smile and a giggle and I know she is really high on adrenaline right now. I am going to have to watch her very carefully. My gut tells me she is going to be good, but I want to make sure she doesn’t ever feel like she is running through any emotion she might have alone.
We get back to the clubhouse, and a hefty pour of whiskey is dropped in front of Harry.
Her hand wraps around the class and I see speckles of blood clinging to her skin.
I look over her cute little dress and sigh, sad that I have to tell her it will need to be destroyed.
The converse platforms she has on will need to be too.
I’ll deal with that a bit later. Right now the music gets turned up and she dances around light as air with the girls.
Helium steps into my side. “I’ll stick around the edges for the next few weeks.”
I nod my thanks.
“You good?” he questions and it takes me off guard.
Turning my neck, I look at him, we are close to the same height, so our eyes meet and I can see he is sincerely asking. I give myself a moment to think about it. His brow lifts. I sigh. “I think she is going to be okay, but I am…”
He nods, clearly not surprised by my words.
I suspect the fucker was asking specifically because he wants me to know I can talk to him too…
not about how I am feeling about Bobby, because we both know I am good with the piece of shit being dead.
But that I can talk to him about how I am feeling in regard to my wife.
About how I feel about her feelings and the ebbs and flows she will potentially go through with having ended a man.
Almost like the fucker knows what he is doing.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing. It works for her. And… don’t forget to take care of yourself. That wife of yours likes you too much for you to not keep on being this”—he motions his hand up and down at me—“for her.”
I chuckle. Her smirks and saunters off. Fucker can be too smart for his own good.
My eyes follow him and I am a bit puzzled when he steps beside Jolt and they have some quiet words.
A flash of something moves across Jolt’s face and my thoughts hedge toward what my father-in-law said earlier.
Maybe I should keep an eye out for Jolt.
A hand drops to my shoulder. Looking over, Kevlar.
“In about a week… keep an eye. After—” he clears his throat “—just ah, after. Anyway, I felt a little empty. Kind of… kind of like ‘what now?’ I achieved the goal. I finished it. Something my brain was focused on for years and it was done. That was harder to work through than anything else.”
I nod, grateful for the information. He gives a pat to my shoulder then motions with his chin toward Jolt. “Don’t worry about that. Just focus on Harry right now. I’ll let you know if anything needs to be done over that way. Right?”
I nod again. “Right. Thanks.”
He gives a tight smile—in the way Kev always does unless he is looking at his wife.
Another bump of his chin, and he moves on.
Harry dances her sexy fucking self over to me.
I pull her body into mine with one arm, and snag the whiskey from her hand, draining the rest of it.
I look down at my beautiful, perfect wife. My obsession.
She blasts her smile up at me. I bend my head, pressing my lips to hers. When I pull back she has the most devious grin on her face. “Frankie.”
I hum a response.
She giggles softly, gives a humored eye roll, then whispers, “If you’re obsessed, then so am I.”
I flash my own grin at her. “Then I guess our kind of love is obsessive.”
She seems thoughtful for a moment. “Or… maybe what we think is obsession is really just love.”
My thoughts flick around on her words. I drop the empty cup down on a side table and cup my hand around her side right up under her arm, letting my thumb brush forward over where F + H Forever is scrawled on her tit. “I don’t care what we call it, just that it is us.”
Her smile softens and I love melty Harry. Hell, I just love her anyway she comes. Especially when she cums. “Us. Forever.”
I grin, brushing my thumb against her tattooed tit again. “Forever us.”