Chapter Thirty-Three #2
He places a hand on his chest, tapping two fingers over his heart before he continues to speak.
“Me... Seeing you trying to break through these chains, seeing your body struggle to succeed at such a thing breaks my heart, and all I saw was you breaking your spine or hearing your body literally break, killing yourself.”
He looks at Frani, tears clinging to his lashes.
“And I can’t bear to lose either one of you.” He says. “You’re my children damn it!”
I let my head rest on his shoulder as I try to control my emotions. The emotions Harshal Bolaji put in me with just one look at him.
***
Hours later the gang and I are back at the cabin and Dad’s plan is already in motion.
He had me find Jamie’s email and he made video saying that he wants to challenge Jamie and his men.
He told him that he wanted to end this war between our family and his.
He said one of us has to go down in the ground otherwise the war will never be over.
Dad gave Jamie exactly seventy-two hours to respond.
If he doesn’t respond within those hours we can sneak attack the motherfucker and get My Angel back.
“Sit down you’re making me antsy.” Frani says.
We’re out on the back porch and I look out at the grassy land he and I fell asleep on that night I had a nightmare.
It was his first time here and he chose to sleep under the stars with me.
It was unintentional and now it’s a memory that I think will be with me for the rest of my life.
Frani is sitting in a chair, sucking on a lollipop as she does her homework on the computer.
“Sorry, I just can’t wait to beat the shit out of that motherfucker.” I state.
Frani chuckles. “You don’t know if that will happen or not.”
I grunt in response. Dad comes outside with a beer in his hand. He looks at my current physical state. I’m currently shirtless, because I got hot earlier today, sweatpants, and a pair of socks. I know I’m backwards being shirtless in a pair of grey sweatpants but I don’t give a fuck right now.
“Put on a shirt.” Dad said. “And some shoes.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Just do as I say.” He replies.
He then walks back inside. The cabin sounds noisy. I look at Frani who just looks at me. After a few seconds she shrugs and says,
“Don’t look at me. But I’d do as he says.”
She then continues to type away on her computer.
Sighing I go back inside and weave my way through the gang in the living room as they play a game of cards, drinking, and enjoying each other’s company.
I walk into my room and get dressed like Dad demanded I do, I also strap a gun to my thigh, just in case.
When I exit he’s standing right in front of me, dressed in his biker gear.
“Get your helmet.” He says.
Walking down the hall he reaches into the hall closet to pull out the black bag that holds some of the rifles the gang sometimes use. When he turns to see me just looking at him he gestures his hand in shooing motions.
“Get going so we can go.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see.” He replies as he heads towards the door.
Once we are outside we get on our bikes and ride.
At first I thought it was just a Dad wanting a night out with his son due to how long we’ve been riding.
But we don’t dare go anywhere near the border of the city.
Dad turns off on a random dirt road and I follow him.
He comes to a stop and gets off his motorcycle.
I do the same and when he takes off his helmet he gestures for me to follow him.
I do and we walk into the woods. I explore this foreign place, taking in Mother Nature’s beauty.
“This place is beautiful.” I mutter.
“Nature is always beautiful.” Dad says.
We end up on a cliff and we get an amazing view of the land that is Arizona. Many people don’t think there’s forests and snow and other festive shit in this state but if they look a little closer they’ll find what their looking for... for the most part at least.
“Dad, what are we doing out here?” I ask.
Dad takes the bag off his shoulder and pulls out two rifles. He hands one to me and keeps the other for himself.
“I hate seeing you pent up with angry suppression.” He explains. “So, I set up a little shooting range for you to release some of that anger, that way you will be able to sleep tonight.”
I look at him taken aback a little. My biological father, the little I did know about him, would have never done this for me. Shit, I don’t even know if I’d still be alive had I’d been under his custody.
“Okay.” I say slowly, unsure of how to take this.
“I know you’re used to dealing with certain shit on your own but son...”
He comes to stand directly in front of me and places his palms on my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.
“You’re not some boy who was granted powers that would never fail him. You’re a human fucking being and sometimes we fail, fall, or are put in situations we don’t understand.” He continues. “But I promise you this... you’ll come out of it alive and well.”
My heart beats erratically in my chest as I take in his words.
“And how we get there, how we get out of those situations, failures, and shit?” he adds. “With help... it’s okay to ask for a helping hand, why do you think superheroes work in teams?”
I smirk.
“Not all of them work on a team, some work solo.” I state.
“That may be true, but I refuse to let you be a hero who works alone.”
“Who said I was a hero?” I ask. “I’m just on the side that’s often misunderstood.”
Dad laughs and I join him.
“Alright Mister Misunderstood, let’s go shoot some cans and other pieces of junk.” He claps me on the back.
He takes me to the shooting range he set up and we begin to shoot. There are soda cans, glass soda bottles, posters that showcases the human body, and targets strung all around the area.
“This shall be fun.” I mumble under my breath.
“Yes, it shall.”
We then begin to shoot the objects. It’s fun and very therapeutic for me.
Dad misses a few shots, and I tease him about it, especially when I get the shot he doesn’t.
He then calls me a ‘showoff’. We do this for about forty-five minutes.
The sun finally sets and Dad turns on the flood lights he set up around the area so we can still see.
“Old man.” I smile.
“Oh really?” he asks.
“Yeah, you can’t hit some of the targets.” I gesture to said targets.
“Oh okay.”
Dad then aims his gun at a glass soda bottle. He shifts his body and gets in the right position. Next he shoots the bottle and the bullet shatters it immediately, the echoing of the shot ringing in my ears.
“Nice.” I compliment him.
“How’s that for an old man?” he asks.
“Impressive.” I nod. “...If only you could get every target you aim at.”
“Ah, it’s all just fun in games, but best believe it if was a life-or-death situation I won’t miss a damn shot.” He states.
“Hm. Looking at all these cans and bottles makes me a little thirsty.” I state.
“Yeah, we have been here for a little while.” Dad says. “Want to take a break and get something to drink?”
“That sounds nice.” I respond.
“Let’s go.”
Leaving the homemade shooting range we head back to our motorcycles and hop on.
We head to the nearest gas station in hopes that they’d have the drinks we wanted.
They didn’t. So, we ended up deciding to go to the bar just outside of town.
It’s risky but we can keep a low profile.
We kill our engines and get off our bikes when we pull into a parking space.
We walk inside the western themed bar and we’re greeted by a woman in a plaid dress and a red scarf around her neck.
Her breasts spilling out the top of her dress.
Her long hair pulled back in pigtails and on top of her head is a cowgirl hat.
“Hey fellas, just two?” she asks.
Dad nods. “Yep. Can we just sit at the bar?”
The woman looks behind her at the bar before looking back at Dad.
“Oh, of course, go right ahead.” She responds.
“Thank you.”
We walk past her and head to the bar. The bartender comes over to us and takes our orders. I look up at the TV that’s playing some football game as I wait for my drink.
“How are you feeling now?” Dad asks.
I look at him and ponder on his question. I mean I’m still angry about everything that’s currently going on but on the bright side I have calmed down. Nodding slowly, I say,
“I feel better. Calmer.”
The bartender sets our drinks down in front of us and Dad smiles a little.
“Good, good.” He nods. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
I smirk and take a sip of my beer. My eyes advert back to the TV which now shows commercials.
I hum in response and set my beer down. It’s a shame that the calmness I feel now only last for a couple more seconds.
I feel something press against my spine.
It’s cold and hard which makes me stiffen.
At first, I think it’s a prank because we are in a western themed bar, and the possibility that they have an actor pretend to be a sherif or cowboy run through my head.
But that assumption only lasts for three seconds.
“Get up.” A voice I don’t recognize says.
I look at Dad and see he too is held at gunpoint. The gun positioned in the same place in his back as the one in mine.
“I don’t think that’s something you want me to do.” Dad grumbles causally before taking a sip of his beer.
“Bitch, I said get. Up.” The man said.
“Or what?” I taunt.
I hear the guns cock.
“Or we blow y’all’s asses up.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed as fuck. I take another sip of my beer and slam it down on the bars surface. I’m not drunk enough for this shit!
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask.
“The head of Ezmereldain De’Verde.” He responds. “But you can call me Pap’Verde
Immediately my blood boils. Angry at the fact that we’ve been caught and angry that my angel is caught in their nasty fucking web!
I look at Dad before sliding off my barstool.
The motherfucker guides me and Dad outside.
The man holding Dad at gunpoint doesn’t look familiar nor does he look Mexican.
He looks like a black man, but I can’t tell with the bandana and hat covering ninety percent of his face.
“Alright, we’re outside, what the fuck do you want?” I ask.
A car pulls up in front of us. The driver steps out and the black man goes to open the back door.
He reaches in and pulls out Grey Eyes who has his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth.
My heart stops beating at the sight of him.
He’s been crying and he’s resisting the man pulling him out of the car.
“Boy get your ass out the fucking car!” the man manhandles him.
After Grey Eyes exits the car Jamie comes out in an expensive looking suit. I begin to charge after Grey Eyes, but Dad quickly puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me. I look back at him angrily and he just looks at me shaking his head. Grunting I relax and stay still.
“What the fuck do you want?” I growl hastily. “And who is this motherfucker?”
Jamie smiles.
“I’ve come to respond to your video.” He replies. “And this... this is another reason the Spanish gang was after your so-called boyfriend.”
The man takes the bandanna off his face and removes his hat. That’s when I see it. He has the same eye shape as Grey Eyes, their skin tones are almost matching. A gorgeous chocolate shade kissed by a hint of gold from the suns early morning golden rays.
“I’m Elijah Bolaji, Harshal’s father.”