Chapter Thirty-Six #2
Jamie turns his attention to Prez which gives me the advantage to stealthily grab the screwdriver.
I look at Elijah who is also looking at Prez and Jamie as they speak.
Perfect. Gripping the end of the screwdriver the way I want it I interrupt the conversation by chucking the screwdriver at Jamies hand.
The screwdriver punchers his skin like a needle and he yells in pain, dropping the gun on the couch.
I dive over the coffee table and tackle Elijah as he attempts to pull out a gun.
I straddle his body and punch him a couple of times while commotion goes on behind me.
His head bobs with each blow I land on his face, his nose quickly becoming bloody along with my knuckles.
He continues to grasp at the gun in his waistband.
Slamming his hand on the floor hard I feel his wrist pop and he shouts in pain. I grab his gun and shoot his hand.
“Fuck!” he cries, cradling his bloody hand.
I stand, panting, holding him at gunpoint before walking around him to look around me. With Elijah still in my eyesight I see that the gang has Jamie’s guards at gunpoint. Everyone is frozen. They must’ve quickly disarmed the guards, holding them hostage with their own weapons. How embarrassing.
“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Prez states.
My eyes advert to Grey Eyes who looks at me with tears in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He mouths.
My heart breaks at the fact that he thinks that any of this is his fault. Had I not gone and fallen in love with him this war between my family and Jamie’s would still be going on, but without him in the picture. None of this is my Angels fault.
“It’s okay.” I mouth back.
All of a sudden the lights go out and I hear a hissing sound.
Commotion breaks out all around me. I feel something punch my leg, making me lose my balance.
They lights come back on and fog is everywhere, obstructing my view of anyone and anything aside from myself.
I try to stand up straight, but someone lands a punch in my back, making me fall.
Luckily, I catch myself with my hand and don’t fall all the way down.
Turning my head I see Elijah lunging towards me.
This bastard! His leg is out with the attempt to kick me, but I catch it twist it, his ankle popping.
“Argh!” he gruntsd.
Standing up I use my grip on his leg and spin him around.
He falls to the floor, but I keep spinning him like I’m practicing for the Hammer Throw Sport.
He lets out little strangling sounds as I do so.
His torso starts to lift off the ground and as I spin him I see another man charge toward us with something in his hand.
Letting the other guy come toward us so he’s just the right distance away from us I let go of Elijah’s leg.
Elijah flies in the air and topples the other guy.
“Ah, fuck, you fucking stabbed me!” Elijah shouts.
The fog starts to clear up and another man comes charging at me.
He has no weapon other than his fist. He tries to punch me but I move out of the way.
I block his kick with my hand before straightening my fingers and hand chopping him in the throat with the side of my stiffened hand. Another man charges after me.
I duck and he stumbles, his suit jacket flowing in the air.
Grabbing the fabric of the jacket I use it to pull him to me.
As he stumbles back toward me I use my foot to kick him in his lower back.
Like butter his arms slip out of the jacket.
Perfect. Wrapping the fabric around my hand a couple of times, making sure that I still have enough to work with I wait for him to attempt to attack me again.
Like clockwork he does, but this time he grabs his baton from the tool belt he wears.
What the fuck is this guy, some superhero with terrible combat skills?
He swings the baton at me and misses. Wrapping the fabric of the jacket around his wrist I use it to yank on his arm, hard, popping it out of socket.
He lets go of the baton and I catch it with my free hand.
Spinning around so I have better access to his body I swing the baton at him, hitting his pelvis, stomach, lower, mid, and upper ribs, and his neck in rapid fire succession.
He falls to his knees, hugging himself as best he can with one arm.
Unwrapping his wrist and my hand from his suit jacket I hold it up.
It’s a nice jacket, the material feels expensive, it’s a shame to use it this way but.
.. so be it. Wrapping the jacket around his neck I make sure it has a tight grip around his throat, closing his airways.
He fights me as his body struggles to retrieve oxygen.
He gags and chokes, the sound like music to my ears.
Scratching them in just the right places.
I then position the jacket around his neck the way I want it and whip it, breaking his neck.
His struggling stops immediately as his now limp body falls to the ground.
I hear gunshots and turn around, the fog completely gone now and see Jamie shooting at Flit and AZ who reside on the staircase we used to enter this space.
To my left I hear grunts. Turning my head I see my Angel beating the shit out of a guard, using the techniques I taught him.
My heart warms at the sight. My baby is using the skills I taught him, now I know what the Proud Boyfriend feeling is.
A guy grabs my neck from behind and squeezes.
I elbow him in the gut and turn around to face him.
Grabbing the discarded baton from earlier I use it and swing it at his balls.
He quickly covers his family jewels, his mouth agape as he hollers in pain.
I place the end of the baton in his mouth with a frown on my face.
“Put a sock in it. Be a man and take a hit to the fucking balls.” I instruct him.
I gag him with the baton until it’s buried deep in his throat. He gags and spit sputters out of his mouth, landing on my clothes. The saliva is thick and white. I growl in disgust before looking away from the glob of spit.
“Did you just spit on me?” I ask.
He gags in response as I twist the baton in his mouth. Lifting up, adding more and more pressure I break his teeth, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth.
“Have I nice time in the afterlife, bitch.” I say before pushing the baton all the way up, breaking his jaw.
Sliding the now slimy baton out of his mouth, his teeth marks on it, I swing it at his temple, to make sure his dead. Another loud bang sounds and I hear Flit shout,
“Ghostin!”
I look up to see Ghostin holding his bloody neck.
Shit! I run over to the steps and quickly climb them, trying my best to get to him as quickly as possible.
Pulling my jacket and compression shirt off I rip it.
Ghostin has been shot in the neck and he’s losing blood faster than the speed of light.
Using the ripped piece of fabric I wrap it around his wound and tie.
“We need to get him to the doctor asap.” I state. “So, they can take the bullet out.”
My own fingers are covered in the warm, sticky liquid.
“I’ll do it, you guys got this right?” Chill Pepper asks.
“Yeah.”
“K-kill that son of a bitch... for...” Ghostin says, before choking on his blood.
Splatters of blood cover my bare torso and abs.
“F-for me.” he continues.
His head then falls all the way to the ground and I see the light leave his eyes.
Fuck! Grabbing his wrist to check for a pulse I come up empty.
I grab his other wrist and check it. Still nothing.
Ghostin/Justin is dead. I look down at his blood that trickles down my naked flesh and just feel it as it goes down my body as if he’s telling me goodbye. My own blood boils.
“Who shot him?” I ask, my voice booming.
“Jamie.” Flit responds.
“Okay.” I mutter, getting to my feet.
Walking back down the stairs I begin to hunt for the motherfucker but am bombarded when someone bumps into me. Looking at that someone I recognize them as Grey Eyes.
“Jamie isn’t here.” He supplies.
Grabbing Grey Eyes by the throat I slam my lips to his. His taste and the way his tongue slides into my mouth energizes my body, giving me the strength I need.
“Hi Angel.” I whisper.
“Hi.” He whispers back.
“Fuck!” I hear Prez shout.
I look at him.
“What?”
“Jamie made an escape.” he responds.
“Ghostin is dead.” I inform him.
“What?!”
I nod in response.
“That asshole is mine!” Prez shouts.
“Uh, can the honors be mine?” Grey Eyes raises a hand. “He violated me in an explicit way and I want to be the one to kill him.”
Fire. That’s all I fucking see. I don’t see red, my blood isn’t boiling, no I see fire and it wants to burn one person.
“He did what?” I growl.
“He—”
“Touched what’s fucking mine!”
Grey Eyes is silent for a moment before nodding. My hands balls into fists as I try to calm myself down. It takes me a few long moments, but I eventually do calm down.
“Yeah Angel, he’s yours to fucking kill.” I nod.