Chapter 16 #2
I would get Lu out of here and then deal with Tangaloa’s betrayal.
As soon as the stairs were lowered, I was down them. I didn’t even take the time to breathe in the fresh air of home. I bolted past the flight attendant and hurried to where Lu was waiting on the tarmac.
She came forward too, though not quite at the speed I was aiming for her. I had my eyes on her, taking in her raw nose, her bloodshot eyes, and her swollen eyelids. How could Tangaloa do this to her?
I was so distracted, planning my retribution, that I never saw the fist coming. Lu stopped just as I reached her, cocked her arm back, and slammed it as hard as she could into my face.
I didn’t go down, but I did stumble. Though my cheek stung, it was my shock that had me grabbing the side of my face. “What the fuck, Lu?”
“That,” she snapped, “is for thinking I would blame you for Nishi’s death.
How could you think that I would hold you responsible when you gave her a more peaceful passing than she would have had if you weren’t there?
” Tears overflowed her eyes. “She died knowing she was coming home. I will never blame you for helping her pass painlessly.”
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands automatically went to her hips. “And this,” she went up on her toes to kiss my lips, “is to thank you for keeping your promise.”
My hands gripped her tightly as I leaned my forehead down on hers. “I didn’t bring her back alive. I failed her.”
“You didn’t,” she insisted. Her voice broke and a tear fell from her chin onto my arm. “I get to say goodbye to her properly now, as does her family. You gave us that, Aloiki. You gave us,” her voice cracked, “closure.”
“I should have given you more, done more…”
Lu tipped her head back to look up at me.
“No, you shouldn’t have. I know you, Aloiki.
And I know you did all you could. I have no doubt that there was nothing you could have done that would have changed her fate.
” Tears streamed down her cheeks faster.
“And as much as it kills me to know she’s gone, there’s a sense of peace in that. ”
I took her lips. “I need inside you, but there are two children exiting the plane with Tangaloa right now.”
“Ah, about Tangaloa.” She pulled back from my lips.
“I also promised him I wouldn’t let you anywhere near my pussy again until you swore that you wouldn’t punish him for telling me about Nishi.
He insisted it wasn’t necessary, but as I said, I know you, and I know that it is.
So, promise or you and your hand are going to get very familiar with each other. ”
I let out a low growl. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking,” she said with a straight face.
“If I kill him then there’s nothing standing between me and your pussy,” I warned through gritted teeth.
She held up a finger, a frown on her face. “No. Don’t do that. Not now. Not when that fucking hearse is here for my best friend.”
Shit. That twisting in my stomach returned. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. And Tangaloa?”
I could see she wasn’t going to let this go, and I needed access to her pussy.
Fuck. “Fine,” I relented. “He’s off the hook.
This time.” I snagged her around her waist and pulled her flush up to my chest. “But don’t you ever use that on me again.
One time, Hōkūpa?a. You and me, we don’t do ultimatums.”
“You’re right,” she conceded. “Are you okay to drive? We brought the bikes here on a flatbed. We can call it back if needed.”
“I’m good,” I insisted. “I’d never risk you otherwise.”
She smiled up at me. “I know. Let’s go get you into bed. I need you inside me too.”
One Week Later
Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV was not forgotten, but we chose to lay Nishi to rest before we dealt with her murderer and rapist.
In the tradition of our people, we celebrated Nishi’s life as we mourned her passing. Friends and family gathered at Waikīkī Beach, where we feasted, sang, drank, told stories of Nishi’s life, and danced in remembrance.
Then, just before sunset, we got onto our surf boards, kayaks, paddleboats, and boats and headed out to sea.
As promised, I brought Nishi personally out to see the ocean one last time.
When others placed a lei in the water as they chorused a kanikau, a grief chant of loss and love, Lu and I spread Nishi’s ashes into the sea.
The next night, we boarded Tommy’s boat.
At Church earlier that day, I proposed a change of positions.
Tommy had been acting more as the Club’s Medic than an Enforcer recently and the twins were picking up slack as Enforcers.
I made it clear in no uncertain terms that I was not proposing this as a punishment.
Tommy was not lacking in his duties, but his talents were better served elsewhere.
The twins were overqualified as Road Captain and Tail Gunner anyway.
The vote was passed and new patches were passed out.
I’d been distracted with taking care of Lu the night we returned to O‘ahu to ask what happened to Jones until the next day. Apparently the twins had hooked the wheeling suitcase between their bikes and drove back to the farm with Jones between them.
In the week since we’d been back, they’d only opened the case twice to toss in a single cheeseburger and water bottle each time. And he’d been kept out in the hot sun next to a manure pile.
On the boat were the twins, Tommy, Lu, Tangaloa, and me.
Since none of us were looking forward to opening that case, as soon as we got out to sea, the twins threw it overboard.
It sank almost immediately. The twins each put a pair of goggles on and then dove in after it.
They were gone just over two minutes before they resurfaced, and I got my first look at Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV.
Even with the dip in the ocean, the man was not in good shape. He was barely conscious, but I wasn’t concerned about that. We had ways of making him wake up. He was older than I expected, maybe mid-sixties? It was a wonder he survived a week in that suitcase.
After the twins stripped him of his very soiled, expensive clothing that he’d gone to work in, we got him back onboard. I kept Lu on the other side of the bow as they strung him up from the gaff.
To say Lu had been having a tough week was an understatement.
She’d have her highs and her lows of grief, topped with pregnancy symptoms. She’d raided nearly every type of ice cream in Bacon’s massive freezer and then would cry when she’d eventually throw it up.
She claimed she didn’t have a baby bump yet, but I swore it was there.
Her hips were just slightly wider and she was starting to have a curve to her belly.
This, of course, was the absolutely wrong thing for me to point out to her. And I had to bend her over Bacon’s kitchen table and fuck her until we were both sated to convince her that I was not calling her fat.
Jones’ pallor was all wrong. He looked more yellow than Caucasian, and his hair had fallen out in the ocean in clumps. His skin sagged unnaturally in places. Despite the ocean dip, he still smelled… Well, he kinda smelled like freshly roasted, rotten chicken.
Lu wasn’t the only one who gagged, but thankfully I had the foresight to bring some peppermint oil for under our noses.
When they were ready, I nudged Lu. “Anything you want to say to him before we get started?”
Lu shook her head. “Everything I had to say about Nishi, I said yesterday. I don’t want to hear anything from his mouth except his screams.”
“He’ll scream,” I vowed. “But I want you to stay back here.”
She nodded, “Trust me, I’m as close to him as I ever want to be.”
I gave her a quick kiss before approaching Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV. He was strung up with his arms out in a V and on his knees.
“You don’t know me,” I said in a low, menacing voice.
“But I guarantee my face is the last one you’ll ever see.
I don’t care if you know why I am doing this and I don’t care what your reasonings are for why you’ve done what you’ve done.
At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. You’re still going to die.”
The man’s scruffy, misshapen beard hid some of his face’s saggy skin that jiggled as he tried to move his mouth up and down to speak.
“Shhh…” I coaxed gently, putting my finger to his lips. “Don’t speak. Save your strength. As I said, I don’t care.”
I held my hand out, and Tangaloa placed the handle of a leather bullwhip on my palm.
“Do you recognize this, Mr. Jones? You should,” I continued on without waiting for his answer.
“It’s yours.” I curled it up in my hand.
“Do you see the red it’s stained with? I was going to mimic those lashes.
I memorized them. I know exactly where and how to strike.
” The man’s eyes widened in fear. “But I decided against it.” His shoulders sagged in relief.
“You shouldn’t be so happy to hear that, Mr. Jones.
I’m sure you’re hungry. After all, you’ve only eaten two cheeseburgers in the past eight days.
Cooking in that nasty suitcase. It must have been truly awful!
So, here’s what I have decided. Out of the kindness of my heart, I will be giving your whip back to you.
In pieces. Even death row inmates get a last meal, and I have chosen yours.
And mark my words, Mr. Jones, you will eat the entire meal. One way or another.”
I handed the whip back to Tangaloa to start cutting up. Pulling my dagger, I stepped even closer to him. “Are you aware, Mr. Jones, how much blood is in the human body? About nine to ten pints in a grown male.”