Chapter 24
Elijah aka Post Man
Jax and Marshall have Vaughn in the truck outside.
We had been communicating updates throughout the melee, but there’ve been no responses since they got Vaughn to safety.
The room Vaughn was in was impenetrable from the exterior, so I climbed the outside wall into the room the guys were in and untied them.
Jax came back out the window with me after I gave Marshall a gun and the grenades.
Neither of them balked at the plan. All humor had vanished, and their only concern was getting to Vaughn.
The bombs I set up at the front of the house were in place before I ever entered. Fortunately for Wraith and what’s left of his crew, they made the right choice. It’s a bit sad when a bomb doesn’t get to realize its’ potential.
Jax rigged the car to drive through the house while I came around the other side to catch the men unaware.
It was then that I saw him. Wraith. He wasn’t with the men who took Vaughn and the guys from the apartment.
There’s no way he even knew that the woman upstairs was a hostage. He’s not that kind of contractor.
It wasn’t until after the grenades had detonated that Marshall ran across the landing to free Vaughn while everyone was gathering their wits downstairs. From there, it was an easy escape through the back of the upstairs and down the eaves and ladder Jax left for them.
Not sure how long they’ve been reunited out there. Can’t help but wonder if she’s worried about me in here or if she’s just happy to be alive and ready to be rid of me.
“Pitiful looking little shit, aren’t ya?”
Chase is starting to come around. It could be due to the stinging slaps on his face, but who can be sure?
“Ughhhh...mmmm. My head.”
He sounds confused and groggy.
“Hip, too.” My fingers dig into the hole at his side to remind him I’m still here.
“Agh! FUCK! You fucking FUCK!
He jerks at his restraints and seems to realize for the first time that he’s tied up because his wide-eyed gaze jerks to his hands on the hook above his head.
“Ten steps ahead, remember? I came prepared for some private time with you.”
“Let me down, you fuck! You have no idea how deep you’ve dug your own fucking grave with this shit.”
Spittle flies from his mouth with the threat. He’s not completely wrong, though. His family is into some rotten shit. Especially, that uncle of his. That man is evil, and I guess since he had no sons of his own, he decided to pass the trait on to his nephew.
“Paul, listen. You aren’t getting down from there.”
“My name isn’t Paul. It’s Chase, you fucking idiot.”
“Chase is such a shitty name, though, Paul. I’ll call you Paul.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” The humor in my tone belies the fury in my soul. “Fuck you, Paul. You took my girl. You took my best friends. You left me no choice but to come here and string you up.”
“She pressed charges against me! I’m a Sheridan, for fuck’s sake. This could’ve all been over sooner if she’d just dropped the charges like I asked. Then she was always at work or with you. I couldn’t reason with her.”
He waited for her to be alone. Well, not alone, but not with dozens of people in the bar. That clearly hadn’t worked out for him the first time. And not when she was alone with me.
“Why? Why’d you wait? We were alone together all the time.”
“My uncle. He told me to wait and got me the crew.”
“Your uncle should’ve done a more thorough job warning you. You clearly didn’t get the hint.”
“You’re one man. You’re not as tough as you want to think.”
“Says the man hanging from the banister while dripping blood and drool everywhere. This paints quite the picture, Paul.”
“You know what? Fuck you! Take that bitch and get out of here. Those charges won’t stick anyway. None of this will matter.”
More drool trails down his chin as he fights back tears. He’s in pain. Too bad he took my people and called Vaughn a bitch. Things are about to get a lot messier in here.
“Ever wondered why they call me Post Man?”
He has. I know he has because he raises his head to meet my eyes.
“Just figured you delivered mail or something.”
That’s funny. I can’t help but laugh aloud at that.
“That’s good. Funny. But, no. They call me Post Man because I send the best messages.”
“Okay. Isn’t that what I just fucking said?”
“Not those kinds of messages, Paul. Look around you.”
He does. For the first time since he woke up, he takes in the scene around us. He sees how I’ve spent my time while he was asleep. His eyes widen, and he sucks in a sharp breath. He gets it now. He finally understands the situation he’s put himself in.
“No. Please. No. I won’t bother you again. I won’t bother her again. Just let me go. Just leave.”
“If it makes you feel any better, you were always going to die at my hand.”
He’s sobbing now.
“Why? Because of the thing on the stairs? I’m sorry. I told her I was sorry.”
“Not just that, Paul. I’m the only man alive who can know the feel of her.
Now I know that you couldn’t have known back then that she was mine, but she was.
I just hadn’t found her yet, and that’s not your fault.
It’s just your bad luck. What is your fault, though, is that you hurt her.
You took her from me, and none of it can stand, Paul.
Your fate has been sealed many times over. ”
The blade cuts through his scalp like butter while one of my favorite songs plays in the background. Mood music always puts me in the zone. This is peace.
Oops, I did it again
I played with your heart, got lost in the game
Oh baby, baby
Inspired by Britney, and also by Chase’s screams, I decide to quite literally play with his heart.
This has to be one of the best messages I’ve ever sent.
Shrapnel is embedded in the walls and incomplete people lie lifeless all over the room.
Every body on the property has been relieved of their scalps and some of their internal organs.
Amir is hanging like a marionette from the canopy bed in the master bedroom, and Chase.
..oh, poor Chase. His mom is going to be sick when she walks in and sees this.
That’s fine. This message is for them and the uncle.
No way they’ll let this get out. It’s not good for the family image to have a bunch of hitmen and their son brutally murdered in his home.
Best of luck to them. There’s a car in here, and I’ve got no idea how they’ll get all that blood off of the concrete driveway.
Heaving in a heavy sigh, I resolve to face the music outside.
Back at my truck, Jax is sitting in the driver’s seat with the engine running. Smart man. He crawls in the back with the other two when he catches sight of me.
Opening the back door first, I need to lay eyes on everyone.
Make sure they’re okay. There she is. She’s still so beautiful.
Jax and Marshall both sport busted lips and various bruises.
They fought hard for my girl. Vaughn is messy, but overall untouched.
Her beautiful face is emotionless. She’s looking back at me, but for the first time since I met her, she’s hiding what she feels.
“Thank you for coming for us.” Her tone is flat and matter of fact.
“Of course. Couldn’t let them keep my girl and my best friends.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Yeah, us either.” Perfect synchrony per usual. They’re taking her side. Of course they are. I want to take her side, too.
Nodding in acquiescence, I climb behind the wheel and pull out into the street. The visor mirror reveals that my face and hands are a mess of blood and...is that a sliver of...tongue? Nothing a couple makeup wipes from the console can’t handle. They cut right through the viscous liquid.
“We uhh...need to go to a safe house on the other side of town for a while. At least until the bodies are found.”
Looking into the rear-view mirror, I see the three of them huddled together in the back. Marshall meets my reflection for only a moment and nods in understanding.