For Here or To Go: A Novel of Horror (Our Family Recipe Book 2)

by Christian Burch

  She tilted her head to the side, seeming to consider whether to invite him in or shut the door in his smiling face. Maybe Warren was right. I shouldn't have smiled. Upon hearing the desperation in his voice, she nods.

  “I’m sure we can rustle up something for you two. Come on in. Is your partner joining you?”

  Stepping back from the door she extended her hand, inviting him inside. A look behind him showed Warren snoozing away, head resting against the window. If the inside of the place doesn't look like a dump, and seemed worthy of Warren’s standards then he'd wake him up. No reason to disturb him at the moment.

  "He's pretty exhausted. I'm sure he'll be in shortly."

  The inside of the restaurant wasn’t impressive or extravagant. Mac followed the woman and couldn’t help but second guess his decision. Unappealing green walls, multi-colored stains on the floor presumably from what customers dragged in on their shoes, and the unavoidable spills that occur didn't do much for boosting Mac's confidence. A few pictures and paintings adorned the walls, in hopes of livening the place up, but they failed miserably in his opinion.

  A family portrait, of the owners no doubt, sat dead center on the far wall. Seeing the face of the woman he was following standing in the picture gave that away.

  A faded photograph of a football stadium. Looked to be Joe Robbie Stadium where the Dolphins were scheduled to play their first game later this month. At a passing glance he couldn’t be too sure though.

  One particular painting made him almost lose his footing. A woman laying on a lush purple couch covered by only a red blanket. The clash of color is what first drew his eye. What a weird thing to display in a restaurant.

  The only thing that kept him from bolting for the door was the mouth-watering smells that were coming from what he assumed to be the kitchen. She motioned to a table, next to the picture of the football stadium but without a window. There was a light above the table that gave off just enough light to keep him from complaining. She placed a menu in front of him. They seemed to offer quite a few options to satisfy a diversity of appetites.

  “Elena will be out shortly to take your order and can answer any questions you may have about the menu. Enjoy your meal,” she said with a small smile and nod of her head.

  Chapter 4

  If he had a hand free, Gabe would have slapped himself for his stupidity in assuming he could carry all three bags at one time and get through the door smoothly. It was an issue of size not strength. Two bags gripped tightly in his left hand, fingers digging into the plastic, and the heavier bag in his left. Turning sideways, he wiggled his way through the doorway but the larger bag got hung up on the edge of the door, stretched, and then began to tear.

  In frustration, he kicked the door shut. Hard.

  Trudging across the dirt, sweat dripped down his forehead. Gabe dropped the bags into the open bed of his truck. A few seconds went by, and blood started to collect in the bottom of the truck. He could see a hand sticking out of the side of the larger bag.

  “Fuck it,” he muttered.

  Rinsing out the truck was something he would worry about when he returned from the dump site. His mind kept replaying the events of the night before. The confrontation with his father had been a breakthrough for him on a massive scale. Fights between them had always been one-sided with Gabe on the losing side taking the brunt of his father’s punches and kicks. Last night while nursing his bloody nose, he made a vow to himself. He was through taking shit from his father. If things continued to escalate, Jameson was going to find out just how far his son was willing to take things. The truth of the revelation Gabe was experiencing was freeing and frightening at the same time.

  Gabe was prepared to wrench himself free of his father’s control, violently if necessary. The days of him blindly following his father’s orders and instructions were behind him.

  Chapter 5

  A loud bang yanked Warren out of his recurring nightmare. Where had it come from?

  Scanning the area in front of him presented him a glimpse of a young man toting three trash bags out of what looked to be a back room of some sorts.

  Based on the layout of the building, it was connected to the restaurant in some fashion. The sides of the room were rusted near the bottom, and weeds were beginning to crawl up the sides. No windows that he could see. Probably just a store room for supplies.

  The agitation on the man’s face was enough for Warren to piece together that it was the man slamming the door that had awoken him. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just another disgruntled employee that hated his job and was picturing his boss’s head being between the door and the jamb when he’d shut it.

  He almost resumed his nap when he noticed something odd. Squinting his eyes, he bolted upright in his seat once his mind registered what his eyes were transmitting. Sleep was long forgotten when he realized it was a bloody human hand protruding from a hole in the bag. His instincts kicked into high gear.

  Warren grabbed for the radio to inform dispatch of what was taking place in front of him. He’d just depressed the button when he spotted movement to his left.

  A shadow.

  He’d never even heard the person approaching. The butt of a shotgun connected with his face and then blackness.

  * * *

  Jameson yanked open the door in a fit of unholy rage. He hit the man again in the side of the head with the shotgun to ensure that he was out. How stupid could his son be? He was going to ruin everything he had worked so hard to build. If he wasn’t careful, it could all come crashing down around him. Things had just gotten a bit sticky. The officer looked to weigh a bit over two hundred pounds but Jameson would have no trouble in getting him to the store room. The real issues were the partner inside, disposing of the vehicle, and the voice that was coming through the radio asking for the officer to say again. Flexing his fingers, he rested the shotgun against the side of the car and put things into motion.

  Hesitating when action was required could be disastrous. He knew that from experience. Take the curve balls life throws at you and keep moving.

  Chapter 6

  Gabe fell to the ground in a heap under the blows his father continued to rain down up on him. Curling himself into a ball does little in the ways of protection and only succeeded in angering Jameson even further. Blood fell from a cut above his eye and Gabe pulled his knees tighter towards his chest to give Jameson fewer sensitive areas to hit. So much for being brave and standing up to his asshole of a father. The bastard sucker-punched me.I didn’t even see it coming.

  How was it his fault that the fucking cops had shown up? He’d done everything asked of him. Whose brilliant idea was it to use humans as a meat supply in the first place? It sure as hell wasn’t Gabe’s.

  A cry of frustration from the direction of the storage room. Though his vision was blurred by the blood he could see his mother rushing towards him. A deep breath of gratitude and relief. The beating had stopped, momentarily if he had to guess.

  Eleanor pushed her husband back and away from her son. First mistake.

  Her concern was for her son who was a mess on the ground. Blood marred his face, and his clothes were twisted and stained by the dirt. Kneeling down in the soil, she whispered something to him that Jameson couldn’t hear to which Gabe only nodded in reply. The widening of Gabe’s eyes was the only warning she had.

  Ignoring Jameson was her second mistake.

  Her head was yanked back forcefully by her hair, some tearing free by the roots. Her neck screamed in protest.

  “What’s running through your head woman? You think you can undermine my authority! I thought I'd gotten rid of that rebellious streak of yours. I guess some lessons need to be revisited.”

  On the last word, the back of his hand connected with her cheek and sent her sprawling upon the ground. Jameson wasn’t through yet. His adrenaline was pumping. There was no denying that he got off on showing the power he had over his family.

  “It’s been quite some time since
you’ve needed some correction hasn’t it? I’m more than willing to re-educate you.”

  Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Jameson hitched up his unkempt jeans and brought his leg back for a swift kick to her abdomen. He wanted her to cry out in pain and beg for mercy. His brow knotted in confusion as he found himself lifted into the air.

  * * *

  Being thought of as the helpless victim has its advantages. You tend to get lost in the background. The second Jameson had switched his focus to Eleanor, Gabe was tossed to the side in his mind. Seeing his mother get knocked to the ground set off an explosion inside Gabe’s mind and he allowed it to consume him.

  All the rage, hate, and guilt that he’d kept locked away all those years came pouring out in a torrent and Jameson had the pleasure of receiving it. Gaining his feet, Gabe trotted toward his father. Grabbing him from behind, he lifted and propelled Jameson into the side of the truck in one smooth motion. Jameson’s muscles tensed but showed no other reaction.

  Jameson was in total shock. His mind was having trouble processing what was taking place. The first punch from Gabe glanced off the side of his face. The second connected with his nose, cocking it at a weird angle against his face. Two more fast jabs to his stomach. Jameson let out a grunt. If not for the truck holding him up, Jameson would have been hard pressed to remain standing. Smiling through the blood coming from his nose, Jameson wrestled for control of Gabe’s arms. Gabe backed off, eyes wild, and pointed in Jameson’s face.

  “If you ever touch her again I will fucking kill you!”

  Breathing heavily through gritted teeth, Gabe stared his father down.

  “So you do have a pair?” Jameson said, more impressed than angry. “You may be worth something after all boy.”

  Making himself stand up and away from the truck without flinching took a considerable measure of strength but Jameson pulled it off. Maintaining control and dominance was crucial at this juncture. Letting Gabe know that he was shaken up and hurt would shatter the image he’d projected. His hands trembled slightly as he forced his nose into the proper position. He closed his eyes to the pain.

  Eleanor was lying on the ground, hand to her mouth. Disbelief covered her features.

  “Now, clean that mess out of the bed of the truck. Then head inside. We’ve got to think this through and get this situation under control. And fast. All that aggression and anger will be useful in the coming hours. You’ve proven yourself and the timing couldn’t be more perfect.”

  Without answering, Gabe walked over and helped his mother to her feet. Her right cheek was an angry red from the slap and was likely to bruise at some point. Eleanor hustled inside, intentionally keeping her head forward. The door shut behind his mother and Gabe turned back to his father, still not uttering a word. He was prepared for shit to go down and a battle royale to commence.

  The words that had come from his father held no meaning to Gabe. A few sentences didn’t rectify a lifetime of wrongs.

  Taking a rag from his back pocket, Jameson wiped the blood from his nose and mouth. A smile on Jameson’s face was an uncommon sight, and two in the span of a few minutes… mind-blowing. With a nod to the blood-filled truck bed, he headed back inside.

  Something had changed. Both men knew it but neither knew how to address it any further. Gabe had switched roles from the helpless, cowardly victim to a person to be reckoned with.

  Chapter 7

  His heart rate finally slowed to a normal rhythm as the water from the hose rinsed away the blood from the truck bed. Standing with his back to the cab, he waved the hose back and forth, making sure to not leave any residue. It was sure to stain if it was given the chance to dry in the heat.

  Pride swelled within him.

  That was the first time he’d ever stood up to his father in such a monumental way. There had been the occasional off the cuff remark, or curse, but nothing as significant as what had just happened. Father… might as well call it like it is. He’s nothing more than a sperm donor.

  Jameson lacked any qualities that would be attributed to a man worthy of the title father. Loving, encouraging, supportive, protective. All words that could not be used to describe Jameson, even in the slightest. For as long as he could remember, Jameson had always used Gabe as his own personal punching/kicking bag. He could stomach the harsh words and treatment if it was aimed only at him but when it came to his mother and sister…

  No longer would he just stand by and be a witness to his father’s abuse towards his mother, sister, or himself. A seed started to take root in his mind. He knew what he would have to build up the courage to do if he wanted to protect the only people he truly loved and care about. He would have to get rid of the man who’d helped bring him into this world. He was going to have to kill his own father.

  Shouldn’t he feel some kind of sadness at even the thought of doing it? Thinking of being rid of his oppressive nature brought out feelings of happiness and a sense of freedom that he’d ever only dreamt about.

  Chapter 8

  The luscious figure exiting the kitchen in front of him had his undivided attention, leaving Mac oblivious to his surroundings. It had been two weeks since his last night with Kara Watkins but it may as well have been a lifetime. As she leaned forward next to him, asking what he’d like to drink and order, he felt a stirring. The top three buttons of her shirt were undone, giving him a generous glimpse and leaving little to the imagination.

  With a cough, Mac painfully shifted his gaze to her eyes and could tell she was amused, not offended in the slightest.

  “Um, a coffee, no cream, two sugar.”

  “Sure, anything to eat handsome?”

  Looking over the menu once more didn’t help him in his decision.

  “What would you recommend? I’m not really feeling a pull in any one direction so I’m open to trying something new.”

  With a smile, she leaned across him and bit down on her lower lip, pretending to scan the menu. Like she didn’t know what they offered. He breathed in her scent, some type of flowery perfume, and sighed.

  “I’d go with our stew as an appetizer, then perhaps the Jameson’s Catch of the Day for an entree. It’s one of our more popular requests.”

  Handing her the menu, Mac nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

  With a wink, she took the menu, brushing his hand in the process. She headed back to the kitchen, making sure to sway her hips, and shot a quick glance out one of the windows she passed. Water ran off the back of the truck in little streams, as Gabe hopped down, finished with cleaning it. She knew she wouldn’t have any trouble keeping the officer’s attention on her and off of what was happening elsewhere.

  Chapter 9

  The calls from dispatch continued to go unanswered. Having turned off his radio, assuming that Warren would take care of anything should something come through, Mac failed to hear it. If he had, he may have wondered why Warren wasn’t responding.

  He did wonder why Warren hadn’t come in yet but as the beautiful waitress ambled back over with his soup, he dropped the thought. Probably could use the much needed extra sleep. Who was he to interrupt that? He knew how troubled and stressful his life at home had been of late. The waitress placed the steaming soup in front of him with a smile and waited.

  The anticipation on her face was a clear indication that she wanted to know his thoughts onthe stew. The first bite reminded him of warm roast soaked in gravy… with a stronger flavor and different texture.

  “My God,” he said, stirring his spoon around, “it’s delicious! What kind of meat do you guys use?”

  Elena smiled and shook her finger as he took another bite.

  “It’s an original family recipe. Plus we don’t use anything store bought.”

  Mac jumped as a door slammed from the back of the restaurant. Elena’s demeanor shifted from doting seductress to a jumpy, nervous woman. Mac fell back on what he always did in uncomfortable situations. Try and alleviate the awkwardness.

  “I was going
to ask you to give my compliments to your chef, but it sounds like he may be busy at the moment.”

  A quick shake of her head and she was back in her playful mode.

  “I made the stew thank you very much,” she said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  He wasn’t too worried about what was going on in the back. Nothing that concerned him. Someone probably dropped some food or something and was venting their frustration at being clumsy. With a shrug of his shoulders he downed another spoonful of the savory stew.

  Chapter 10

  Hefting the officer’s limp body over his shoulder Jameson made his way carefully past the restaurant, avoiding any windows. The situation was already on the verge of unraveling. The last thing he needed was for the other cop to see his unconscious partner being carried by a stranger. Jameson would have Elena deal with him shortly.

  Taking one last glance at the road to make sure no cars were approaching, or unwanted observers passing by, he continued to the store room door. Opening the door wasn’t an easy task but he managed. Grunting, Jameson dropped the man to the floor in a heap. At this point, he didn’t care if the man hit his head or was injured even further.

  Slamming the door shut behind him, he stalked over to his work bench. Jameson tried to keep his anger and frustration from exploding out of him by gripping the sides of the bench tightly to the point of causing pain. He was on the verge of a breakdown.

  It was Gabe’s fault for not taking care of the evidence properly. That little shit always found a way to dig under his skin like a parasite seeking to drain him of his lifeblood. He’d been so careful over the years to avoid the attention of the police.