by Silla Webb
“Woah, woah. Did you just KISS Luke, Momma!?” Brailee squeals, her voice sounds excited, urgent and scared.
“Brailee,” Savannah warns her, her brow shootin’ up high into her forehead – a look I’ve never seen on her face before. Apparently, that’s the mom look. “I want you and Braden to understand that Momma loves you both and I’ll always put you both first in my life. I’ll always do what is best for you two. Y’all know that Luke is Momma’s friend, and he’s taken care of our family a lot over these last few months.” The twins shake their heads, hangin’ onto her every word like they know somethin’ monumental is about to be voiced. “Luke makes Momma happy. Luke loves y’all. So, we’re gonna live here, in Luke’s home with him. And you might hear Luke call me sweetheart and we might hug or kiss each other from time to time. Because that’s what people do when they care about one another. How do y’all feel about Momma being with Luke?” Savannah is always honest with her kids. Brailee smiles and hugs Savannah, then me.
“Momma, I love Luke, too. I’m happy he’s with us. We’re a family now.” My baby girl completely clenches my heart. I’ve doubted this blended family issue for a while, but it’s never caused me so much anxiety like it has today. Hearin’ Brailee say she loves me and I’m her family, truly touches my heart.
Braden seems a bit stunned, his mouth hangs open wide and his eyes are as big as saucers as he looks from Savannah to me.
“Ya alright, little man?” I ask him.
He nods his head up and down real fast and says, “This is so awesome. My momma is datin’ SUPERMAN!” A roil of laughter burst from my chest. I tug Braden closer to my chest and ruffle up his hair. Since he saw my Superman tattoo, the one over my heart in honor of my son, Sawyer, he’s been convinced that I am invincible.
“Alright y’all, we got that squared away. Let’s get settled in before it gets too late.” Savannah snuggles the kids close to her side, then links her fingers through mine, before opening the book and beginnin’ the story.
“Once upon a time,” she begins to read and with those first four words my mind trails off, lost in thought of my own fairytale.
Never believed my life would be whole again, not after losin’ Alyson and Sawyer. Although the pain of losin’ my family will never cease, findin’ Savannah was my fate. Our worlds collided like vehement waves of the perfect storm thrashing through the sea. Neither of us expected it, but both of us needed to be saved from our own pain and destruction. We have both given as much as we’ve received. Savannah gave me the strength to overcome the battles within myself and clung to me as if I were the only person who could salvage what was left of her life. Somehow together, we were able to mend the seams of each-others’ hearts.
Chapter Twenty Four
“Moore!” The guard shouts against the glass, clinkin’ his baton against the heavy steel door. “Scoot your ass. Gotta visitor.”
I continue my pushups ignorin’ the fucker, concentrating on my ragged breathing as I fight through the rage that consumes me. It’s never gonna dissipate. I had hoped that by setting Savannah free, somewhere deep inside my blackened heart I’d find peace. I was fuckin’ wrong. I’m at an even stronger war with myself now, the demons that I’ve tucked away for so long rearing their fuckin’ heads, tormenting and teasing me. After signing the divorce petition, I had a real bad fuckin’ day. Unfortunately, so did the fuckin’ prick who tried to rush me off the weight bench. The anger had been brewin’ for too damn long and I exploded, beatin’ his fuckin’ face against the concrete wall of the weight room. So I’m slummin’ it down in Solitary. And let me tell you, that hell I was livin’ in is the damn Ritz fuckin’ Palace compared to the bowels of Solitary confinement. I can smell the raw sewage seepin’ into the cracked basement walls, rats and mice runnin’ amuck, crawlin’ on me in my sleep.
“Final warning, asshole, or I’m tazin’ your big ass!” The guard barks out his warning maliciously. I press up to my feet and stride to the steel door placing my hands through the slot. He snaps the cuffs in place, instructs me to step back then slams the door open.
“Who the hell’s here for me?” I ask as he leads me through the corridor, silently hoping that it’s Savannah. I know it’s farfetched. After all she owes me nothing when I owe her everything. But it would be nice to apologize for wrecking her life face to face. Written words on a slip of paper can never do justice to the spoken word. At least then she could see that it’s heartfelt and endearing.
He shoots me a cocky sneer saying, “Fuck if I know who she is, but I wouldn’t mind findin’ out.”
He best pray to God he ain’t talkin’ ‘bout Savannah, or I’ll break his damn jaw. I’m shocked to have a visitor. James McCoy hasn’t been here since I signed the divorce petition a few weeks ago, and when I call asking for information about my case I get his secretary’s bitchy attitude and lame excuses which I’m fuckin’ tired of. I’m payin’ him good money to pull my ass from this hell, yet it seems he’s only workin’ to keep me in here longer. Drew, well, that fuck turned his back on me the moment our plan unraveled, feedin’ me to the lions to save his own greedy ass.
Instead of taking me to the inmate visitation room, the guard shuffles me down a separate corridor and into a private room which is empty. “Where the fuck is she?” I growl, craning my neck to look at him.
“Sit your ass down and be patient, Moore.” He shoves me down into the seat and I cast him a piercin’ scowl. Pisses me the fuck off bein’ touched, these bastards having control over me like this.
He slams the door closed, leaving me in silence while I wait for the mystery visitor. I know it ain’t Savannah or they’d sent me to the inmate visitation room, not here.
My patience begins to wear thin, the clock tickin’ on the wall the only sound filling the stark silence. After ten minutes, the door swings open and I glance up momentarily to see a suited prick and legs with long blonde tendrils stride into the small room. I cast my eyes back down to the peeling table top, brooding and angry from waiting so damn long. They both sit down scooting their chairs forward and the prick places a thick file on top of the table.
“Mr. Moore, it’s been a while.” I look up hearing the familiar voice and my jaw tics when recognition of the leggy blonde washes over me.
“What the hell, Alisa? Where’s James and who the fuck is this stiff clown? I didn’t ask for a damn substitute counsel so y’all can pack your asses back to James and tell him he needs to get his shit together!” I bark out, frustration clawing through my skin.
“Mr. Moore, my name is Agent Warren and I’m with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a couple questions.”
“Fuck’s goin’ on Alisa? Why would James allow a fuckin’ Fed to question me and send you in his place?” I bark out.
“Josh, I’m not here in James’ place.” She reaches into her bag and slides a small identification card across the table and I pick it up, twisting it in my cuffed hands to look at it. At first I don’t recognize the woman in the photo, but the harder I look, the more and more I can see it. Her hair is different, instead of the long platinum blonde tendrils of curls she wears now, in the photographs it as dark as night, neatly pinned at the nape of her neck. The seductive smile that usually graces her fuck me lips is pursed into a thin line in the photo, but her eyes are exactly the same.
I sling the card back in her direction and shoot up outta the chair, my eyes blurring over as rage fills my chest. “You’re a fuckin’ federal agent?” I shout.
“Yes, I am.” She confirms, confidently.
“Well ain’t this some fucked up shit.” I chuckle. This just keeps getting better and better. Alisa has been James McCoy’s secretary for a couple of years now. She’s also the office slut who fucks both James and Drew, hard tellin’ how many other clients she’s fucked. “Why the hell you here then, Alisa? Hell, you have all you’d need to toss all three of us under the fuckin’ prison. So tell me, why am I in here alone, while Drew and James both have their damn freedom?”
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br /> “Because we need your help.” She replies opening up the folder, pulling what looks to be pictures out and laying them across the table. “The FBI has been investigating Black Pike for a few years. Once you were arrested a team was sent in to test the chemicals and to prepare the mines to be closed off.”
She flips the first picture over and I try my damnedest to stay passive as I look over the familiar face that abused me as a teen. “This is Evelyn Hager, do you recognize her Josh?” She questions and I shake my head yes, because she already knows the fuckin’ answer. Hell, her son was one of my best friends growin’ up; that shit ain’t too hard for any average Joe-Shmo to figure out. “She was reported missing over ten years ago by her husband, Elliott Hager. The local and state police investigated her disappearance for months to no avail. Her husband mentioned he suspected she had been having an affair for years, but no evidence was clear to support the claim. Her case went cold until recently.”
She continues to flip the other pictures over and I grit my teeth together as my stomach rolls a vicious wave at the decaying corpse in the photographs. “Evelyn Hager’s body was found in the depths of Black Pike with two gunshot wounds to the head.” She glances up at me with her lips pursed thin, glaring at me inquisitively, gauging the shock that’s plastered to my face. “Care to explain how one of your best friend’s mother’s ended up dead in your coal mines, Josh?”
Two fuckin’ gunshot wounds to the fuckin’ head? Fuckin’ hell is goin’ on?” I cup my cuffed hands over my face, trying to steady my breathing. This has to be one sick fuckin’ joke.
“You gotta take control of what she took from you, Josh. You just ain’t been the same since she started her fuckin’ games.” Drew says.
“Fuck off, Drew! I’ll deal with this shit on my own. Don’t wanna do things your way. That ain’t me.” I spit at him through grit teeth. I know Drew’s pissed. Things have been fucked since he caught me chained to Evelyn’s bed with her ridin’ my dick two years ago. He knew then what had caused me to change so much and had been tryin’ to recover the old me since. But, the old Josh was dead and gone. I was a completely different guy. I was broody and angry, humiliated of the secrets that burdened me. I didn’t want to let anyone in. Fuckin’ hell, I just wanted to die. The time in my life when fuckin’ pussy should be the center of my universe, I was pushin’ every sweet ass that approached me away. I hated sex, the thought of it made me sick. What should be pleasurable and erotic had become a disgusting, gut wrenching act in my mind. Fighting was my release. It was my euphoria to escape my demons, to discharge the pent up hatred I felt. I craved control, refused to ever let another person touch me without permission and refused to ever fall at the hands of someone else.
“You want fuckin’ revenge? Take that shit! Give her a fuckin’ taste of the pain she inflicted on you!” He shouts in my face, the scent of bourbon heavy on his breath.
“Drew, you saw how outta control I got with Clay at the party last night? Damn bastard runnin’ off at the mouth.” I shake my head in disbelief. One guy shouldn’t feel this unhinged. I need fuckin’ help, not revenge. “I don’t know that I could stop with her. My restraint is diminishing.” He hasn’t let up on this shit for months. Tellin’ me that retribution is the only peace I’ll find from my abuse. I know he’s fuckin’ right. I want to see the fuckin’ fear in her eyes as I control her, taking back what she took from me. But I don’t want to be that man.
“Who the hell’s always had your ass, Josh? Either you get your revenge on that twisted bitch, or I’ll fuckin’ do it myself.” Drew bites out.
“Not your revenge to seek, Drew.”
“Yeah, true. But when the hell’s your bitch ass gonna set shit straight? I’ll be there in case shit gets heavy, brother. Elliott will be outta town again this weekend, and you know Chase is never home. It’s the perfect time.”
“I didn’t fuckin’ shoot her!” I snap, shooting up from the chair, pacing the floor nervously. I’ve done some bad shit in my life, I’m one depraved bastard. That bitch deserved to die, but I didn’t shoot her. “Brother? Fuckin’ hell he was!”
“JOSH! Sit down before I call a CO.” Alisa yells, but I continue to pace, my chest tightening with strife, confusion marring my face.
I snap my head towards Alisa and Agent Ball-Sack and with a malice laced timbre I say calmly, “Revenge. You wanna know what the hell happened to Evelyn Hager? It was fuckin’ revenge.” I seethe and my skin flames. “But I didn’t shoot her.”
“Revenge, huh? Well, why don’t you tell us about that, Josh? It seems you have enough motivation to seek revenge on Drew Varney and James McCoy as it stands. Let us help with that, legally.” Alisa replies, intrigued.
“What the fuck’s in it for me?”
“Depends on what you tell us and what charges we can slap Varney and McCoy with.” Agent Ball-Sack replies, stoically.
I chuckle, “Well y’all best get fuckin’ comfortable, because we’ll be here a long while.” I kick the chair back and sit down, prepared to finally unleash my demons from the darkest level of Hell…every fuckin’ one of ‘em.
Bonus Scene
One thing I cannot tolerate is insubordination. When I give an order, and I don’t give a flyin’ fuck who I give it to, they are expected to obey. If they are insolent to my commands, a debt is put on their head in whichever form I feel is necessary. The retribution may not be immediate. In fact, I prefer to draw my victims out, taunting them with a gentle threat. I get off making them lay in wait, watching them writhe in fear of the unknown. Yeah I’m a sick fuck like that, you know you love me.
Savannah was given an order: don’t visit Josh. Doesn’t matter why I didn’t want her to see him. She was given a specific order and she disobeyed me, her brother. I’ve been in Savannah’s life as long as Josh has, and yes, we had a very discreet plan against the fuckin’ Simon family. But in no way have I ever wanted to bring harm to her, specifically. I wanted what was rightfully mine, she was just the pawn that we utilized to perfect our plan.
Fuckin’ Josh had to have a heart.
But this isn’t about Josh and the ways he fucked me over. This is about Savannah.
I step in Big John’s old home office, taking in the family portraits that grace the walls – family portraits I should have been in. They always looked so happy with their perfect fuckin’ smiles. A bookcase lines the wall full of awards, trophies and medals. Savannah and Carly were his greatest prides in life. Me, I was the fuckin’ bastard son he so audaciously tossed to the side like a fuckin’ piece of garbage.
I sit back in his old leather desk chair propping my feet upon the desk and tip the tumbler of bourbon back to my mouth. I can’t help but wonder how many nights he did this very same thing, burning the midnight oil to keep his multi-million dollar coal company the boasting empire that it still is today. I hate the part of me that wants to feel close to him, the part of me that always wanted to make my father proud. No matter how hard I tried, I was never good enough. I was always his filthy secret, and his direct disgust and hindrance for me is what tainted me to the man I am today.
This should be my chair, my office, my house, my fuckin’ empire. I was his first born, his only son. Oh, but their debts won’t go unclaimed. I can promise you this. I’ve been taunting Carly since she took over the mines, using Josh as my fallout boy until he fucked up. But like the menacing man that I am, I have nothing but time and opportunity to finish my game with her.
Right now, the more pressing debtor that is owed to me is Savannah. Looking around this room, feeling the mockery of which they boast, it only encourages me to request my retribution now.
I stand up and casually stride downstairs to the kitchen, suddenly famished. It’s mid-afternoon and I’m such a busy man it seems as if I’ve forgotten lunch. I browse through the cabinets in search of the snacks. Ah-ha…Braden’s favorite – Doritos. I snatch a bag out of the cabinet then stroll back upstairs to Big John’s office.
I pull open the b
ag of chips, sliding one after the other into my mouth considering the shock this family will suffer from what I’m about to do. I love Braden and Brailee with all that my heart can feel, and although they are innocent to their parents’ betrayal, they too will suffer greatly at my hands. It pains me to cause them any grief, but I’m sure they’ll learn from these traumatizing, yet valuable life experiences.
I finish eating the chips, licking the cheese clean from my fingertips then wash it all down with one final drink of the Jim Beam. Big John loved his bourbon. That’s the one good memory I have of him, giving me my first bottle when I was sixteen. Been drinkin’ it since. Placing the tumbler down on the edge of the desk it topples over crashing to the floor. Oops, that’s a nasty mess. Hope it doesn’t stain the carpet. Eh, won’t much matter here shortly.
I take one last glance around the room, relishing in the deceit that crumbles the very foundation the Simon family has been built up on. I take the flathead screwdriver from my pocket and remove the outlet cover, stuffing the Doritos bag into the socket.
An old high school science experiment from my very favorite teacher, Mrs. Fields, if you will… the chemicals in the flavor powder, combined with the oily fat residue left from the chips, the Doritos bag makes for a nice combustion point to start a blaze. Didn’t put much faith in the lesson, so I had to experiment myself. Ended up burning an abandoned house flat to the fuckin’ ground at just fifteen years old. Oh what memories.
Pulling the zippo lighter from my suit jacket, I set the flame against the chip bag. I’m mesmerized watching the beautiful embers of gold and orange set, sizzles and snaps burst like music to my ear as the fire snakes through the electrical system. I replace the outlet cover and leave the house just as the flames begin to blaze wildly, smoke settling in my wake. An ear splitting smile stretches across my face knowing that this is just one more debt settled with many more to claim.
