I’m leaving Heaven to walk down the road of Hell, but sometimes, wings have to be shed in order to conquer the Devil himself.
Without giving them a parting glance, every step that puts distance between us, my heart aches, and doubt trickles through. Doubt if I can really do this. I’m young, a damn baby compared to the rest of them, and yes, I’ve served time, but I was a good sport about it. I was smart too, which is why no one touched my damn no-no squares while I was behind bars. Everything kind of came easy for me for the most part. I’ve never had to truly fight for something before. Fighting for myself doesn’t count because I lost that fight ages ago.
This is different.
I’m proving myself.
I open the garage door and toss my bag in the truck when I see an unmarked car outside. I can only see the gleam of the plastic from the headlights in the darkness. There is a figure standing against the car, and when the motion light turns on from when I step outside, I see Officer Howard. I groan when I realize what these assholes did.
They freaking got me a babysitter.
“I don’t need you here. You can turn around and go right back to the station for all I care.”
“I’m not here as a cop. I’m here as a friend. They called me because I have an unmarked car. Would you rather be with me in the crown vic instead of a truck that has a license plate on it than can lead anyone to find you?” Officer Howard says, igniting a cigarette.
That’s new. I didn’t think he smoked.
“It’s a new habit. I only have one day.”
“Shit will kill ya,” I say, reaching into the cab of the truck and getting my bag. I walk out into the night, fog slithering between the tree branches creating an eerie feeling that matches the heaviness of the situations.
“So can a goddamn bullet. I’ll take my chances,” he says around the butt of the cigarette as he opens the car door and slides inside. Cranking the engine, the crown vic comes to life, and I stare at the Cliff House one more time. The waves are silent besides a barely there ripple. Seagulls are quiet since it’s so late or early; I can’t figure out which.
I see movement from the window, and I can’t tell for sure who it is since it is so dark, but I can feel her. It’s Heather. She’s watching me. My heart yearns for her. I press my fingers against my lips and press my fingers to the sky, hoping she sees that I’m sending her a kiss.
I walk around the car and climb into the passenger seat, look out the window, and leave. The tires start to roll down the driveway, and we begin the journey to Petaluma.
“Whatever happens, you’re using my gun,” he pulls it out from the back of the seat, then grabs the silencer. “I’m a cop. I can get away with shit like this, unfortunately. I can say he attacked me when I saw him making a drug deal outside. The story will be easy to spin. You are not to use another gun, do you get me?”
“I get you.”
“Good.” Howard inhales a long drag, then blows the smoke out the window. “Sucks about your parents. I’ll say this, they deserve what is coming to them, but that doesn’t make it easy on you, and I’m sorry for that.”
“It doesn’t bother me. I hate my parents. I have for a long time. It’s what has happened to everyone else because of them that I can’t stand the most. All these years, I’ve been slowly involved with Richard, the guy that we tried to steal from. It’s a small world.” I wonder if Zeke knew that information linking me and Richard and Heather all that time ago.
“The world is a big place with even bigger coincidences. Don’t read too much into it.”
Right.
Only three dozen women died. How can I not read into it?
The ride over to Petaluma is quiet for the remainder of the trip. The smoke infiltrates my lungs, calming me, which I need.
I screw the silencer on the barrel of the gun, and Howard turns on the radio to some twangy country music. The banjo music is fitting, creating a murderous atmosphere as we make our way through the hills.
I wait for nerves to hit, for fear, the want to turn the car around, but all I feel is excitement for the past to finally be over and to stop looming. Grace will be able to rest in peace, Heather can live freely, and all of those women can be at rest knowing the man that help put them in the grave.
The hum of the tires nearly has me falling asleep. I’m in and out of sleep, and I don’t know if I’m dreaming or if I’m in a state in between, or if I’m awake, but before I know it, Howard is nudging my side.
It takes me a minute to realize where I’m at. I’m at the end of the road I grew up on, and Howard has parked the car near the membership tennis courts. There is a gated entrance, and I forgot about that. There’s a security guard, but he rotates with someone else every hour, which gives a five-minute window of freedom.
There are ten minutes until three in the morning hits.
I expect us to wait, but Howard drives up to the gate and flashes his badge. The security guard doesn’t even question Howard and opens the gate, but then Howard does something unexpected. He takes out a small gun and out the window and shoots.
I jump when the soft air puffs, and a dart is sticking out of his chest. The guard looks down, confused; then his eyes roll back as he slumps against the wall. Howard opens up the door, steals the security footage, and climbs back in the car.
“He will be fine in a few hours, don’t look at me like that,” Howard puts the car in drive, and we slowly drive down the paved road.
“People are going to be looking forward to a suspicious car after the new guard comes in—”
“There isn’t a new guard. It’s been too long since you’ve done your research. They had lay-offs. That guy is on the clock until seven in the morning. We have plenty of time to get in and out without being noticed.” He comes to a slow stop, the brakes squeaking as we pull up to the oversized house I grew up in. It’s uglier than I remember it, and that might be because of who lives inside.
“Ready?” Howard takes another gun from the inside of his ankle and cocks it.
“Uh, you don’t have to come; this is my gig.”
“I got your six. Other than that, revenge is all yours, buddy.”
“You’re a glorified babysitter,” I mumble, opening the car door and clicking it shut softly.
“I’m an unmarked car and a cop. You’re lucky I’m on your side.”
“I would have been fine without you.”
“Oh, okay, sure. Which door are you going to go in?”
“The front,” I say obviously.
He rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d say that. So you’re going to ring the doorbell? And then what?”
“Pew, pew,” I say, pointing the gun in the air.
“God, you’d never make it as a cop. Let’s go before I have to arrest you for stupidity.” Howard shoves my shoulder, and I fumble toward the curb, barely catching myself until my feet are on the grass. The plantation house is old but in good condition. As we creep around the house, there are a few guards outside, but not wealthy political guards, the slimy kind. They are all muscle, dressed in black, and speaking Russian, or maybe German.
Yeah, dad’s in pretty shady shit. Usually, bodyguards for politicians are in nice suits.
I aim to kill.
The bullet leaves the gun quietly, and both of their heads tilt back before they fall on their face. I run up to the side of the house and open the side of the door, making my way into the loveless home. I expect silence, but I hear my mother’s voice coming from the den, followed by a loud ringing gunshot.
And everything falls quiet, like freshly fallen snow on a winter day. It’s so silent and beautiful, but there are horrors somewhere hiding in the white.
Another shot has me and Howard sharing a look before we are running to my father’s room. When we open the door, my dad is lying on the floor with a gunshot in his chest and blood pooling on the floor, while my mother is lying on top of him, half her head blown off.
“Holy shit, murder-suicide.”
“But why?�
�� I ask.
“For this,” Howard enters a room where there are pinpoints on a map around the globe. Pictures of new girls and pictures of FBI agents on their tail, closing in.
They knew they weren’t going to get away.
“Damn it,” I roar, cock the gun and point it at my dad’s head, and fire.
The assholes found an easy way out. They always did.
“Your name should be cleared, considering they have an entire file on you and what happened seven years ago.” Howard holds it up.
Sure, there are good things to come out of this, but what about my revenge?
“You always have to one-up me, don’t you?” I sneer at him, aiming at his face again and pulling the trigger.
Peace is here, but it came too easy.
I wanted more, but I guess in a way I have more than he will ever have.
I have a family.
I have Heather.
I’ve found heaven while my parents are going to rot in hell.
For the most part, I guess that’s the best revenge isn’t it?
Nineteen
Heather
It’s been twenty-four hours since Asher has been home, and I’m worried sick out of my mind. He called Sebastian and updated him, and apparently, he got there just in time to witness his parents' murder-suicide. I hate that for him, but I also understand how angry he is right now. He wanted to be the one to get revenge. He wanted to be the one that ended it all, and now he won’t be able to.
Sebastian got the file digitally from Officer Howard about clearing Heaven’s name, and he is already working on it. I don’t know how long that will take, but I’m glad it’s going to happen. Heaven wasn’t the one that pulled the trigger, but he found everything he needed to make a better life for himself and bring the person responsible justice.
I wait at the window for him to pull up in the car. Officer Howard had to clear things up with the local police department. He called in a favor to my dad, and my dad was able to finally clear things up. If I wanted, I could go home.
But I’m not going anywhere unless it is with Asher.
Everything is in the clear now. We can live a normal life. I hope one day he will be able to see that sometimes justice doesn’t have to be served by pulling the trigger, sometimes things just work themselves out for the better, and that’s when the good wins in the world.
“Watching the wind blow won’t have them come home earlier,” Owen says from behind me.
“I know,” I chew on my thumbnail and think I see something coming down the driveway, but I don’t. It’s just the shadow of the tree…
Because the wind is blowing.
“He’s going to be pretty bummed that he didn’t do this himself. I think he really wanted to prove to us and you that he could protect you and do what everyone else here does. He had never killed before. This was a big decision for him, and honestly, I’m glad he didn’t have to. Heaven has this…” Owen tries to find the words. “He has this super beautiful, kind, honest, happy soul, and he didn’t have that when you left.”
“But he killed the guards and was fine. Isn’t that what he said?” I asked, suddenly confused.
“He’s never had to kill someone he loves. That would have ruined him; no matter how much he hated his parents, Heaven still found a place for them in that really big sensitive heart of his. Killing his parents would have haunted him. He would put on a brave and happy face, but I think we all know better. Heaven isn’t like the rest of the guys. He is young, a bit naïve, and that’s what he loves about him. He goes with us on jobs, but we make sure he doesn’t do the killing. That’s up to me, Jaxon, and Grayson. Sebastian stays behind on his computer. Heck, even killing those guards, I bet he is going to struggle with it. It doesn’t matter that they were the bad guy. He will think, “Damn, what if they had wives or kids? What if they had brothers or sisters, and now, they have to mourn them? That’s his mind. He’s kind. He’s the fun-loving guy, the guy that wears his heart on his sleeve.”
“I love his heart exactly where it is at. It’s what makes him human, no offense, but the rest of you guys are robots sometimes.”
“I know, and it’s why when he comes home, he is going to need you the most. He gets mad at us when we treat him like a kid, but what he doesn’t understand is, he is our little brother, you know? The baby brother, the one we need to protect at all costs. We don’t want him to end up jaded like us, but I think killing those two guards might have put a dent in his armor.”
“That’s okay,” I say honestly, looking out the window and wishing that car would pull up to the house. “I’ll make sure to smooth out all of his pain and dents until he feels like himself again.” I lay my hand flat against the window when the unmarked car comes to a stop in the driveway. I spin around and dash toward the kitchen, sliding on my socks as I try to take the corner. I grab the counter for leverage, so I stop myself from falling. A few of the guys smirk at me when they see my excitement, and Sebastian is already by the door, opening it for me, and presses the button to the garage. I dash between the wall and the truck, careful to miss the mirror, so it doesn’t hit my shoulder, which still aches because of my father.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I say impatiently at the garage door as it lifts, making it sweet ass time. When there is enough room for me to duck under, I do. Heaven is out of the car in no time, not even shutting the car door. We run to one another and I slam against his chest with a hard thud, but it doesn’t even hurt because it feels to good to be in his arms again. “I’m so glad you’re home,” I say, snuggling into the warmth of his chest.
He smells…
Really bad.
I take a step back and crinkle my nose. Howard chuckles and Heaven pulls his shirt to his nose, wincing when he smells himself. “Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks Howard.
“Because I smell just as bad. It’s why the windows are down. The care reeks.”
“How about we get in the shower?” I ask, taking his fingers in me and leading him through the garage. “I’ll bath you from head to toe.”
“Oh, what else?”
“I’ll…wash your hair? Slowly?”
“And what else?” he growls, lowering his voice. I can tell he is putting on his best effort not to get down in the dumps. He has the darkest circles under his eyes and the light that usually radiates from him is gone.
I’m going to bring it back.
I’m going to ignite his one-of-a-kind soul back to life.
“I’m going to give you a nice massage and then I’m going to leave you alone so you have the sweetest dreams.” I tease him as we enter the door and the guys are there to great him, but they don’t say anything, just a quick pat on the back as I drag him to our room.
His room.
No, our room.
Because I’m not going anywhere.
“You’re really going to leave me alone?” he pouts as we enter the room and closes the door.
I shrug off my shirt, then my pants and walk backward to the bathroom. “No, silly, but I am going to take care of you. Come on.” I reach into the shower and turn it on, letting the spray get nice and hot.
I’m leaning against the wall when he enters the bathroom, naked, and the slight easy-going demeanor is gone. I can see the stress lines on his face, right around his eyes and his mouth. His hair is greasy, and I can tell he is about to fall flat on his face. Opening the shower stall, I make sure to stay silent because sometimes, that’s all a person needs.
They don’t need to talk.
They don’t need advice.
They just need someone in their corner, their space, offering comfort.
He groans when the water hits his back, and he doesn’t even stand. He sits down on the bench only after a few minutes, letting the water soak his head as he leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees.
Defeat.
I see a strong man churning with the sea of stronger emotion, which is one of the things I love most abo
ut him. I step inside the shower next and grab the shampoo, squeezing a good size amount in my palm before lathering and slipping my fingers around his head. I massage his scalp, then squeeze the strands as the shampoo foams. He moans, tilting his head back as he enjoys being taken care of.
I don’t know about anyone else, but I can always tell the difference between water droplets and tears.
And Asher is shedding a few.
“They are gone,” he says in a small voice, and his shoulders hitch as he tries to not mourn for his parents death. Owen was right, Asher isn’t like the others, but his empathy is what makes him such a damn good human being and why everyone here needs him to stay the way he is.
He makes everyone feel better after so many rounds of defeat, but who is there to make Asher feel better? What about his heart and mind? Who is there to soothe it after an impossible day?
There was no one before, but there is me now.
I don’t say anything because nothing I can say will make him magically heal.
“I know they were bad people. I hated them. I despised them. Prison was better than living with those heartless asshole,” he vents, his lashes sticking together from the water.
I continue to clean his hair, taking my time to relax him like he deserves.
“But they were still my parents. At the end of the day, it was the woman who used to make me hot chocolate when I was a kid after I had a bad dream. It was the man that taught me how to fish when turned eight. I don’t know what happened after I grew up. I will never understand what happened to them, but I’m still allowed to hurt, right?” he opens his eyes, seeking validation from me. “You don’t need to answer that. Of course I can’t hurt, look what he did to you?”
Pushing he head back, I run my fingers through his hair to get the shampoo out and the white soap slides off and falls to the shower floor, right into the drain. “Asher, you are allowed to feel whatever you want to feel.” I frame his jaws with my fingers and lean forward. My hair falls around us like a veil, giving us a secret space only he and I can share. “You aren’t a bad person. You have this…extraordinary heart.” I gently place my hand over his left pec, loving the strong beat against me. “You wouldn’t be who you are if you weren’t mourning them. You can be sad. You’re sad for who they used to compared to who they are because who they were, you didn’t recognize them. I don’t blame you for needing to be sad about losing your parents.”
Cruel Captivation: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 5) Page 17
