“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.
