I raise my foot and bring it down on his groin. His eyes pinch shut, and he rolls to his side. With a guttural scream, I raise the weapon and bring it down on his hip. The ax head breaks through fabric and skin, then gets lodged in bone. Desmond keeps screaming as I place my foot on his thigh and wrench the weapon free.
“I didn’t write any vows,” I say. “I feel like this is where we should be saying our vows.” I raise the weapon and aim for thebloody spot, but I swing a bit wide and make a fresh gouge in his upper thigh.
Aven shakes his head and widens his stance. “Lass, watching you hack your father with an ax is the best vow you could have written. Actions sometimes speak louder than words.”
My mouth nearly waters as I watch him raise the ax. My very own Paul Bunyan. He swings for all he’s worth, and the ax takes off one of Desmond’s arms at the shoulder. Blood jets out, but Desmond only sees an opportunity. With the removal of his left arm, his right is now free. He unfastens the leg ropes, then reaches up to wrestle the ball gag from his mouth before rising to his full height and stumbling forward. All the while, his dismembered arm dangles from the rope tied to his other wrist.
Unfortunately for him, that hack job I did on his leg prevents him from getting very far, and he collapses before he even reaches the doorway.
He spins onto his back with a whimper as the mob approaches. Aven and I stand at the head, both of us wielding our bloody axes as if we’ve been possessed by Lizzie Borden. Forty whacks wouldn’t be nearly enough for this asshole.
“Any last words?” I say as I stand over him. “You were kind enough to offer me that, so I figure I should do the same.”
“Fuck you.” He spits at my feet.
Aven raises his boot and brings it down on Desmond’s teeth, reducing them to picket fences after a fight with a car. “You want to finish him off?”
I shake my head. “I don’t need that for closure. I’ve gotten everything I wanted, and that’s the best sort of revenge.”
“Aye, you’re right.” Aven pulls me in for a kiss. “Let’s give the honor to someone else.”
“Could I try?” a small voice says.
Everyone’s heads whip toward the entrance. We’re all shocked to see Gary standing there.
“Gary?” Frankie says. “You want to kill Desmond? What about your blood phobia?”
The tiny man licks his lips and takes a timid step forward. “I’m trying to get over it, but I think I just need to toss myself into the deep end. Can I...kill him?”
I offer my ax to him. “You have my blessing.”
“And mine,” Aven says.
Gary eyes the ax and shakes his head. “I don’t think I can use an ax.”
I remember the gun in my pocket and push it into his hand with a grin. “Try this, Gary.”
“No,” Desmond says. He repeats the word, starting at a whisper and rising to a scream. “You can’t let some nobody kill me!”
“Honey, that isn’t a nobody,” Eve shouts from the back. “That’s Gare Bear, and you’d better say his name with a little respect next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Gary says with an evil smile. Well, as evil as he can muster for a tiny little balding man with bug eyes and a dented skull. God bless him.
He raises the weapon and fires. Unfortunately, the bullet misses Desmond’s skull and lodges somewhere in the floor.
“It’s okay,” Maverick says, encouraging him. “Take your time, Gare Bear.”
He nods and fires again. This time, the bullet punches through Desmond’s gut.
Grim takes Rosie’s hand and leads her out of the room, ever the impatient one.
“I’ll get it this time,” Gary says, determined.
And he does. When he fires the weapon again, Desmond’s head rocks to the side as a vacancy sign slams over his eyes. The lights are still on, but no one is home. His chest heaves a few more times, weaker and weaker, and then he’s gone.
The group breaks into applause, and everyone claps Gary on the back for a job well done. The wedding is all but forgotten until Jim brings us back to the reason we’re all here.
“I won’t make everyone line up, but I still want to introduce the new couple for the first time. Exchange your rings.”
