This just seemed funny to me, not sure where it's going now, my whole story has taken a radically different turn. Sorry for the delay, warmer weather means more motorcycle riding and less computer time. I'll try and put a bullet in this and end it as quick as I can without cheating the characters and general idea Constant Reader...MKAngelus
OLODL CH11
Carefully turning the knob, Jax pushed the door open and leveled his pistol at the bottom of the stairs, all the while reaching for the light switch with his free hand. He fully expected to get hit by a barrage of items thrown from the bottom of the stairs and in the split second where he couldn't see he was more frightened than he'd ever been in his life. The lights splashed on and he saw what had made the noise. Both women were untied and in an untidy heap at the bottom of the stairs, a small puddle of blood spread below them. It was impossible for him to say which one or maybe both of them were the source of blood. He expected a trick however, so kept his pistol pointed towards their mingled bodies as he crept down the stairs.
Stopping three steps from the bottom, he paused and knelt down in order to get a closer look; at that moment as if on a timed spring, Wendy jumped up and swung a pipe at him that he hadn't seen clutched in her hand. Falling back roughly, his elbow banged on a step and he inadvertently squeezed off a shot, ricocheting off the concrete floor he heard the whine of the bullet as it lodged in the cinderblock wall. Kicking out reflectively from his prone position, he connected with her shoulder on the backswing and knocked her over. Wendy toppled back towards Ima's body and fell with a thud on her knees.
"Jesus wept Wendy, what the fuck was that?" He yelled at her. Half tempted to put a bullet in her brain and at the same time disturbed by the faint feeling of concern for her wellbeing. Her harsh sobs were his only answer as he kept the pistol pointed at her and slid the rest of the way down the bottom of the stairs on his butt and legs until his feet were on the floor. She flipped her hair out her eye and looked up, pushing herself off of Ima, her hands leaving tacky bloody prints where they touched the floor and Ima's clothes.
"What do you mean Jax?" She asked sarcastically, "I'm sure you must have expected something to go wrong, when was the last time you held someone against their will and it went well you fucking moron?" She spat the last word out on a deep breath, her ribs hurt somewhere between being kicked and falling backwards with Ima she'd landed on her side and it was very hard to breathe.
"Let's start over," Jax tried again, pushing his own long hair out of his eyes as he carefully circled the two women, "First of is that dumb bitch dead?"
Wendy rolled her eyes and pushed herself up to a kneeling position, "I sure hope so, and this is all her fault anyways." She mumbled. Jax felt like he'd fallen into a Hunter S. Thompson novel and was stoned out of his mind seeing himself from outside his own body, this was so fucking weird. He actually closed his eyes and counted silently to five and opened them slowly, hoping to see his own bedroom and that he'd be lying in his bed. Sighing at the reality of it all he knelt down and rocked back on his heels, still holding onto the pistol and watching Wendy, while attempting to check for a pulse out of the non moving porn star.
"Yep, she's dead alright." He muttered out loud and glanced up at Wendy who was shaking with pain and fear. "So, Wendy, how did you find yourself tied up and in my mom's basement? It wouldn't have anything to do with the dead pig and trashed office at TM would it?" His tone conversational, Jax didn't realize he was doing the same thing his mom did and surprisingly it was just as annoying to Wendy as it was when Gemma did it to him.
Wendy looked around at her situation and was immediately reminded of the events that had started last night and consequently put the present into motion. "I didn't intend to end up here Jax," she started to cry, the pain in her chest and her situation came crashing down on her, collapsing to the floor, her knees no longer able to support her, "I really didn't." Sobbing now she was wringing her hands in her lap.
"Ima said all we had to do was mess things up a bit and you wouldn't want the publicity so you would do whatever I wanted, we wouldn't even have to go to court. All I wanted to do was see my son Jackson; I just wanted to see Abel."
Jax didn't know what was more pathetic that he was once married to this woman and had a child with her or that she actually thought that Ima could have enough of an idea that was worth following without consequences. "Wendy, I told you, Abel is not your son anymore, you gave up your rights when you shot your veins full of heroin. I told you that you wouldn't see him and you won't. What makes you think that this changes anything? You want to go to court? You really want to see what side of the law you end up on?" Jax didn't think that either one of them actually stood a chance after this little debacle but he didn't think that she would figure it out either.
They both looked at each other across the dead porn actresses' body, neither one of them knowing what to say. Jax started to stand and offered his hand to Wendy to help her up when there was a shot from the top of the stairs, shocked he fell backwards and fumbled his own gun up and pointed it at the top of the stairs, his legs spread sitting on his ass in a spreading puddle of porn blood, splatter from his now quite dead ex wife mixed into his hair and warmly running down his face.
Gemma stood at the top of the stairs, her pistol pointed at the base, a small tendril of smoke curling from the barrel and drifting towards the ceiling. "Well, that's enough of that nonsense," she said brusquely, "Come on Jackson, come upstairs I think I've got some of your things around somewhere, you need to get cleaned up. I've got Abel down for a nap, so be quiet. Just strip at the top of the stairs, I don't want blood on my carpet." her voice; as casual as Florence Henderson grew quieter as she walked away from the doorway towards the spare room.
Staring at the top of the stairs Jax finally exhaled. "Jesus fucking Christ." He said, running his hands through his hair again. "What the hell happened?" He asked the two dead women. Standing up, his legs unsteady he put the safety on his pistol and tucked it into the small of his back. The burn of gun powder was harsh and stifling in the narrow stairwell, and he sneezed.
"Are you getting a cold Jax?" His mom called her voice heavy with concern.
Jackson shook his head and laughed, he really didn't know what else to do. This was the most surreal experience of his life and he was all out of shock. Or, given the events of the night and morning, fully immersed in shock, he stopped a few steps from the top of the stairwell and pulled out his cell phone, dialing he put the phone to his ear.
"Dude, leave the kids with Chuckie and get your ass over to my mom's house, now. No, I can't…not right now. Seriously Opie I'm not in the mood okay? Yeah, fuck you too, just get over here. I guess so, hold on," he put his hand over the receiver and called out, "Mom?"
"Yes Jax?" She said as she rounded the corner, her arms full of towels and spare clothes, "What now?"
Feeling like he was six years old he looked up and said without any trace of humor, "Can Opie come over?"
She smiled and instead of the rabid wolf that she'd become, she looked like a normal, rationally thinking mom, "Sure honey, the more the merrier." She set the clothes down at the top of the stairs and walked towards the kitchen.
Laughing to keep from losing his fucking mind he returned to the phone call, "She said it was okay Opie, happy now you fucking tard?" He listened to Ope's response and hung up the phone. Looking back over his shoulder at the dead old lady and porn star at the bottom of the stairs, he wondered just what he'd have to do to go back to Stockton, where things were normal and sane.
