February
San Francisco, California
Normally together Clay usually knows his own feelings, but he has never felt so conflicted over someone in his life. He was really blown over by Chris and really excited about getting to know him, but being stood up by him made Clay want to strangle him. Chris did say that he had a good explanation for it, and he did ask to see him again, but Clay had begrudgingly declined his offer because his pride was hurt. He was now regretting it. Clay insisted that he wasn't moping about over Chris, but Bianca would disagree, and she would constantly tell him to get over his rejection.
Clay sighed. "I don't get it. We made plans, but he never showed up. I waited for about an hour on him like an idiot. He never answered my calls, I text him once and he still didn't respond. Then around one in the morning I get a text from him apologizing for not calling me. He wants to see me later today. Should I give him a second chance or just walk away?"
"You just have to move on," Bianca sighed, sitting next to Clay with a cup of coffee in her hand. "If it was meant to be, he'd meet you. There are plenty of guys out there."
"I know is should get over him," Clay agreed. "That's why I have a date with someone I met online recently. He' not as awe inspiring as Chris, but he will take my mind off things...hopefully."
"That's the spirit," Bianca said, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Just be mature and chill, it's not a big deal at all. Carry on like you never said anything, but don't deny you did either. The right guy will like you back eventually. And at least he rejected you right away and you know to move on. Chin up darling."
"You're right," he said, spinning his coffee cup on the table. He looked at his sister. "How are you today? Sorry, I don't know the answer to your question, but you seem to be doing a little better."
"I'm taking it one day at a time," she replied. "Some days are harder than others. Things will get easier. I will start to have more good days again, but I know I will still have some bad days. I know Austin wouldn't want to see me depressed and sad all the time. I have to say that I'm glad that you're here. I wouldn't have got through these dark times without you."
Clay stood up and hugged his sister. "Grief is messy and painful. Allow yourself to feel what you feel and take time to be sad. Trying to hurry yourself through can cause grief to last longer or pop up later if you haven't taken the time to deal now."
His eyes drifted towards his clock on the wall above her head. His date with the man he had met online was in half an hour, but he had to walk to the cafe because his car was off the road. Grabbing his coat, he said goodbye to Bianca and left the apartment they shared Austin's murder. As he strolled, his mind was filled with the contemplation of how today would end. If it ended well, he would possibly go home with the online suitor, but that would on happen if there if there was a connection. Although, nothing would rival the one he felt with Chris.
As soon as he entered the cafe he saw Tony. He was cute: blonde with bright blue eyes. Clay's nerves began tingling. His palms were sweating as he shook Tony's hand. He introduced himself. "Tony? I'm Clay. I'm so glad that you look like your picture."
Tony smirked. "I'm glad that I didn't disappoint you."
He spoke to soon. During the next hour It was quickly determined that neither of them had anything in common. Tony was rather dull; he has little or no interest in the life around him. He lacked opinions, had no personal interests, and give no feedback in conversation. So, Clay excused himself to go to the bathroom, but he never came back.
Happy to escape, he began walking back to his apartment. It was a pretty horrendous first date, and it was vowed that he would never go on a blind date ever again. He panicked as he felt his phone vibrating inside his pocket. It was probably Tony asking where he was. To his surprise it was Chris.
The endorphins whizzed throughout his body. Maybe he should give Chris another chance? He didn't listen to his explanation for not turning up on their, date and it may be a good one. He texted Chris back, and arranged to meet him outside the entrance of Golden Gate Park.
Clay was not the anxious type, but watching Chris approach turned him into a nervous wreck. He got this heavy feeling right by his heart. It's almost as if I was having some heart burns. Obviously the heart was beating faster. His mind went blank. All he was doing was staring at him as he stopped in front of him. Chris's lips pulled into the devilish smirk of his.
"Hey, I'm sorry that I stood you up," Chris apologised. "But I had to go to Vegas to visit my cousin who is in hospital. He's looking pretty bad."
Clay noticed the worry in his eyes and he could tell that he wasn't lying. "I'm sorry to hear that. How much time does he have left?"
"No, no, no," Chris responded. "It's not like that. Basically, he had a nervous breakdown or something..."
"Oh, that's tough. Healing after a nervous breakdown takes time, months before you feel like you are "yourself" again. Think of what it is like to fall into water unexpectedly. It takes awhile before you can find balance and a firm place for your feet to touch to steady yourself - even longer to climb back out of the water," Clay said, watching Chris raise an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm a nurse at Memorial Hospital. I was training to be a doctor, but I decided to train as a nurse instead. It takes a lot of work and dedication to become a doctor. You have to go to college, then to medical school and then become a resident. I wasn't able to get a full scholarship to college. Plus, there is a shortage in nurses, and I believe nurses get more respect, but not as much as the doctor's of course."
Chris laughed nervously. "Oh, you're a nurse? That must be exciting? I looked into nursing, but I somehow broke into the funeral trade. The best thing about my job is that I wear a top hat. We are normal people, just like everyone else. I hope that doesn't make you thinking that I'm a morbid fucker or something."
"I don't," Clay smiled. "It's a job I couldn't do, so I will give you props. "It's very contradictory that I work with the living and you work with the dead. We'd make a very paradoxical couple."
Oh shit, that wasn't mean to have come out like that, but Chris just smiled at the comment as the pair sat down on a stone bench. The sun was setting and the clouds boasted mystical colours. He was drawn towards Chris like a magnet. He just hoped Chris felt the same way about him.
"So, where do you stay?" Chris asked, spinning his coffee cup in his hand. "You haven't mentioned."
Clay's eyes shifted. "I have my own flat in the Bay area, but I'm staying at my sister's house because she is going through a bad time. Her husband just passed away. She is torn apart by the grief, but trying to act like everything is normal, and I'm scared she is going to break down one day. I'm going to be there when her wall finally crumbles."
"I'm sorry to hear about hers and your sadness," Chris said, standing. Chris's eyes shifted towards an overlooking apartment building. "See the very top apartment with the green roller blinds? That is where I stay. Do you want to back to mine for another cup of coffee?"
"Yes," Clay replied, with no hesitation. "I mean sure...Why not?"
Chris's studio apartment was spotless because he has inherited his mother's mania with cleaning. You could the entire park from his bedroom window. Decorated with neutral tones, artistic pieces and wooden furniture, it gave a slight glimpse into Chris's personality.
"You have a lovely place," Clay complimented, looking out Chris's bay window. His eyes shifted from the view to Chris's reflection as he stood behind him. He turned around to face him. He stared at Chris for a few seconds. "You should be in magazines for those eyes of yours."
Everything stood still for a moment, everything faded into the background, and all he could hear was the beating of his heart. The person before him is all that mattered, all he wanted.
"You know, I realised where I know you from," Chris enlightened. "You play bass in a band called Transpired? I think I saw your band play last June at Steele's."
"Yup, that's me," Clay smiled. "If you enjoyed the gig you can see us next week at Sampler. We're headlining. It should be a good gig!"
"I think I may pop by if you put me on the guest list," Chris hinted, trying to act coy. Clay nodded in response. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea. I haven't been out in a while because he won't let me..."
Chris stopped talking. He remembered that Clay didn't realise he is schizophrenic. He would probably go running if he mentioned that can't differentiate the false voices from the real ones. Luckily, the voices were merely a whisper today, and he could concentrate on Clay.
"Are you talking about an ex?" Clay questioned, noticing that Chris had become gloomy. "Was he controlling you or something? I know the type because my sister's husband had a controlling personality, but he didn't show the signs until you got to know him for who he really was. I know it sounds terrible that I'm speaking ill of the dead, but I didn't always agree with the way he treated her."
"Yeah, it was something like that," Chris responded, running his hands awkwardly through his hair. "Sometimes, he still has an iron grip on me."
"Don't let him control you anymore," Clay whispered, stepping forward and stopping before Chris. "Don't have any connection with this person. You are the only one in control of your emotions. What can this person really do to you? Hurt your feelings. Give yourself some credit. You have worked hard to get past your fear. How long ago did you cut connections with this person? How much longer are you willing to let this be a part of your life. Because it will go away when you truly let it go."
Chris leaned into Clay and kissed him. If felt like Clay's soul was being sucked through his lips, empowered with a jolt of energy, flowing back into him, and running throughout his body, it was intense. He wished that moment had lasted forever.
"So," Chris hinted, looking backwards the direction of his bed. "How do you feel about staying the night? If you don't want, I get it."
"I'd like to, but I need to check on my sister," Clay insisted, letting go of Chris. "Is it okay that I give her a call to let her know that I won't be back?"
"Sure," Chris said, pointing to the direction of his en-suite. "You can go in there for a bit of privacy."
"Thanks," Clay walking to the en-suite and pulling out his cell phone. He looked back at Chris before he closed the door over. "I'll be quick as I can."
Even for him sex was an extremely emotional act. It leaves the other person with power over you, because they have seen you at their weakest. Not being emotionally or mentally ready means you wouldn't be able to handle giving someone power over you... And many people aren't always ready for the possible consequences of the act. However, he was prepared to be vulnerable with him. There was something unexplainable between them. He had to trust his instincts.
He phoned Bianca's mobile and got her voicemail. He assumed that she was sleeping. "Hey, I won't be home tonight, but don't worry about me because I have met up with Chris. I'll explain later. If you need anything, let me know and I'll be home as soon as possible."
Clay's head was pounding with such intensity that it gave a drummer a run for his money. The nerves about having sex had begun to kick in. When he tilted my head, he half-expected it to spill. Opening Chris's bathroom cabinet, he looked for some pain killers and was disappointed not to find any, but instead he found a bottle of pills with the label 'Chlorpromazine.' It sent him into a state of shock.
He was knocked for six that Chris was schizophrenic. He was the most beautiful and thoughtful human being, and Clay did think that he was too good to be true, but he didn't expect this. Could he handle being with someone who was controlled by the voices in his head? Truthfully, he didn't know. However, he knew that he needed time to seriously consider it. Clay opened the door to the bathroom and saw Chris looking thoughtfully out of the window. Chris snapped his head around quickly when he heard the door slam shut. It frustrated him that Clay with no explanation.
By the time Clay arrived home he had three texts, five missed calls and four voicemails. He turned off his phone as he gave a long sigh. Dealing with Chris was tomorrow's problem. A moment of panic set in realising that Bianca was home. Turning on his cell phone again, he called his sister and worriedly waited for a reply. It came, two hours later, but it didn't explain where she was.
Bianca loved nightclubs; the multicoloured strobe lights, the blaring bass that makes the room shake, and watching the dancing bodies as they tangled together. She hadn't been to her local haunt with green neon signs that aligned the walls, the high ceiling with fairy lights hanging from it, and a balcony upstairs with booths to sit since her engagement to Austin. This was once her second home, a place she felt safe because everyone knew her. She couldn't handle being alone right now.
The alcohol seemed to curb the emptiness inside. It feels like nothing matters anymore and that nobody cared about her, despite the contrary. It's a horrible feeling that wouldn't go away. She had to get used to facing the world on her own without Austin.
"Penny for your thoughts," said a female voice, sitting beside her. Bianca turned her head to look at the woman. "A problem shared is a problem halved."
"My world feels like it is imploding," Bianca frowned, spinning her drink in her hands. "My husband died last month. I built my life around this man and I feel like I am left with nothing. I don't know anyone in this town and this is why I go out by myself lots of times. In fact, that would make me feel worse. My heart is broken. I feel like a huge piece of my life is missing... I feel lifeless. I was doing well with staying busy, starting new hobbies and so on, but I don't feel the energy to do these things anymore. Why me? Any words of hope or suggestions would be nice."
"Honey, I'm not going to say it will be easy because no one ever said it would be, "sympathised the woman. "Stay positive so that positive things can happen around you. You may feel like crying sometimes, and that is fine. Don't suppress your feelings, girl. Let it go because it will help. Know that what you are going through right now is not only for you, but you will be able to help someone that is going through something similar one day."
"Very impressive," smiled Bianca. "Are you a councillor or something? That was really good advice."
"Actually, I'm just a psychiatrist's wife," replied the woman. "I spend a lot of time reading his psychiatry books because he is never at home. For the longest time, I've felt totally alone in our relationship. We never do anything together. I'm starting to think that our marriage is too far gone."
Bianca picked up her drink. "If that was me I would leave him, it's no use dragging on with a guy who clearly takes you for granted! You'll spend the rest of your life crying over the fact that he doesn't give you enough importance, and it's a miserable feeling...you deserve better than him. Hang on till you meet someone who treats you like a princess throughout your life, not just through the initial fairytale months."
"That's what I feel inside, but I love him too much," exhaled the woman. "I guess it's a common attribute of a Phoenix man to disregard the feelings of a Phoenix woman. They are a bunch of archaic bastards."
Did she just say Phoenix? Bianca looked at the woman for a subtle giveaway that the woman was a Phoenix. She located a birthmark on her right forearm. The woman reached forward and grabbed Bianca's hand. Her brown eyes landed on the birthmark on her right wrist.
"I take it that you are not active within the California Chapter," asked the woman, not recognising Bianca. "I would definitely be familiar with your face if you were. My husband is the director of the California Chapter."
Bianca pulled her wrist away. "Yes, I'm not, but my husband Austin was..."
"Wait...Austin as in Austin Gray?" enquired the woman, making Bianca nod. The woman's eyes darkened. "Sweetie, I heard some rumours about what happened to him. Are they true?"
"Which rumour? The one where he was shot on our honeymoon?" snapped Bianca, her anger rising. "Or was it the rumour about the monster that killed him raping me repeatedly?"
The woman sat in a shocked silence for a few minutes. "I never heard anything about a rape. I'm so sorry that it happened to you. I think monsters like that should be executed. Something like what happed to you scars people for life. These monsters don't see anything wrong with what they do either... "
Bianca began to cry, finally acknowledging something so painful that she had kept hidden deep within her brain. This woman felt the same way about the monster as she did. She began to contemplate if she could use the woman to get into the Coven. It was a tangible possibility.
"Hey," hushed the woman, wrapping an arm around Bianca's shoulder. "You'll get through this, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but a day will come when everything will be easier. You'll be happy again."
"I hope so," sniffled Bianca, brushing away some tears. "I'm so sorry for all of this. I don't normally tell my business to strangers. It has taken me completely off guard."
"Don't apologise," stated the woman. "It seems that listening to other people's problems is something that Auntie Hazel is good it. "
"We'll thank you, Hazel?" said Bianca, holding her hand out. Hazel smiled as she shook it. My name is Bianca, and if there is anything I can do for you let me know. Actually, if you fancy an aromatherapy massage or something I'm your girl! I'm a trained holistic therapist. I'll even do it for free as a trade for some more counselling."
Hopefully Hazel would accept the offer because it would get her one step into the coven. This would be one step closer to Austin's murder and her rapist. Then she would get her revenge on the entire coven.
"You know what, I'll take you up on that offer," Hazel agreed, standing up from her barstool. "Let's go the now and I'll pick up some more liquor. We'll have a girly sleepover, without the pillow fights in our underwear, of course. I couldn't stand another night alone in that big house of mine."
Hazel hated being alone too. During the short ride in the taxi, she gave Bianca her life story. She met her husband when she was eighteen, married him at the age of twenty one and since then she stayed at home as a home wife. Not happy with this way of life anymore, she told her husband she wanted to start a career, but this was something her husband quickly vetoed. It was something Bianca he experienced too. She had to give her job when she became engaged to Austin. Phoenix men were notoriously traditional. Phoenix woman had to stay at home and look after children, or the alternative was working for the Coven in some capacity.
"You really have the magic touch," complimented Hazel, feeling Bianca run her hands up and down her back. "If I was you I would open my own business or something. You would make a lot of money!"
"I used to have my own business, but never again!" Bianca disclosed, ending the massage. "It was too much stress. However, I think I will try and get a part time job at a spa. Try and take my mind off everything."
"I think I may join you," Hazel said, beginning to get dressed as Bianca cleaned up. "Well, not massaging, but something that motives me to get my bed out of the morning."
"Good for you!" encouraged Bianca, pulling her mobile phone out of her pocket. She noticed a text from Clay. She replied to it. "Do what makes you happy, not what makes your husband happy. Well, thank you for tonight, but I better go home."
"Don't be silly! Stay here" insisted Hazel, walking towards the hallway and motioning Bianca to follow. "You can stay here in the guest bedroom. Get breakfast here tomorrow then go home. I wouldn't feel right about sending you home in a taxi at this time of night."
Bianca's exhausted eyes looked at the Queen-sized bed with silk sheets. She agreed to stay because she may get a better sleep here than her own house. The horrifying flashbacks still haunted her. The house was currently up for sale because she counted lived there after Clay moved back to his own apartment. It was only a matter of time before he moved out. Hazel retired to her bedroom, thankful that the house wasn't empty, it was comforting. Bianca surprising fell asleep easily.
Ten hours later, Bianca woke up feeling incredibly rested and energised. After showering in the guest room's en-suite, she applied her makeup, and contemplated asking Hazel if she could borrow some jeans to make her look more presentable. She would get a lot of raised eyebrows if she walked home in a black sparkly dress.
She heard movement in the hallway outside and presumed that Hazel was awake. After making herself look more respectable, she made the bed and made her way towards the kitchen. She got a shock to discover that it wasn't Hazel in the kitchen, but someone she didn't expect to see again. Damon dropped his bowl of cereal on the floor because he was knocked for six by her presence in his home.
Damon looked at his breakfast on the floor. "Umm...sorry, but I didn't know that my wife had guests. I mean I assume that Hazel knows that your here?"
"Oh hey, yeah Hazel knows I'm here," she said, observing his relaxed appearance. He was dressed in sweats and his hair was swept over his forehead and not flawlessly slicked back. He began to clean up the mess on the floor. "We were hanging out last and she said that I stayed here last night. Is that okay with you?"
Damon smirked as he straightened up. "Of course it is! It's most man's fantasy that his wife brings an attractive woman home."
"I bet," Bianca laughed, feeling uncomfortable. "Is it okay that I grab something here to eat because I'm starving?"
"Let me see," he said, turning away from her and opening some cupboards. "I have eggs, bagel and some cereal. Does anything take your fancy?"
"Hmmm...Some bagels if you have cream cheese," Bianca contemplated, licking her lips. Damon began to prepare her breakfast and handed it to her when it was prepared. Bianca looked hungrily at her plate. "Thanks, that looks delightful."
"Not a problem," he smiled. "Preparing bagels is one of my many talents. I'm so glad that you didn't ask me to make a Spanish omelette. You'd be greatly disappointed."
She laughed. "I'll count myself lucky then!"
What was wrong with her? She must still be really fucked up. He isn't available! That should be enough to put her off; she needs a man who will be able to feel the same about her and treat her with the love and respect she deserves. She began to feel guilty about having a crush because of Austin. Although, he has ran through her mind a few times since that near miss kiss. Same for him!
"Hey, gorgeous," Hazel greeted, walking into the kitchen in just a robe. She kissed her husband good morning as Bianca looked away awkwardly. Hazel stroked her husband's chin. "And hello to you to, Dame."
"Morning, beautiful," he smiled, looking at Bianca. "It would have been nice to we had guests."
"I'm sorry, but you know we didn't do much talking last night when you got in last night," Hazel smirked, prompting a disapproving look from Damon. Her face softened. "I'm sorry, babe. I should have told you, but I was just so happy to see you. I have really missed you."
"It's alright," he said, wrapping her arms around her body. His eyes drifted from his wife's face to Bianca's. "So, how are you going to get home? Do you want me to call you a cab?"
Hazel interrupted before Bianca could reply. "Don't be silly! You can drop her off, can't you?"
"I can just get a cab," Bianca insisted, placing her coat over her glittery dress. "I don't want to trouble you."
"It's no trouble," Damon said, letting go of his wife and grabbing his car keys. "Come on, let's get on our way. Then I'll come back and spend some quality time with my lovely wife."
After exchanging contact information with Hazel, Bianca hugged her goodbye and followed Damon to his expensive BMV. If it was purely something in her head, then having a crush on him was not inappropriate. It only becomes that way when one foolishly acts upon their feelings of this nature.
Her eyes looked at Damon. "It must be hard for you to juggle your job as a psychiatrist, the leader of a coven chapter and successful marriage. How do you do it?"
"I manage somehow," he laughed, concentrating on the road. His pleasant demeanour turned cold. "Hazel told me about what happened to you. I understand what happened to Austin, there are rules and if you break the rules there are consequences. However, what happened to you was inexcusable."
"I don't want to talk about it, "whispered Bianca, wanting to change the subject. The hangover had begun to kick in. "My lord, my head is killing me. I'll be going to bed as soon as I get in."
"Well, you don't have long to wait," Damon said, pulling his car outside her car. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the passenger side door, but she didn't exit the car because she felt Damon's hand grab onto hers. He pulled his hand away as he pulled as business card out of his pocket. "If you need to talk about anything, let me know. Enjoy your recovery from a bitch of a hangover."
Bianca smiled as she accepted the business card. "I will. Can you tell Hazel thanks for everything and that I would like to meet up with her soon?"
Damon agreed before he drove back home. She rolled her eyes at herself as she watched him drive away. You can't stop how you feel, it just happens. She just would give it time; she may get over it the inappropriate crush after a while. It wouldn't be that easy...it would be impossible.
Las Vegas, Nevada.
Infamous Las Vegas gangster Caleb Mercer received a devastating phone call at four thirty- six in the morning. He immediately made his way to the hospital where he was greeted by the hospital pathologist, who ushered him quickly into the room and closed the door over. It was his son lying dead on the gurney. He gazed in horror at the sight before him and vowed to destroy those had done this.
White as a sheet, he left the morgue and was greeted outside by a muscular man. His face showed distress and as he closed his eyes, drops slowly ran down his face. He had wiped them so much they were red and swollen. When he went to look around, his vision was blurry; it was difficult for him to see clearly. Internally, his blood began to boil with red hot rage.
"Spencer, I want to know who is responsible for this," he voiced, staring darkly at the muscular "When I find out I'm going to make them pay for every bruise on his body."
"Are you going to tell the boy?" Spencer asked, seeing in Caleb's blue eyes complete detestation, mixed up with some grief. Caleb shook his head. "I think you're making the right choice. We don't want anything to jeopardise Nikki's recovery, but how are we going to deal with all this with him being home?"
"That's why I think he should stay for a while with his biological Aunt and Uncle," Caleb said, making his jaw drop. "I think you and Maddie can look after him better that I can. It'll be only temporary, until I find the bastard who done that to my son."
Spencer's face was a picture. "I'm not sure if we're in the right place to raise a teenager, but we'll take him into till his eighteenth birthday. Then we will discuss things then. Does that sound like a deal?"
"Yes," Caleb frowned, feeling grief overflowing his body. He fought back some tears. "We should get your house ready for him. Bring over some of his belongs and things that will make him feel comfortable."
The short drive back to Caleb's house was silent; neither could speak, too shocked by Christopher's death. As Caleb's car pulled into the Mercer driveway, the silence was broken when both of them noticed several lights on in the seemingly empty house. Spencer, Caleb's confidant and bodyguard exited the car first, cautiously entered the house and quickly pulled a gun out of a shoulder holster. Room by room, he searched every inch of the house; coming at a stop outside his nephew's room. Placing one finger on the finger on the trigger of the gun, he kicked the door in and pointed the barrel at the gun at the figure standing in the middle of the bedroom. Henry threw his hands up.
Henry panicked. "Woah woah woah, it's only me, Spencer."
"Hey kid, did you get a haircut? I didn't' recognise you," Spencer apologised, lowering and unloading his weapon. "What are you doing here? I was supposed to have picked you up at six."
"They let me go early and Chris picked me up," Henry said, putting his hands down. "He'll be back later because we're hanging out. Do you think my Grandfather would be okay with it?"
"Sure," Caleb agreed, walking towards his grandson. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad to see you. How are you feeling?"
"I'm glad to be home," Henry replied, shrugging. "But I still feel like the world is falling in on me and there's nothing I can do about it."
"It will take some time to get back to normal," Spencer said. "Just hang in there and don't worry about it."
Caleb cleared his throat. "Look, kiddo, we need to talk to you about something. I have decided that you are going stay with your uncle Spencer and aunt Maddie for a while..."
"You're kicking me out?" shouted Henry, dumfounded by the suggestion. "You know, I thought that things would be different when I came back, but obviously I was wrong. I wish I felt like you loved me, but I guess I will never feel love from you, ever!"
"Dominic," started Caleb, shaking his head. "I do love you, but I can't give you the support you need to get you through this difficult time. Your aunt and uncle can provide the stability that I can't provide you with at this moment. This is still your home and you can come back whenever you want!"
"If you don't want me, I guess that I can't make you," Henry moped, crossing his arms. "You know, you're a failure as a parent. Why did you take me away from my real family?"
"I am your real family," snapped Caleb, knowing that he had a point. "My decision is final. Now, go and pack some of your belongings, Spencer will take you home with him tonight. You'll get the rest of your things tomorrow."
Silence filled the room. Anger radiated from Henry like a light bulb. He had the urge to punch his grandfather in the face. He resented him for taking him from his loving, supportive and stable adoptive family. The distraught expression on Paige's face is engrained at the front of his memory.
Bang! Explosions from a firearm broke up the stillness of the room. Henry swore that he hear one bullet swish past his ear. He raised his hand to his face sure he was wounded. He wasn't, but it was obvious that Spencer was because he was now lying on the floor, bleeding from wound on his shoulder. The masked gunman bounded into the room and pointed his gun at Caleb, who dropped to his knees with his hands up. He closed his eyes are prepared for death.
"You want me, leave the boy," Caleb begged, his hands shaking above his head. "Let him live, he has entire life in front of him. Don't do to him what you did to his father."
"What happened to my father?" Henry questioned, looking at the masked man, and then at his grandfather. Tears fell from Caleb's eyes as he recounted the memory of his son on the mortuary table. Henry looked at the man again. "You son of a bitch, you're going to pay for coming after my family. I swear to God."
Volcanoes pounding behind his eyes, hot rage burned in his veins, and he wanted nothing more than to destroy, tear apart, and kill the man who had murdered his father. Running towards the man, Henry knocked him to the ground, and the gun left the man's hand. He struggled against the man on the floor. Being punched in the head was loud. He hear it a loud thump, like thunder, right inside his skull, and then both of his ears were ringing. His fist collided several times with the man's face, stunning him with each blow. His hands found their way to Henry's throat that at once began to tighten. He tried to pry the man's fingers away, but he is slowly losing conscious. Lifting his head upwards, he head butted the man in the nose, feeling him loosen his grip on him. Turning his head, he saw the gun lying inches away from him, and frantically grabbed it, knowing that it may his only chance of survival. The man lunged forward as Henry pulled the trigger. Henry was shocked to core that he killed him.
"Oh my God," Henry gasped, dropping the gun. He leaned forward and turned the dead man over. "I have killed him! What am I going to do? I can't go to jail."
"You won't," promised Spencer, injured, but thankfully alive. "We'll make sure that nothing happens to you."
Henry's stomach swelled up. He tried to force himself not to think of murdering him, but that made him think of it more. He felt like he was on a roller coaster, the walls even seemed to shift up and down, and his stomach began to have an excruciating pain. He stumbled towards his bathroom and vomited violently into the toilet bowl. His insides were literally breaking away from his body.
"Hey, It was purely self defence," Caleb said, walking into the bathroom. Henry turned to look at him. "You done the right thing and saved you're family. I can't put into words how proud of you I am."
"You're proud that I'm a cold blooded killer just like my father?" Henry said, slowly standing. He closed his eyes. "Do you think it was him who killed my father?"
"I don't know, son," replied Caleb, shrugging. "But I promise you that I'm going to find out."
Terror set in when both heard Spencer's southern drawl conversing with a familiar Californian accent in the next room. Rushing into the lounge, Henry saw Chris stand over the dead body, looking down at it with alarm. Henry became worried about Chris's fate because he would report the murder.
Chris looked up at Caleb. "Please tell me that he isn't dead."
"Chris," started calmly Caleb, entering the bedroom. "What are you doing here? This is private property and you can't just waltz in here without an invitation."
"Well...Why don't you call the cops on me?" Chris taunted, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. "And while we're at it we'll deal with this small matter."
He was shoved down onto Henry's bed before he could dial 991. His cell phone was removed from his hands and threw the other side of the room by Caleb. Chris knew he would be in trouble if he didn't play his cards right. He prayed that he wouldn't have to help to cover up the murder.
"Let me go," he demanded, unable to get up from the bed. He struggled against Caleb's hands, but he was quickly overpowered. He surrendered. "Alright, I give up, but I want nothing to do with this. I promise that I'll never say a word."
"Tough," Caleb smirked, mockingly slapping Chris's cheek with his hands. "And you'd better do everything I say unless you want to be dead or an accessory to murder."
Chris knew better than to cross Caleb. He realized that his only chance of not having the same fate as the lifeless man on the floor was to obey every single demand. He knew Caleb had no qualms about killing anyone. This included him and everyone he loved. This consisted of his beloved family. The unfortunate conscience was that he could help Caleb. The minor detail that Chris was an undertaker hadn't gone unnoticed by him. He was going to use this to his full advantage.
The body was loaded into Chris's hearse, driven to twenty minutes down the highway, and when it reached its destination it was parked up and the body was quickly smuggled into the funeral parlour under the cover of darkness. Inside, the body was cleaned and groomed, and then dressed fresh clothes. It took over four hours for the body to be cremated in a furnace. The flames removed the evidence of Henry's crime, but they couldn't remove the guilt. It was killing him from the inside.
"What's the matter?" Henry enquired, looking at Chris, thinking it was a silly question, but he was going to ask it none the less. "Look, I'm sorry that you have been dragged into this, but it's not like you had a choice. I hope you understand this."
"Trust me, I know," Chris agreed, his head resting on his hands. He looked up at Henry. "Between you and you, your grandfather terrifies me. It stills ridiculous because he is in his late sixties and stands barley over five feet, but you can see pure evil in his eyes. He's not one of those little wannabe street hoodlums who rat-pack together and shoot at each other out of car windows with stolen pistols. He's a real Gucci wearing ganger who can have anyone taken out anywhere in the world just by picking up the phone. The guy I helped dispose of is a prime example."
The guilt for the murder was like heavy burden was harassing Henry's consciousness. He was ashamed and filled with regret, feeling the need to confess to Chris about the murder. Henry confessed. "It did it; it was me not my grandfather who shot him, Chris."
"You did what?" questioned Chris, laughing nervously. Then the sudden realisation of Henry's admission of guilt sunk In. "I pray to God that you're lying and that you're turning into a psychopath just like your father."
"I'm not turning into my father!" Henry shouted, bounding forward. He stopped in front of Chris, promising himself not to cry, but the death of his hero was truly devastating. "Chris, my dad is dead. Someone strangled him to death in his cell last night. Then someone bastard breaks into my home, shoots Spencer, and then points a gun at my grandfather. What am I meant to do? Let the bastard murder him? Give him the chance to kill me? I'm sorry what I done, but I'm not sorry for protecting my family. I'd do it for you."
"I'm so sorry about your father, I know you were close," Chris said, watching Henry becoming emotional. "I heard about what happened to him indirectly, if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."
"You can stop thinking of me as a monster," Henry pleaded, trying to regain composure. "I need you on my side. The last thing I want is you hating me, thinking that I'm some psycho who enjoys killing people. Don't ever bet against me."
"Okay, I will," Chris nodded, rubbing his chin. "But you're coming back to California with me. It's too dangerous for you to be living in Vegas. I promise that I and the rest of your family will protect you and you'll never have to fight for your life again. You'll never live like previous generations of your family did."
"I can't show my face to Paige, to any of them," Henry said, shaking his head. "How can I show my face to them after what I have done? They'll want nothing to do me after they find out. I can't handle that, not now."
"Fine," Chris sighed. "I mean what I say about you coming back to Cali with me. I can't have it on my conscience if I go home and something happens to you. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."
"I couldn't live with myself if something happens to my grandfather, Spencer or Maddie," Henry frowned. "I appreciate your offer, blood is thicker than water, and I must to stay here with my family. They need me."
"But we're your other family too. Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?" Chris asked, making Henry shake his head. Chris knew he had made his mind up. "Fine then, but I'm going to come by more and check on you. I need to spend some time up here anyway because of the business. If you're going to change your mind, and I hope you do, change before I leave for Cali."
"Chris, I'm not going anywhere," Henry insisted, two set hearing footsteps come from behind him. He turned around to look at Caleb and Spencer. "Hey, how's the shoulder?"
"I'll survive, Dom, "Spencer laughed, running a hand out the now bandaged wound. He eyed Chris with suspicion. "Are we interrupting anything? Topher, thanks for your assistance, but we don't need you for anything anymore. Caleb and I will take things from here. Nick, you need to come somewhere with us, your Grandfather has arranged some emergency talks with the rest of the crew."
"Wait...you want me to go to a conference?" Henry enquired, surprised by the invitation. "You have vetoed me to going to them in the past, why am I going to one now?"
"Because you're one of us now," Caleb said, stepping forward and straightening Henry's shirt collar. "You have proved that you're worthy enough to join because you risked your life for your family. Plus, you need to come with us to complete you're initiation and get your wings."
"Great, my seventeen year old cousin is becoming a gangster," Chris voiced, becoming irate. He turned him round to face him. "Dominic, please don't have to become one of them. If you do chances are you'll get shot or, arrested, or something. Do you think that dealing drugs and killing people will be fulfilling to your life? It's better to just go to college or work a normal job than risk your life in a gang. Imagine you join a gang, and then you realise you don't wanna be in it anymore. If you leave, they'll either have to jump you out or you'll get killed. I know you're a teenager, and want the girls and the money, but think about your life first. Listen to me; I can take you away from all of this."
It was a tough choice; loose his Grandfather's much wanted approval or go against his other idol and possibly loose him forever. However, he knew in his heart what his decision was.
"When we do leave?" Henry asked, looking at the disapproving expression on Chris's face. He sighed. "Chris, you said you would do anything to for me. Prove it and come with me! I really could use you there. Don't go back on that promise. You're already involved in this, so you should ready come to."
"Okay," Chris said, crossing his arms. "If you want me there I'll come with you. Is that okay with you, Cal?"
"Yes, you can," Caleb smirked, finding the prospect rather amusing. "Just don't start with your holier than thou attitude. The big dogs won't appreciate your smart mouth and you'll probably get a fat lip. Come on, let's go, they're expecting us."
The emergency conference was held in The Griffin, a local tavern located just off the Strip. Caleb ran the bar as legitimate business with another big time gangster. A long standing affiliation between Caleb's crew and the Phoenixes was seemingly strong, unbreakable, and it had been tested many times in the past. It was once believed that Henry's biological mother was a Phoenix, but this was deemed as hearsay. The only person who would know if this was true was the late Chris Mercer.
"I wonder what they're talking about," Henry said, sitting on a bar stool at the bar next to Chris. "It seems like they have been at it for hours. "
"They're probably discussing their retaliation for your father's murder," Chris commented, watching Henry become subdued. "Hey, I didn't mean to make you sad, but I really think that you don't need all of this crap. This is why I think you should come back to California with me. we'll get you through this terrible time."
"I'm staying here," Henry repeated, slamming his hand down on the bar. "There is literally nothing you can stay to change my mind, so please stop!"
The doors of The Griffin slammed open with a massive thud, causing all eyes to turn the couple making an entrance to the popular haunt. The couple we're familiar to most of the faces in the bar, but seeing the two well-known faces together made Henry choke on his drink. The woman he lost his virginity to was with his psychiatrist. Not only with, but apparently wearing his ring on her finger. Damon walked over the table where Caleb was sitting, greeted him and off of his associates, and sat down after motioning the bartender to get a drink. Meanwhile, Hazel walked towards the bar, sat down on her usual bar stool, and ordered her standard drink. She turned to face Chris and Henry because she felt their eyes fixated on her. A flicker of amusement instantly appeared on her face.
"I'm going outside to make a phone call," Henry said, seeing Hazel leave the bar to smoke. "I'll be backing soon, don't go anywhere."
"Okay, I won't," Chris said, waving him off. "I'll be here, drinking my sorrows. I hope you think long and hard about my offer."
Leaving the bar, he found Hazel smoking at an alleyway at the back of the tavern. He walked towards her with purpose, wanting to confront her about their liaison while she was still married. He would probably be in deep shit if Damon found about their encounter. She smirked as he approached her.
"Well, well, well," Hazel greeted, lifting a cigarette to her lips. She blew a puff of smoke in his face. "Hello, easy on the eyes, what's shaking?"
"Oh, nothing much," Henry replied, lifting her left hand up to inspect her ring. "Funny, you weren't wearing this the night we slept together. Imagine my surprise when you walked into my local with my shrink. Imagine his surprise if he found about over rendezvous in a local motel. He may be slightly pissed off, but I'm sure you can worm your way back into his affections somehow. "
Hazel pulled her hand away. "Please, he can't find out what happened between us. Are you seriously going to tell him and get both of us killed? I don't think us sleeping together was a mistake, but the fact I was unfaithful would destroy Damon, and he would most definitely destroy the both of us."
"Why do you cheat on him?" he asked, his tone softening. I deserve an explanation. I'm wracking my brains to figure out why someone like you isn't getting treated the way you deserve at home, which is making you go out to find try and something that'll help ease the unhappiness you feel."
"I don't love my husband, I haven't for years if I'm honest" she frowned. "He doesn't know and I have put my feelings to the back of my mind and carry on in a loveless marriage because I have to. He would probably kill me if I left him. I have already felt the full wrath of his temper before."
"Have you tried talking to him?" he asked, already guessing the answer. "I am sorry you are in such a lonely spot in your life. It sounds like you are married to a very selfish man. Will he change? I don't think so. Haze, I think you deserve better beucase you're beautiful, intelligent and wonderful. It's very sad that you have not found reciprocal love. I hope you find peace. Good luck and best wishes..."
His back collided with cold brick wall of the alleyway. He felt her lips attack his with such fury that it was overpowering. The kiss was rather unexpected, but not unwanted. He couldn't stop thinking about Hazel since that night. He prayed that they would meet up again. He gave into temptation.
"Ahem," said a voice, interrupting the kiss. Both turned around to see Chris staring at them with disbelief. "I got worried because you have been away for a long time, but I can see that you're doing just fine."
"Excuse me," Hazel blushed, brushing past Chris. She opened the tavern door. "I better go, my husband is probably wondering where I am."
"Dude, she's married?" Chris shouted, watching the doors slam shut. "Who the hell are you turning into? I barely recognise you!"
"Oh, shut up, Chris," Henry said, storming past him. "Don't like what I'm doing, don't watch, but certainly don't critique every single little thing in my life."
"Dominic," Caleb shouted, upon him entering the tavern. He smiled proudly at his grandson approached as various sets of eyes stared curiously at him. Some gasped at the resemblance between Henry and his recently deceased father. He placed as hand on Henry's shoulder. "Many of you don't know him, but this my grandson Dominic, the future of the Mercer family. Even though this is a sad day for our organisation, something good came out of it. Nick proved himself as a man and protected his family from most likely certain death. Due to this he has earned his wings."
Hugs and pats on the back were in plethora. Henry felt something he had never felt before: Pride. He had that good feeling inside himself that was a part of something that was bigger than him.
"Where do you want the wings?" enquired a tattoo artist, holding a tattoo gun in his hand. "Come sit down on this chair when you have decided. "
"On my back," Henry said, pulling his shirt off. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and opened a picture of one of his own tattoo designs. He had prepared his own design anticipating a day like this. "I want them to look something like this, covering both of my shoulder blades. Don't scrimp on the outlines and shading, I can handle it."
"Are you sure you can handle it?" It's pretty brutal for a first tattoo," asked the tattoo artist. Henry nodded his head and the artist began to draw the outline on his back with a Sharpe. When it was complete he picked up the tattoo gun. "Okay, you're pretty hardcore then? If it's too much I'll stop."
Henry tried to conceal the fact that he was a nervous wreck. Several sets of eyes where looking at him, including his grandfather, and he didn't want to lose his approval. He soon discovered that he was all worked up for no reason. The needle felt like a constant scratch along with a vibrating sensation on his skin, but it wasn't bad at all. He felt that he could sit there for hours to get it done.
From a distance, Chris was watching the initiation, but he was not feeling the same sense of pride that Caleb was. Henry was a lost cause in his eyes and any attempts to influence him hadn't worked in the slightest. All he could do was leave, praying that he wouldn't have to prepare his own cousin for his own premature funeral. He walked to his hearse, unexpectedly coming to a stop in front of it because of something sitting on top of the bonnet. He could help but smirk at the sight before him.
"I think I have seen this scene in a movie before," Chris teased, looking a Hazel sit suggestively on top of his hearse's bonnet. "I know this is Las Vegas, but things like this don't happen every day."
"I'm glad that I'm breaking up your day," Hazel smiled, leaning forward. "I'm here to ask you if you're going to blow mine and Nick's little secret. If you are, I'm going to have to kill you."
"Yes, I will, but it'll come at a price," Chris laughed, walking closer to his car. "No, I'm only joking, and I won't tell Damon about your secret shame. This more for Dominic's benefit, he is still my cousin, and I'll do everything to protect him."
"Thank you," Hazel thanked, sliding off the bonnet and stopping before Chris. She looked at him with intent as she boldly loosened his belt. "And it's a pity that I'm not going to find a way to buy your silence. We could have come to some kind of agreement that that suits us both."
"I'm sure we could," Chris said, stepping backwards as he fastened his belt. "It'd probably be amazing, but I can't do that to my cousin or you husband for that fact. I'm very flattered, but you're going to have to bat your eyelids elsewhere."
"Shame, I like batting them at you," she said, stepping forward and her hand reached to behind Chris's head and pushed it down towards hers. Their lips met in a fiery kiss. It was obvious to both of them that things weren't going to end there. Hazel broke away from his lips. "Come on; let's go before someone see's us."
"Yeah," Chris said, hastily entering his car as Hazel did. He looked at Hazel as he switched his engine on and began to drive off. "I bet this will bite me on the ass on day, but right now I couldn't care less we'll go back to my motel room, hope that's okay."
He thought screw it because Henry and Damon wouldn't find out if they were careful. Hazel was smoking hot and he'd be crazy to resist her. He wasn't the one in the relationship, so he wouldn't be doing anything wrong. Things couldn't be any more from the truth in reality. Chris would learn this in time.