Sorry was in a rush. This what I meant to post earlier. Thanks for pointing that out FaBerrian8789

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Moments from the moment of truth Franklin examined his reflection in the mirror. He cleaned up well he pat his chest smoothing out his shirt. While in his head he checked off details that he may have missed and still had time to correct. But nothing pertinent came to mind except the bride and he'd already sent an escort for her. He stepped out of the study underneath the stairs straightening his bowtie needlessly. Again he checked his phone for confirmation about Pamela's whereabouts. His plan was ingenious considering he thought of it within minutes of receiving Sophie Anne's confirmation that she could deliver Tara tonight. The only hiccup he need worry over was the blond that he saw Tara with whether she was her lover, friend, companion he didn't know he didn't care she was be nothing to her soon.

"How are you feeling sir," the priest asked with his hands held together in the front like he'd been in the secret service in another life.

Franklin glared at him sharply affected deeply because of the silence of his lackey. "Fine," he growled impatiently pretending to look for something around the room and only stopping his charade when he heard someone at the front door knock.

His driver sat patiently in the audience of one while another nameless vampire acquired Tara holding her arm as they stopped at the top of the stairs. Franklin forgetting the door for the moment stood spellbound admiring her as if he hadn't been the one to dress her. Tara's head fell some hair falling out of her face. He liked her hair down over her shoulders without the braids and he couldn't stand that awful ponytail he found her wearing.

Another knock at the door.

His fangs were drawn in annoyance, "answer the door."

The driver reacted speeding to the door without warning knowing Franklin didn't ask he demanded and when he spoke in a certain tone he expected results now. He flung the door open carelessly anticipating whatever threat awaited him on the other side he could handle with little to no effort. He was a young vampire still holding onto the dangerous mentality that because he's an immortal he's also invincible.

It didn't work that way.

His confidence rose because before he even answered the door he smelled with aggravated alarm the aroma of garlic and anchovies.

"Anchovie and garlic pizza for a Mr. Franklin Mott," the gray haired delivery man droned tiredly.

"We don't want any," the driver glared at the box in his hand and over his shoulder where the light of his car shined from his open door

"I came all the way out here," he made the forty minute trip in twenty for minutes, "and I've got his pizza hot and ready son now you don't have to the take the pizza, but I expect to be paid."

The driver narrowed his eyes at the old man clenching his fists. He would have preferred to rip his throat out and squeeze until deliberate splatters of blood were dotted on his forehead while the expression of disbelief is replaced by the blank face of a dead man.

"We don't want a fucking pizza old man. Do yourself a favor and leave."

This was not the night to mess with Hal Fleming. His wife had begun her nagging about wanting to go places. And they couldn't afford it on his social security check alone or on her income which forced him to get a job. The only people who were remotely hiring a man of his age around this town were fast food places. And now he was widely known around and sometimes requested because for some reason teenagers and young adults were amused by the sight of him in his lime green and black uniform. Tonight he was on the verge of quitting because his boss was an asshole who escaped puberty and took out on the rest of them, he hated short people, he amended the thought when he leaned his head back to take in the man who answered the door, and tall people were a pain too.

"I'd like to speak to Franklin Mott."

The driver considered the old man's options if Franklin did come over, but he wouldn't have to weigh them for long since he stomped to the door after being made to wait to know who was knocking at this time of night. Twisting at his waist the driver answered his bossed unasked question.

"Pizza delivery sir."

"P…pizza?" he threw the top of the box open in Hal's arms getting slapped in the face with cardboard. "Who the hell ordered this?" Franklin's mind began racing with punishments for whoever delayed his special day with this nonsense.

"Someone owe me $25.87," the voice behind the box replied.

Hal missed Franklin's glare. The vampire's eyes centered on the stains from the pizza that made a greasy Rorschach that he distracted him for a moment. Though, the moment that Pam took full advantage of when she took her shoot taking down the large driver first ending him. Because of her accelerated sight and fixed skill on sharp shooting her shot grazed the older man's ear with a bullet that ended up in Franklin's left shoulder.

She purred triumphantly she disassembled the rifle and returned it in the case she retrieved from her wrecked car she discovered sat rather pathetically in the gloom of Sophie Anne's parking garage.

"Do I get candy now?"

Pam paused long enough to look up at the child hanging over her bed to get a good look of the ghost that had made a temporary residence of her home. Pam didn't carry candy of any kind it had all been a cheap ploy to get the young child, who should have been sleeping to let her so she could get the closest view of the home without being detected.

The child watched her with skeptical eyes daring her to say no.

"Go back to bed," the blond ordered and the little boy did exactly what he was told burrowing in the sheets and only to peek when the majority of his body was covered by his top cover. But, she wasn't there anymore he sat up quickly pleased to see a crisp twenty dollar bill sitting on top of his cover. Crumbling it in his hand with his fist warm under his pillow he held it there to dream about all the things he could do with twenty dollars not yet knowing the concept of the value of money.

When Pam reached the outside of the house Hal was rooted in place while Franklin's agonizing screams filled the house with a sense of impending dread. He held his shoulder where the bullet stayed lodged within him. Glaring at the wound that wasn't healing he knew what he'd been shot by and whoever had done knew what they were doing.

"Sir," the priest came running in stopping in his tracks with his hands held at his side unconsciously making himself seem less of a threat to the unstable vampire writhing on the floor in pain.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" his fangs were drawn and foamy spit fell to the corner of his mouth as he yelled explicitly, "Tara," he cried out for her.

"Tara my love I'm dying!" he cried out swinging his bended knee.

"Invite me in," he heard a voice demand. Angling his head to get a better view of the owner he spied the blond he saw with Tara holding a gun resting leisurely beside her thigh.

The priest's mouth remained open and unsure of how to proceed. Franklin was a monster with connections and this night, he was assured, was a simply exchanging of vows became not so simple in a matter of minutes. He held his mouth swallowing the urge to vomit when he saw the remains of the driver in a disgusting heap that was mostly likely seeping into the carpet.

Pam read his indecision.

"You heard it from his own mouth, he's dying," she tried to catch his gaze hoping to glamour him, "let me in," she repeated.

"Don't you dare invite that bitch in this house!" he yelled, "get Tara ready!" he yelled seemingly forgetting that she still held a gun and the it was most likely loaded with more bullets harnessing UV light. "We're doing this now!"

Tara was escorted down the stairs with a beefy hand holding onto her.

Franklin smiled weakly despite himself and his situation, "beautiful."

Pam glared at the hideous dress and the lost look she wore when she looked over at Tara. She knew the look aware she wasn't dealing with the Tara she'd come to over such a short period of time. Tara wasn't home and whoever was wouldn't be much help to get her out of this situation. She could shoot them all if she liked, but it was too big of a risk to take with Tara in little condition to take care of herself—the woman could barely stand without help.

"Tara my love it's time," Franklin smiled reaching for her from his position on the ground.