~Chapter 8
~Shadow
After that last shit show day of traveling I am not sure what happened between us, but know that when the list is fucking done my Peach will be free. I shouldn’t have been jealous or tasted my sweet Peach that day, but I couldn’t help myself after having her wrapped so tightly around me. I know that she was upset with me, she barely said two words to me the rest of the way, and didn’t even acknowledge me when I dropped her off.
Knowing that I need to talk with her, I find myself outside of Irene’s house most mornings when I am done at The Dungeon. But after three weeks, I still have yet to do more than stalk her from outside, not knowing what I could say to make my actions and words on that trip okay. Maybe when my Peach is free from the seven, it will be easier for her to see what I need and how wrong it is to take it from her.
Focusing what free time I have on doing just that, setting my Peach free from the demons of her past- the six that are left.
I make sure to talk out my plans with Blaze and Tank before I make any moves. They both agree with my thoughts and let me know if I need any of the brothers, or their specific skills that I shouldn’t hesitate to ask. Reminding me before I get too deep, that patience is needed in these types of situations to make sure that turnaround is fair play.
Once I know where they all are, I start to put plans in place. I know that taking them out is something that will take years, I set about putting them all to ground.
One by fucking one, until the seven now six is no more and my Peach is free to be mine.
I try to keep to a normal (for me) lifestyle so that nothing leads back to me, the Devil’s Iron, The Dungeon, or especially my Peach. The Devil’s have let me free from most things and I am only called in for Church and the occasional problem. I keep an eye on Peach, but since that last day, when I brought her home, I haven’t talked to her, deciding that the distance between us needs to stay until the list is no more. Other than that, The Dungeon has me working from Wednesday through Sunday nights, but as soon as that shit is over I am fucking in the wind, researching the remaining six.
It takes me almost a month to track number six, Edward Harkness down, with Tank’s help on the computer. Then another two months before I have enough information to put together a picture of what her time with him was like. I have heard bits and pieces of what all seven have done to my Peach through my constant harping of Irene and Preach. They haven’t been all that happy with my constant demands for updates, but they know what I am doing and give me some leeway.
It has been about four months since I have returned my Peach to Chicago, and decide to make a move on number six, Edward Harkness in Bentonville, Arkansas. He has proven to be a real piece of fucking shit over these months that I have been watching him. Not only does he have a thing for young girls, he likes to trade them with his friends throughout the U.S. That is how my Peach came to be with him from Kentucky, she was traded after number five had used her enough and gotten sick of her. The little that I have learned about number five boils my blood each time I think about it, but I can’t focus on that piece of shit yet. One by one, I have to make sure to do this right.
The drives to Arkansas the last four months have taken about ten hours each way and this last trip is no different. Number six works a weekend shift, getting done for the week on Monday around 10pm. When I get there Monday afternoon, I have a few hours to kill, but the energy I have stored up at the thoughts of what is about to happen leaves little else for my mind to focus on.
I wait not so patiently outside his place of work, fucking Wal-Mart, imagine that in fucking Arkansas. I have had this planned for a while now, even having loaded up on all the supplies I could possibly need, which I have already dumped by his house before coming here. I can’t wait to see his face when he gets home and sees the shit I have left out for him. The shit that he did to my Peach and the other girls he has had will seem like child’s play compared to the pain I am about to lay down.
The last few times I have come down I have run through the plan and getting to him as soon as he gets home will make it go that much smoother. Not to mention he won’t be truly missed until Friday after his shift should’ve started, 10am- thank fuck. I will have plenty of time to have my fun and get my Peach’s revenge before anyone even notices this sorry fuck is no more. Let alone I have found a perfect spot, with the help of some friends of the club down here, to put him to ground. No one will ever be the wiser or find his fucking body.
As I see him make his way to his F150 I start up my bike and follow him home. As I pull into the dark alley a few doors down, I know that no one will bat an eye at my bike parked here they haven’t on any of my other trips either. Getting off my bike, I make my way quickly to the back door, which I left open while I was here earlier. Making my way in, I have the perfect view only moments later as he enters his front door and sees the stage I have set.
The way I have left my tools out over the tarp so that there are no traces is something I perfected years ago serving overseas. The color drains from his face as he turns around trying to escape. Too bad, I rigged the door so that once he entered there would be no way for him to make a quick exit. Stepping forward outta the shadows, I take a few long strides before reaching him and the silence in the room is thick before his rambling and begging begins.
“Look, I don’t know who you are or what the fuck you think I did, but I can tell you-“
“Shut the fuck up!” is all I get out as a right hook silences him. “If I wanted to hear you say something I would have asked a question. I know all I need to know about you and the sick fucks like you. How you keep girls against their wills,” As he stands straight, another punch lands this time to his gut, folding him over in pain.
I move him quickly to the simple folding chair I have set up on the tarp, and make sure that he is secured down with the gag in place. Moving to the tools I have brought with I know I will not be able to draw this out as long as I would wish, as long as he had my Peach. But, this piece of shit has taken something from my Peach and he has earned whatever I give him.
Grabbing up a few items I look them over trying to see where my mood is, and which one of these I would like to start with. Grabbing up one of the knives, I think that for all the marks that mare her skin, he will have one. Even if he didn’t give any or all to her, he will still pay dues for all that was taken from her.
With the first slice to his skin, his muffled screams do little to appease the beast that has been let loose since the day that I met my Peach. That I saw that fucking list of hers and knew that I would not rest until each one of those names was no more. That she would not have to fear what those men did to her, or what they could do to any others.
His screams put me into a trance much as they did while I was a solider years ago. And much like my work years ago, I don’t wake until the sun is high in the sky, streaming through the blinds hours later. When I realize what time it is, I start to look at the body that is laid out before me and see the damage that I have done. I am not sure when he took his last breath, but I hope it was only a short time ago. He is now so badly cut up and bruised that not even his own mother would recognize him. Knowing that I only have a few hours until I need to move his body, I start the task of cleaning up.
In the dark, hours later, as I throw the last mound of dirt on top of his body, I feel a small weight lift. Knowing that the list is down to five. Knowing that my Peach is one step closer to the peace she deserves. Knowing that I am closer to the one thing that I want, her.
I head home with thoughts of my future running rampant.