55 Gone to hell

55 The war has begun
Date = 21 January
Place = San Francisco (UCSF Mission Bay Medical) (Uncle John’s house)

POV - Damion

Boring, boring, boring! Can anything be worse than going from one place of waiting for tests to the next place, waiting for more tests? At least I’m about done, just a brain scan left, but they shifted an emergency in before us.

I understand the situation, it’s just that I’m not very good at waiting and sitting motionless for long periods of time. My leg is bumping up and down impatiently; neither waiting nor patience are even in the first one hundred things I’m good at. Sitting still is a challenge for me … it’s always been. A mischievous grin creeps over my face as I recall the number of times I got in trouble at school for this exact reason.

This quarterly checkup that Mark insists on is the worst part of my job.

I take a sip from my Starbucks coffee, envying Sean sitting quietly in his chair reading a magazine. Shifting in the chair for probably the hundredth time, I give the girl at the desk a lopsided smile, her constant flirty stares towards me not going unnoticed. A year ago I would have been flattered, maybe even seduced her into a quick blowjob to pass the time, but all that’s in the past. All I can think about is Melaena and how I’ll never get enough of her. I put my hand inside my pocket, my fingers brushing over the velvet box with the ring. I hope it’s not too soon.

I shake my head thinking about how Jackson always warns us to not get hooked by a voodoo pussy, and here I am, slam-dunked by his sister’s spellbound vagina. But that’s not why I’m in love with her. It’s everything about her. All of her.

Even if I can never have sex with her again — and I might burst and blow op if that happens — but if it does, I still want to be with her forever. She’s just the cutest thing out there in the world.

The ringing of my phone gets my head out of Melaena’s womanly parts, while the busty brunette at the counter gives me the no-phones-allowed look and points to the sign that proves it. So I get up and walk outside, thankful for the distraction. Before I can even say hello my mom shouts hysterically and I almost drop the cup of coffee in my other hand.

“Damion, Luke is gone … kidnapped!” I can hear she’s terrified — crying, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Calm down Mom.” I put the Starbucks cup on the ledge — I’m currently standing in the hallway looking through a huge window, barely noticing the hustle and bustle on the other side.

“Mom, are you sure? Where?” I try to keep calm, needing her to give me as much information as she can in her state.

“Yes, I was late … just a few minutes … and he was not there. One of the kids saw him getting pushed into a white van! I went home, but he’s not here either.”

“Where’s dad?”

“He’s busy calling Luke’s friends.”

“I’ll be right there.” I hang up and instinctively call Mel — needing to hear her voice, to know that she’s safe. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. The same thing happens when I call Kiara. I yell at the brunette that we need to go and pull Sean from his chair unceremoniously. He throws the magazine onto the table and we sprint down the hall.

While I run to my truck I try Mel’s phone again. This time it is ringing and I sigh with relief, but it’s short-lived. Somebody hangs up without answering! What the fuck?

Beep, beep!

I stare at the phone in disbelief, the message ties my already knotted guts up even more.

Mel: Mayday! Mayday! Crash boom bang!

Then a photo appears of a mangled-up car — Mel’s car! Fuck! I grab the bull-bar of my truck when my knees buckle, feeling faint and my heartbeat increases as if heading for the checkered flag. Fucking asshole has her phone.

I look at the time, I’ve been in that fucking hospital for almost 4 hours, while the whole time she’s been … what? … dead, kidnapped, injured — WHAT? I look at Sean and tell him to keep on calling Kiara’s phone.

My thumb pushes the little green telephone symbol under Mel’s name — waiting with anticipated breath — hoping to hear her voice this time. But the fucking universe is against me, like usual.

“Loverboy, just the person I was looking for.”

“Who’s this? Where’s Mel?” The guy makes some clapping sounds with his tongue.

“Tsk-tsk, so many questions. Just call me Darren … or D for short. I need you to do exactly as I say.” I know that voice. Forcing myself to listen, to remember, but I just can’t place it in my screwed-up head.

I stop dead in my tracks, waiting for him to continue. I need to stay calm and collected — he’s going to try and rile me up. I take a deep breath. My hands are trembling.

Breathe, breathe, breathe! Don’t let him see my weakness, stay in control. If I lose control now, he wins the battle. Sean signals to me that Kiara is not answering her phone with a worried look in his eyes.

“Okay. Talk.” I sound a lot cockier than I feel, but he’s not going to know that. And whoever this is, the fucker is dead.

“You’ll get a message soon. Just follow the instructions.” That’s it, he hangs up, but almost immediately a message comes through, a photo of Mel, Kiara, and Luke on an old bed.

Mel: Mayday! Mayday! Three prisoners waiting!!

FUCK!

I show it to Sean and we stare into each other’s worried eyes when the phone beeps again. I’ve had it with this guy and his fucking ‘mayday’ messages.

Mel: Mayday! Mayday! The wrong twin!!

Another photo, this time of Jackson tied to a chair, his face calm, eyes blazing and I’m sure there’s the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.

Double fuck! This guy has me by the balls and he knows it. Heat rises inside me like hellfire, but it’s not just anger, there’s a fair share of raw-set panic burning with it, trying to blaze free. Gripping my hands into fists, I strike out and hit the metal dustbin next to me, sending it flying a few meters down the parking lot. Grabbing onto the bull-bar again with white knuckles, I bend forward and gag painfully, spitting out onto the ground.

Fucker! Another message appears and taking a deep breath I slowly lift the phone to stare at the little screen, scared shitless at what I might see this time.

Mel: Next instructions at 6 pm.

As soon as we sit inside my pickup I make a phone call.

“Hi, dude.” Judging by his voice tone, Ilkay is still clueless as to the current predicament.

“Ilkay, I need you to get all the boys to your uncle’s house asap! And bring all the bikes. Include your uncle and tell him to call Garcia. I’ll explain later.”

“What the fuck?” He knows it must be serious.

“Bro, just do it. And be careful what you say over the phone, we don’t know who’s listening. It’s a matter of life and death, no fooling around.”

“Fuckit. I’m on it.”

“Oh, and Ilkay, tell your uncle we’re going to need the gear and the hi-tech stuff … that spray he was talking about.”

“Got it. See you in 30.” Next, I phone my father and tell him to get to the meeting spot with my mom and Alejandro. It’s going to be all hands on deck for this one, and my brother has training that will definitely come in useful. Hitting the steering wheel as a fresh swell of rage rises in me, I swallow down my frustration and start the pickup, my mind racing at 200 miles per hour laps in my head.

Sean is dead quiet and I let him be, not in the mood to make small talk. The song on the radio seeps into my looping mind and the words hit me with so much ferocity that I have to gulp for air.

‘Get out your guns, battles begun … Are you a saint, or a sinner?
If loves a fight, then I shall die with my heart on a trigger’

Well, if it’s a war Harry wants, it’s a war he’s going to get … and this time he messed with the wrong fucking family. Together, we have enough demons to fill half of hell and then some, demons he’s personally going to meet face to face. I smile, thinking that he might just have captured the most deadly of the Blackburn brothers as his prisoner. Like I said before, Jackson is a force to be reckoned with and partly crazy. He’s not going to take being captured lightly that’s for sure. And he would not let anything happen to Luke and the girls.

‘They say before you start a war, You better know what you’re fighting for
Well baby, you are all that I adore … If love is what you need, a soldier I will be
I’m an angel with a shotgun, Fighting til’ the wars won … ‘

I know exactly what I’m fighting for — Melaena — the girl I love, the girl I would gladly stop breathing for so she can take another breath. And today I might just have to fulfill that promise, but she’s worth it. My mind drifts again … the guy’s voice … I’ve heard it before, but where?

‘Don’t you know you’re everything I have? And I, wanna live, not just survive, tonight’

If all ends well tonight, my life is going to begin, I’m going to stop surviving and start living. I’m going to ask Mel to marry me. As soon as I can.

I pull the velvet box from my pocket and throw it in the glove compartment.

I stop at the house, seeing the bikes parked out front … meaning the guys are already waiting for me inside.

My focus moves to the black SUVs pulling in, Garcia gets out covered by at least a dozen bodyguards. Then Mom and Dad arrive with Alejandro, Noah, and Jesse. My brother puts an arm around my shoulder as we walk inside. Everybody looks at me with worried, stressed eyes, nothing of the usual playful, cockiness in sight, so I fall with the truth right through the door.

“It seems Kiara, Mel, Luke, and Jackson have all been kidnapped by Harry.” All the eyes change to anger and frustration — everyone in the room has a lot to lose.

“They will send us instructions at six, so we have just a few hours to come up with a fool-prove plan.” I send my phone around so they can see the photos.

“Fucking bastards! Again Jackson in my place.” Enrique’s fist hits the wooden wall and he starts walking up and down.

“Why take Luke?” Ilkay speculates and I think he might have a point. My father was not part of any of this … so why take Luke?

Unless … he knows who his real father is … but not even Garcia knows so how can he?

“Guys, maybe I can shed some light on that. I’ve found out a few things that might be useful,” Garcia grabs all of our attention and we circle around the heavy dark-wood table.

Mom gets busy in the kitchen and starts making snacks and coffee. I know it’s her way of keeping her mind occupied.

“Harry sent me a message earlier, he wants me to do two things — I must officially appoint his son, Darren, in my place, and I must surrender myself to him.”

“So are you going to give Harry what he wants?” Enrique asks.

Garcia’s eyes flicker with something that I’m not sure I want to analyze. He has the same cold-blooded look you can sometimes find in Jackson’s eyes.

I once watched a series about serial killers, and they mentioned killer-eyes — a look a person gets after killing someone … not accidentally but with intent. They describe it as a cold, pitiless, inhuman glare that shows nothing but a brutal, apathetic, harsh, dark soul.

After each death I’ve caused, I looked in the mirror for that look.

And I’ve seen it … not yet on me — on Jackson … now Garcia … and … my brother.

“I have to pretend at least, else he’s going to kill Luke,” Garcia says quickly glancing at my father.

“I know he’s my kid, I’ve always known.” The expression on my dad’s face tells me he was somehow expecting this. The rest of the people are all rather shocked by the news.

“Luke is your son?” Logan gasps. Garcia bobs his head.

“As soon as I found out Sophia was pregnant, I let her go back to you, knowing you would look after the baby. I didn’t, and still don’t, want anybody to know that I have a son, it’s too dangerous and I want him to be a normal kid in a normal family.” There are tears in Garcia’s eyes while he looks at my dad.

My father nods at him.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Alberto says and then continues: “We should not underestimate this Harry guy … he’s got friends in very high places … and he’s anything but stupid. He’s been planning this takeover for quite a long time.”

“He took over one of the gangs in the upper north side under a false name years ago. I knew about it … but he doesn’t know I know. He always sent his second in command to the meetings.” We stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

“But, he tried to recruit the wrong gang on the South side. Their leader is …” he looks at Uncle John, “Eh … family. He informed me and we came up with a plan.” He’s got my attention. Any plan right now sounds good to me.

“Okay, so now we know why he took Luke … what about Kiara?” Logan wants to know.

“He’s blackmailing her father to kill some dude who’s in the same jail as him. I spoke to William, her dad. He’s waiting for my call … else he will handle it tomorrow. As for Jackson … well, seems they got the twins mixed up again.”

“You would swear we are identical,” Enrique snorts.

“You kinda are,” Axel rips. But we know what he means. If you know the twins like we do, you would never confuse the two, not even when they close their eyes. There are a lot of small differences between them, and I’m not talking only personality-wise.

“Can’t you think why this girl might be this angry with you?” Ilkay chokes out in shock. “It can’t be just because you ignored and teased her when she was young.”

“I racked my brain,” Enrique says sternly. “I got nothing. But since I don’t know what she looks like now … maybe I slept with her … I can’t say.”

“What’s the plan?” I ask grimly. We need to do something … I need to do something to save Mel and the others.

“Surprise,” Garcia says. I frown. That’s his plan? “There are a few things Harry does not know. Things that give us the upper hand.” Okay, it’s getting a little better. We wait in silence for him to explain.

“Firstly … I told you about the southern gang he tried to recruit … well, we let him … but he doesn’t know that their leader is spying for us.”

“Can we trust him?” Ilkay ask. We don’t know the man. Garcia stares at Uncle John who nods.

“Yes, like I said … Alex is family …” he says looking at Ilkay, “He’s your uncle and my nephew.”

“Uncle?” Logan and Ilkay stutter at the same time. It’s obvious, the brothers didn’t know about this.

“Yeah, I have a younger half-brother,” Uncle John explains, “And his mom is Garcia’s sister. It’s a long sad story … not meant for now.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ilkay moans.

“Because he’s secretly been working with Garcia and Xander for years. They could not jeopardize his cover,” Uncle John explains. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Just focus on what’s important now.” The brothers look shocked and pissed, but they nod silently, knowing what’s at stake.

“There’s also something else.”

Garcia motions to one of his guards and the man places a beautiful pink flower on the table.

“It’s a Protea,” Alejandro comments.

“Yes, it’s the sign of the —”

“Old Man.” My brother interrupts Garcia. He looks wearily surprised at Alejandro.

“Well, technically it’s the sign of the Lamorte family. But yes … it’s the Old Man,” Garcia concludes.

“Isn’t he part of The Circle?” Now my brother is getting a stern stare before he continues.

“He was. He’s retired. I’ve pulled in a favor the family owes me.”

“And you trust this dude?” I don’t want to put Mel’s safety in the hands of some grandpa my brother seems to dislike.

“Yes.” Alberto sounds pretty sure of himself. “The Lamortes are old school … they never break a promise. And like I said … they owe me big time.”

“So what’s the plan?” my father asks, looking at his watch. Time is running out.

“We know that the last thing ever registered to Harry’s name is the old ghost house at the south side of the Sea Cliff area. It’s the house where everything took place.” What kind of sick-fate type of coincidence is the universe playing here?

First my sister, now Mel and Luke … is this a joke?

“I think the hostages might be there.”

I jump up. “I’ll go take a look at the house.”

“NO!” My father blocks my way. “You’re going to stay here until Darren contacts you. Alejandro will go to the house.” I bite my teeth. I’m not happy with this. Not that I don’t trust my big brother, but I need to go get Mel.

Alejandro puts a hand on my shoulder and silently squeezes it softly. He has that dead look in his eyes. He changed his clothes — dressed in a black SWAT combat suit, complete with a bulletproof vest and all.

He takes a case that Uncle John holds out and the keys to one of the new Reaper bikes.

“Stay,” he orders little Jinx, who immediately sits down on his butt.

“What’s in the box?” Logan asks as my brother leaves.

“A sniper gun. Alejandro is one of the best snipers out there,” Uncle John answers. Fuck, I didn’t know that. Seems I need to get to know my brother a little better.

“Maybe we should get dressed as well,” Enrique says.

“Wait, there’s more … “ Uncle John pulls a little box from his pocket. “This was delivered to me just before I left. The same guy as the other night.”

“We put the dude in a cell. Some of my men are getting him to talk,” Garcia sneers.

“Eh … the note only says that it is a gift from a friend,” Uncle John hesitates. “Be warned, it’s not good.” He drops the open box on the table and it’s as if the whole house sucks in the air all around us. I move my head forward as if it’s going to change the gruesome contents, but the bloody finger still lies motionless inside the red-stained tissues.

“Who the fuck? Who’s …” Enrique starts but quickly jumps out of the way since Sean next to him folds double and almost pukes on his shoes.

“Shit dude! Look where you aim that!”

Ilkay picks up the finger and examines it slowly. “It seems to be male, middle-aged, and they used a sharp object and one quick blow.” He puts the finger back in the box.

“Male, middle-aged … at least that rules out Jackson … Luke … and the girls,” Enrique confirms and everybody sighs a breath of relief, they still have all 10 fingers for now.

Sean wipes his mouth and without looking at the finger again, he takes a few deep breaths and seems to get his color back, mumbling, “You guys sure have some sick-ass friends.”