Kindred waved his hand and the two guards left them alone. Rami had already planned his exit through the window that led down the back path. This man was a horrible person by any account, and the message sent to him by Proderick Hymn was clear.
“Now that we’re alone, Brother Rami, let us talk about your contributions to our new family,” Kindred said, coughing a bit, trying to clear his throat.
“There are no new additions to your family and none of these women shall bear your seed,” Rami told him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small bag of glitter. “Today is your day to die, courtesy of Proderick Hymn.”
“What? Hymn! How did you...that son of a bitch,” Kindred said, trying to stand, but the double-sighted dizziness made him flop to the floor.
“Yeah, sending his daughter out to be basically, well, you know, by a man who paid you, is kind of, the reason for your death. And you’re dying,” Rami said, sprinkling gold glitter on Kindred’s white robe. “Oooh, this is showing up so good on that white.”
“Hymn paid you to do this?”
“Man, I would have done this for free since you’re such a dick,” Rami said, “but you know what? Over the last week, I have gotten a certain amount of clarity on my life. Initially, I was obsessed with this vengeance thing. Now, I can make my own path, paying back assholes who wronged me on my own time. In the interim, I can make money taking out the guys who take out the guys. You know what I mean?”
Kindred’s tongue had begun to balloon in his mouth, obstructing his breathing. The blueness around his lips meant oxygen was low, and soon he’d be gone from this world. Rami would be $10,000 richer and one more step ahead of the Technicians. He planned to root them all out using their methodology, their tricks, and their techniques but leaving behind his glitter.
“All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,” he laughed, getting to his feet. He made it to the window, opening the rotted window jamb, kicking out the screen, and climbing through. He’d be halfway to the county line before the men discovered the jackleg would-be minister of lost souls was dead. “Next, I will deal with you, Hymn.”
He hummed softly as he bent, darting into the tree line and walking away slowly from the homestead that would unravel at the death of Kindred. He hoped it would be an opportunity for the simple women who followed the man to take it as a sign and leave the farm. They would all leave if they knew what was good for them.
RAPHAEL DIDN’T DOUBT if he was good for Willow or the girls, but he needed to make a call to get things clear with the guardian angel who protected them all. Raphael also needed documentation of ownership, so to speak before he transported his family across state lines, again. He placed the call to the Archangel by pressing one on the number pad.
“State your need,” the deep voice answered and spoke into the line.
“I’m not sure if they are good for me or if I’m good for them, Archangel,” Raphael said. “They’ve been through a great deal, but for the past two days, I have been on the road. Monday I was in North Carolina, and now I’m in Georgia. It may be Thursday before I’m back home. There are doubts in my mind.”
“Raphael, your name in Biblical scripture means ‘God heals’, as we all must from time to time. The woman and children need time to heal,” Archangel said, “and under your watchful care they can as well as be safe.”
“They can also be safe elsewhere, but I hear you,” he said, almost waffling on his own desire to keep them as his own. “Hey, next week, Yield and Mann are going to Concord, North Carolina to some indoor waterpark thing. I’m going to take Willow and the girls. I think I’m going to need some IDs or proof of their existence before taking them across state lines. What can you do for me?”
“When next week?”
“Tuesday, I think we’re checking in, and out on Friday,” he said, making a note to call and make reservations in the morning.
“Let me see what I can do. Dusty Rose is what, 14, and the girl Karli is 10?” Archangel asked.
“Yes, and Willow Rayne, I spell, Romeo, Alpha, Yankee, November, Echo, is the last name,” Raphael replied. “Were you able to find any records on her before she went to the commune?”
“I’m finding a few things. An especially important thing if you’re interested, but it is on a personal level,” he told Raphael, waiting for him to bite.
“How personal?”
“Not a bad personal, but it could prove helpful in your decision-making about how you’d like to proceed,” the Archangel said.
“How I want to proceed? You get them IDs and out of my house,” Raphael said, wishing for the simplicity to return to his life, but wanting to know the taste of Willow’s mouth and the feel of her legs wrapped around him. He sighed deeply. “Tell me.”
“Her birthday is Thursday,” Archangel said, “Willow Palm Rayne will celebrate her 39th birthday.”
“Thirty-nine heh?” Raphael said, rubbing his chest, which had begun to tighten.
“Yes, and Friday will make seven days she will have been in your care,” Archangel said.
“Technically, Saturday is when I picked them up, so Saturday would be seven...hey, hold on there, Bible Thumper, I see what you’re trying to do,” Raphael said, feeling anger rising in him.
“On the first day you are to take branches from luxuriant trees—from palms, willows and other leafy trees—and rejoice before the Lord your God for seven days,” Gabriel quoted Leviticus 23:40.
Raphael could hear the man chuckling in the line. He’d been set up. The Archangel knew. He knew all along. Thus far he hadn’t touched her, so at least he had that going for himself.
“I haven’t touched her, Archangel. I have not laid a hand on that woman,” Raphael said emphatically.
“Not yet, but you aren’t that good of a man, Raphael, are you? You abstain from touching her, and I shall take them from your care; however, if you can’t control your baser urges and take her to your bed, then if you lick it, it becomes yours,” Archangel said, laughing again.
“If I didn’t think I would go to Hell for putting a bullet in your ass, I would. You sneaky, conniving, Bible carrying...”
“I’ll be in touch,” Archangel said and hung up.
Chapter Twelve – Pirate
THE MOMENT HIS EYES opened, he regretted drinking the brown liquor. Twenty-two years in the Navy and he’d avoided it and now it came down to this, a throbbing headache, a rock-hard bed, and a toddler sitting on his chest. Nate Jr., was as heavy as he looked and slowly pressing the air out of his lungs. The second the bedroom door had opened he’d awakened. Out of curiosity, he lay still waiting to see what the kid would do.
“I guess you can’t be all that bad if my kid likes you,” Mann said as he tapped on the door and let himself into the room. He lifted his son from the bed and off of Exit’s chest.
“Thanks, I was wondering why I couldn’t breathe,” Exit replied. “Morning. I’ll be out of your hair soon as I shower.”
“Take your time. You want some breakfast?”