CHAPTER 5

Ella Easton was born on October 19, 2017 on what would have been Bentley Bonnano’s 35^th birthday. The dear man known as Bent had given up his life saving Amy and Dirk almost a year earlier. The first weeks after their spiritual granddaughter was born, Brock and Destiny had been enjoying quiet lives. Nora Medora and her colleagues had apprehended the person behind the vicious attack on Amy, Destiny and Dirk. Although Brock had since kept a vigilant guard up, everything seemed to be peace and safety. But that was about to change. It all began with a rather startling surprise.

Brock had been holding baby Ella for the first time. It was quite the sight to behold. Big, strong, burly Brock holding a fragile little person while looking possibly as frightened as Destiny had ever seen him.  Brock’s light brown eyes twinkled and he smiled as he slowly became comfortable. Then Ella became very still before a little explosion came from her behind. She had pooped with such liquid force that it leaked right through her diaper. Amy took Ella from Brock and then he raced to the bathroom horrified at being smeared with baby excrement. As he cleaned up, Brock loudly joked that Dirk must have put on Ella’s diaper. When Dirk looked more sheepish than amused, Destiny surmised an element of truth in Brock’s jesting.

Shortly after Ella relieved herself on Brock, there was a knock at the door. In the chaos of baby waste, nobody even notice a vehicle pull up. The doorbell jingled seconds after a knock. Destiny answered the door and her heart leapt from her chest. It was Bentley Bonnano standing in the entryway! But that wasn’t possible! Only instead of wearing his typical greasy jeans and t shirt, Bent wore khakis and a dark blue polo shirt. Instead of shoulder length, stringy, dark hair, he had shorter and slicked straight back hair. Yet there was the same impish smile from his wide mouth as well as the same long straight nose.

But it couldn’t be sweet Bent; he was dead. Destiny didn’t believe in ghosts, but here was Bentley Bonnano standing right in front of her in the flesh! Next to him stood a man that grinned broadly with his eyes covered by sunglasses with round lenses. Thick dark brown hair was combed into a retro fifties style and a short, thick beard covered his jaw. She looked past the two men and saw an old black Cadillac hearse. Destiny gasped loudly as she dropped the glass of raspberry tea she was holding, shattering the goblet into dozens of pieces.

“Mom, what is it?” Dirk barked before he arrived at her side and took in the sight of Bentley and the sinister stranger. The bottle of water he held slipped from his fingers and thudded to the floor as his mouth dropped open in utter surprise.

“What’s going on?” Amy asked as she entered the kitchen and made her way to the door.

“Sweetie, don’t drop Ella!” Destiny cautioned as she moved toward Amy and put her hands protectively on the baby.

“Why would I…” Amy’s mouth dropped open and her pretty multicolored eyes widened. “Bentley!”

The Ghost of Bentley Bonnano and the stranger looked at each other with puzzled expressions. Then the stranger removed his sunglasses and spoke.

“Relax,” he said with a sly grin. “We come in peace, we mean you know harm.”

“Six, Tito, come in, come in,” Brock said as he walked in behind his family. He wore a huge grin as he entered the kitchen. The stranger stepped in followed by Bentley. Brock and the stranger embraced enthusiastically, then he and Bentley hugged. “Hey everybody, this is my cousin Simon Six Sallie, he goes by Six, and Benito Bonnano, Bent’s twin brother. He goes by Tito. Tito and I worked for the same agency in Miami. He’s who hooked me up with Bent when I came to Iowa.”

Brock continued to get everybody acquainted. As he finished, Amy calmly, yet menacingly handed baby Ella to Dirk.

“We didn’t know Bentley’s brother was an identical twin,” Destiny said. “How come you never told us?”

“I thought you knew,” Brock shrugged.

“Well, we didn’t,” feisty little Amy said with a scowl as her delicate fist hurled toward Brock’s stomach.

“Woof,” he moaned as he doubled over and slapped a hand hard on the counter.

“Oh no!” Amy said as a hand went to her mouth.

Amy and Brock had a little game they played with each other on occasion. Amy would get irritated with him and want to punch him in the stomach. Brock would then let her hit him. It not only never fazed him, Amy usually complained of an injured fist or wrist. Until now.

“Daddy, I’m so sorry,” Amy lamented. “It’s never hurt you before.”

“You never did it without warning before,” he groaned. “I wasn’t braced for it.”

“Oh,” Amy moaned as she bit the tip of a finger and winced. “No wonder it didn’t hurt my fist this time. Are you okay?”

“Come here,” he said pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m fine.”

Before they released each other, Brock’s fingers wiggled on Amy’s rib cage. She squealed and squirmed away from him as they both laughed.

 “You!” Amy scolded with hands on her hips. “Now I’m glad I punched you.”

“Well, this certainly is a surprise,” Brock declared as he looked back and forth between Tito and his cousin.

 “Yes it is,” Tito retorted. “I never thought I’d see the great Brock Storm doubled over by a punch from a guy, let alone a skinny gal.”

“Watch it, bub, or your next,” Amy teased as she shook her fist at Tito. The kitchen erupted with laughter.

“So how do Bent’s brother and Brock’s cousin know each other?” Destiny wanted to know.

 “Because of all the times Six came and stayed with us in Miami when Brock and I were roommates,” Tito chuckled.

 “Hey, when you live in Minnesota, Miami is a great place for a winter vacation,” Six retorted. “Especially when you can find free lodging.”

“And food,”  Brock added.

“And transportation,” Tito teased.

“And Tito’s clothes,” Brock said.

“Alright, alright,” Six said. “Quit making me out to be a mooch. Ya’ all are welcome to stay at my place anytime and for any length of time.”

“Yeah, a gothic funeral home in the frozen Twin Cities,” Tito chuckled. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

 “So to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?” Brock asked the duo. “This is a long way from Miami.”

 “A corpse,” Tito said casually. “Also, Six had a situation he wanted me to look into. I was telling him how I was out of the country on a top secret mission when my brother died and still hadn’t had a chance to pay my respects. Then low and behold, Six tells me that he needed to go close to my hometown and invited me to come along to visit my little brother’s final resting spot.”

“Little brother?” Dirk inquired. “Brock just said that you’re twins.”

 “I was born a few minutes before Bent,” Tito explained.

“What was that about a corpse?” Destiny asked.

“Well, there was a body to pick up in Waterloo,” Six said matter of fact as he ran a hand through his thick chestnut hair. “So I…”

 “You’re kidding,” Amy interrupted, wincing and crinkling her cute little nose. “You have a dead body in that creepy car?”

“Well, it is a hearse,” Dirk chuckled.

 “Well yeah, a corpse makes good company,” Six smiled. “He hasn’t interrupted Tito’s and my conversations once.”

“Seriously, you brought a dead body to our home?” Destiny asked with amused bewilderment.

 “Don’t worry,” Six assured her “I’ve ridden with countless corpses and I’ve never had one attack me yet.”

“Careful, you’re gonna ruin these two youngsters belief in zombies,” Destiny smiled as she put an arm around Amy and Dirk.

“Oh stop it, Mom,” Amy laughed.

“We just joke about zombies, we most definitely don’t believe they’re real,” Dirk added.

“Wait, something’s crawling out of the back of Six’s hearse,” Brock said earnestly as he looked out of the kitchen window.

Amy reflexively peered out the window and then slapped Brock on the upper arm and laughed, “Shut up, Daddy.”

 “Wait a minute,” Six said as he held up a hand in a stop gesture. “Why does this lovely young lady call you two mom and daddy?”

Destiny explained how they had met Amy when Nora Medora had asked she and Brock to protect her from a cult that wanted her for a human sacrifice. Then how Amy and Dirk met when he helped save her from being gang raped. Also how they both had been orphaned before they were teenagers and started calling Brock and Destiny mom and dad as sort of a joke. But when they married and baby Ella came along, it became more real than pretend.

“Hmm,” Tito nodded and grinned. “So it was just your typical love story.”

“And if your brother hadn’t given his life to save us, we wouldn’t be here,” Amy said, her big blue eye and big green eye filling with tears as she kissed her daughter. “And she wouldn’t either.”

“I know my brother would have absolutely no regrets,” Tito replied with a croak in his voice.

Amy handed baby Ella to Dirk, went to Tito and hugged him. The two cried softly as everybody else stood still and reverent as Bentley was fondly remembered. After a minute, Six, an experienced funeral director, gently broke the silence. “So, the reason we’re here.”

“You mean besides you picking up a body and Tito paying respects to his brother,” Brock said and then winked. “Surely it’s because you both missed me.”

“Right, right,” Six drawled, sounding like Matthew Mc McConaughey.  Then Six looked Brock hard in the eyes. “Seven has gotten several death threats and they seem to be more serious than just pranks. Tito checked it out and confirmed it.”

“Well, if Tito says it needs to be taken seriously, take it serious,” Brock replied. “Tito is among the best at evaluating these types of situations.”

“And you’re among the best at protecting the people plagued by violent threats,” Tito replied.

“Hold on,” Brock said, putting up his hand in a stop gesture. “For one thing I’m retired from bodyguarding, and for another, Seven and I don’t live in the same neck of the woods.”

“And for another, you and him get along about as well as an ornery cat and a vicious dog,” Six chuckled.

“Six, that isn’t gonna help sell him on helping,” Tito said with a frown.

“Oh, it’s not like he doesn’t already know,” Six explained. “Besides, Brock and Seven are kinfolk, they love each other.”

Brock stared blankly at Six.

“I said love not like, truth?”

“Truth,” Brock replied. “But I don’t know what you expect me to do. I’m not going to Seattle indefinitely.”

“Seven isn’t in Seattle anymore,” Six said. “He’s been back in the Twin cities for almost a year.”

“He has? I guess we’ve been out of touch?”

“Ya think?” Six said as he put his hands on his hips.

“Minneapolis is just a quick three hour drive from here,” Tito said. “Just come up for a day or two and help us find somebody as good as you at personal protection.”

“That’s not possible,” Dirk declared.

“Not even close,” Amy added.

“Honey, how would you feel if somebody killed Seven and you weren’t there personally looking out for him?” Destiny asked. “You need to put aside any personal differences you have with the man.”

“Six, can you help me out here?” Brock asked his cousin. “As his brother, can you tell my family why I can’t personally be Seven’s bodyguard?”

“I understand Brock’s concern,” Six nodded. “When we were young, Seven’s mouth got Brock into more skirmishes than you can shake a fist at. No pun intended. Now my dear sweet brother is sharing that obnoxious mouth with literally millions. So you do see Brock’s dilemma, don’t you?”

“Amen brother!” Brock told his cousin. “I’ll help you find a good man or men to protect Seven. But I cannot and will not personally have his back watched twenty four seven. Period!”

CHAPTER 4

It occurred to Seven Sallie that one the three men snorting something in the night club’s restroom had said his name. Then he realized that they were trying to taunt him. He heard words like loudmouth, know it all, and arrogant all mixed with profanity. He felt a sarcastic smile grow onto his face, even though his fingers trembled as he zipped up his fly. The last couple of months he had been getting recognized left and right due to the growing popularity of his podcast, ‘The Seven Sallie Showdown.’ But Seven was polarizing. It seemed he was either loved or hated. These gentlemen in the restroom appeared to be the later. So he stepped away from the urinal and walked briskly toward the door.

“My mama taught me to wash my hands after going to the bathroom,” one of them taunted. “Looks like Seven Sallie’s mom is as filthy as his mouth.”

Seven couldn’t resist. He turned and faced them. “My mom taught me not to pee on my hands.”

Two of the men laughed, but the biggest of the three scowled. Apparently he was the speaker.

“What did you say?” he asked as he took two quick steps and shoved Seven. He thumped hard into the door, and then spun and reached for the handle. The big man put a hand on Seven’s shoulder and spun him back around. He took two fists full of Seven’s black polo shirt and slammed him into the door.

“You better take that back and I mean now,” the bully said as he pressed Seven so hard against the door that he thought he might bust through it.

But Seven grinned. Not because he was a fighter nor because two martinis and three beers had given him liquid courage. His smirk was because he recalled one of the self-defense moves his cousin Brock had taught him years ago that was perfect for this situation. He quickly lifted his left arm up and over the top of the bully’s two arms. Grasping the bully’s left wrist he pivoted to his left, jerking the bully off balance and toward him as his right elbow smashed into the bully’s nose. There was a sharp crack that seemed to echo and the bully’s hands went to his face.

“My nose, my nose!” he bellowed. “You broke my nose.”

“Actually, your injured nose is your own fault,” Seven replied as he casually smoothed wrinkles from his shirt. “After all, who attacked whom?”

“Whom?” The two men with intact noses said as they looked dumbly at each other and then at their moaning friend. Seven then left post haste.

Rumors of the altercation only added to the buzz around Seven Sallie and his controversial show. At first Seven worried about an assault charge. Then he realized it would only add to his notoriety and he actually hoped for one. What he received instead was his first death threat. He assumed it was probably the guy he had an altercation with. Then he got a second and a third, all three of a different type, but with the same conclusion. Seven’s demise.

He told his manager. His manager told the cops. The cops told him they would look into it and to be careful. He told his twin brother Six.

“Call Brock,” Six suggested.

Seven winced. “I can’t call Brock.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t like me.”

“I don’t like you and I’m your brother.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Six laughed. “Come on man, I’m kidding. I like ya. Sort of.”

“Nobody likes me.”

“You like you.”

“That’s true,” Seven replied, his voice a little more optimistic.

“Listen Sev, Brock was a professional bodyguard. If anything he can probably give you some solid advice.”

“What do you mean was? I thought he is a bodyguard.”

“No man, he retired that. He lives on a hobby farm in Iowa.”

“Retired? He’s only in his mid-thirties.”

“I don’t know dude, he must have made good coin. Plus he married that former porn chick. She was kinda famous so she probably made some serious bucks as well.”

“Wait, what? He married that mean cop chick? And she got into porn?”

“Oh man, you two really don’t like each other do you? How long has it been since you talked to Brock?”

“Well, do you remember when I mouthed off to those four drunk rednecks at Grant Gordan’s  bachelor party?”

“It’s hard to keep track of everyone you’ve mouthed off to, but ya, that was a unique one. We would have got our behinds handed to us if Brock hadn’t have been there. Those were some bad boys.”

“Yeah I know,” Seven Sallie sighed. “Afterwards, Brock chewed me up one side and down the other. He even clutched my jaw so hard I thought he might break it, and he told me he was tired of bailing my mouth out of trouble. He said next time he was gonna, as you put it, let me get my behind handed to me. Well, my pride was hurt. The next couple times we were around each other I gave him the silent treatment. He gave it back. We haven’t really spoken much since.”

Six laughed. “You’re gonna honestly tell me Brock gave you the silent treatment? Part of Brock’s mystique is that he never said much.”

“I wonder if that was what made him so menacing?”

“I’m sure it added to it. What made him truly menacing was being built like an NFL linebacker by the time he was eighteen and knowing how to fight on top of it. Look, just call him. Trust me, he’d be glad to hear from ya. He’ll be glad to help. We’re not young idiots anymore. Well, you might still be an idiot though.”

“You think you’re funny.”

“So do you.”

“I know that I’m funny.”

“Sure you do. Listen, call him.”

“Six! Do you know how many times I got Brock into altercations?”

“No.”

“Exactly. It was more times than we can remember. Listen, I don’t blame him for getting fed up with me.”

“But that was a long time ago, we’ve matured.”

“Have we? Brock married a porn star, you run a gothic funeral parlor, and I shoot of my mouth for a living.”

“But…”

“Another thing,” Seven interrupted. “In the past I irritated a few people at time. Now I tick off hundreds at a time.”

“Thousands.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Maybe millions.”

“Come on, some people like me.”

“Not really.”

“I said some.”

“But most don’t.”

“Okay, for the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right. Don’t you see why Brock wouldn’t want to get involved?”

“Hey, I got an idea. When Brock lived in Miami he shared a house with this dude he worked with at that security agency. I got know him pretty well. He actually specialized in espionage type stuff rather than muscle. He lives in Chicago now and works privately. He’d be even better than Brock at identifying how serious these threats are. Trust me he’s good.”

“I believe you. As often as you went to Miami and stayed with Brock I almost thought Miami was your residence.”

“It might have become my residence if I hadn’t met Charlotte.”

“Brother, that is true love. Passing up the beaches of Miami for the blizzards of Minnesota.”

“So, do you want me to call Benito?”

“Benito?”

“Yeah, Benito Bonnano, the guy Brock used to work with.”

“I’m getting death threats and you want to help me with someone called Benito Bonnano?”

“Well, he goes by Tito.”

“Wait a minute. I know the name Bonnano. I thought it was Bentley.”

“Yeah, Bentley would be Tito’s brother. He got killed helping Brock save some chick from a satanic cult about a year ago.”

This sobered Seven and he paused for several seconds before saying, “Go ahead and call Tito.”

CHAPTER 3

               Destiny never thought that she would be more terrified than when she was almost raped with a possibility of murder a decade earlier. But when she saw a masked man slam her pregnant Amy into the wall and then come at her unborn baby with a knife, she was seized with a moment of paralyzing terror. Then the Spirit of God combined with adrenaline released her from paralysis. She catapulted up the stairs faster than she thought herself capable and attacked the attacker.

               She saw a flash of silver before she felt the heat and sting on her cheek as she smashed into him. The masked coward stabbed at her again, but she grabbed his knife wielding wrist with both of her hands. With his free arm, he smashed his fist into her nose. She heard a crack a second before she felt the pain and was blinded by a kaleidoscope of blurry. No wonder cartoons show stars over the head when a character has been conked.

               Destiny barely comprehended him trying to strike her again when he stopped and looked at Dirk charging up the stairs. The reprobate fled, but Dirk tended to his unconscious wife as well as Destiny instead of giving chase. For somebody so panicked, Dirk was amazingly smooth and calm. He checked his wife’s pulse and then looked at Destiny horrified. She knew why. She could feel blood streaming over her lips and dripping onto her chest.

               “How bad are you Dee?” Dirk asked as he whipped off his t shirt and gently put it over her knife wounded cheek.

               “I’ll survive, I think,” she moaned as she pressed part of his shirt hard into her cut and another part softer into her nose. “How’s Amy?”

               “She’s got a good pulse,” he replied with intense calm as he scooped Amy up into his arms as if she were light as a pillow. “Let’s get you two to the hospital.”

               Dirk limped as he carried his beautiful, pregnant wife down the stairs and into Bentley Bonnano’s old pickup truck. Destiny followed clutching Dirk’s t shirt to her face. The hospital was a blur. When the emergency room saw a shirtless man carrying an unconscious pregnant woman with a bloody faced woman following, they came to full attention. Brock was stunned when he saw Destiny right after she was stitched up and her nose straightened. She was numbed in more ways than one with whatever narcotics they had given her. Because of her broken nose, she had two black eyes. When she saw the stunned look on Brock’s face, combined with the drugs numbing her pain as well as her brain, she giggled. A relieved look came over his face and he kissed her.

               “Have you seen Amy?” Destiny asked after their lips separated.

               “Yeah, she has a headache, but she and the baby are fine otherwise.”

               “Thank God,” Destiny replied with a sigh, paused and then giggled.

               “Well, you seem to be doing pretty good, considering.”

               “Oh, I’m just fine,” she replied dreamily. “As long as Amy and the baby…” She trailed off as she fell asleep.

               Destiny was concerned with how agitated Brock was in the days following the attack. He was on the phone a lot and she could feel her soul mate’s tension. She knew he was trying to figure out who attacked Amy via FBI agent Nora Medora. She hoped he would leave it up to her to apprehend the culprits. However, a couple of days later when he left with a rare hostile attitude, Destiny checked where Brock thought he had a secret gun hidden.  It was gone. She began to pray in earnest.

               Brock told her everything when he returned. After he confessed how he relished being cruel but stopped himself from his desired violence, he broke down. Destiny had seen Brock weep a couple of times and knew it made him very uncomfortable. But this time, he downright sobbed as he related his temptation to not only kill again, but torture. He described the emotions he felt when he saw what happened to Amy, Dirk and herself. She felt an icy chill run up her spine when he related that Amy’s half-sister, Lexi Gomez, was possibly behind the attack.

               Thankfully Brock turned this aspect over to Nora Medora. Not only was she Brock’s former girlfriend,  but the two former lovers would have married if Nora had agreed. Lucky for Destiny, she got cold feet and left him at the altar. You might think she wouldn’t want Brock associating with his ex, but Nora was a super cop who was married to her career. She couldn’t think of anyone better suited to help them. A couple days after Brock confronted the attackers, Destiny discovered Nora on their doorstep. Although, Destiny kept jealousy at bay, dealing with Nora Medora was not a stroll through a flower garden.

               “How are ya, Dee?” Nora asked as she peeled off aviator sunglasses.

               “Hi Nora, come in,” Destiny invited. “It’s good to see you.”

               “Is it?” She asked as she stepped past her into the Storm’s home. Destiny felt herself flush. Nora’s tough, brisk manner  intimidated her. Nora looked smart in a charcoal colored business suit with a skirt that rose half a foot above her knees showing off her shapely, muscular legs. She had let her glossy black hair grow out just past her shoulders and she wore dark red lipstick. It was the most makeup Destiny had ever seen her wear. Although she was a great looking female, this look was the most feminine she had ever appeared in Destiny’s presence. She was preparing to stammer a reply to Nora when Brock came galloping down the stairs.

               “Hey, Medora,” Brock grinned.

               “Hey, Storm,” Nora smiled coyly.

               “Look at you. What’s this?” He asked as he tugged at a strand of her hair.

               “What’s what?” she replied with a frown as she swatted his hand away.

               “And this?” He said as he grasped her just above the chin and caused her lips to pucker.

               In a flash, Nora twisted Brock’s wrist in unnatural fashion. He groaned loudly and went down on one knee. “Good to see ya,” Brock said with a grimace.

               “You too,” Nora said cheerily as she released him.

               Nora and Brock had been in a relationship for approximately six years. The fact that the two were always more like buddies rather than lovers gave Destiny some comfort.

               “So, I tracked down Lexi Gomez and we had a little chat,” Nora said with hands on her hips. Destiny noticed she wore New Balance running shoes rather than heels. “She claims she had nothing to do with it. The thing is, I believe her. She claims to have cut off ties with Jezebel Black. She also gave me the name and possible location of a guy who has been in contact with Jezebel Black. It turns out this guy has an outstanding warrant for arrest. He happens to be on the F.B.I.’s most wanted list. I’m on my way to brief with a swat team. We hope to arrest this creep tonight.”

               “How can a guy on the F.B.I.’s most wanted list communicate with a woman in federal prison?” Brock asked.

               “Through the cover of other people,” Nora explained. “Including Lexi Gomez. She admitted being a pigeon for her sister and this felon in the past.”

               “Isn’t that a crime?” I asked.

               Nora shrugged. “Her information was critical. Sometimes you have to turn the other cheek with illegal activity if you want to bring justice to more serious crimes. Lexi also claims she never intended her sister Amy to be raped by those four guys a year ago. She says she just wanted them to scare her. She didn’t think the guys would actually assault her.”

               “I was there,” Brock said testily. “Trust me, they had every intention of violently assaulting Amy.”

               “I know,” Nora shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

               “You’re just saying what?” Brock barked. “That we should all give Lexi a big hug and kiss and tell her we see it was just a little prank gone awry?”

               Nora folded her arms and sighed.

               “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Brock said incredulously.

               “I thought your religion was all about love and forgiveness?” Nora asked.

               “It is, and we do,” Brock said as he frowned and folded his arms. “But that doesn’t mean we have to like, trust, or respect somebody like Lexi Gomez or Jezebel Black. So, tell me this Nora. I’ve known you to be the ultimate cynic and skeptic when it comes to humanity and religion. How come you seem to have somebody like Lexi’s back?”

               “You do know I spent more than a year undercover in Jezebel’s cult,” Nora declared sternly.

               “Yeah, of course,” Brock replied. “What’s your point?”

               “I got to know both of the twisted sisters pretty well,” Nora said sternly. “Somebody like Jezebel is pure evil. Somebody like Lexi is misguided and a lost soul. Tell me. When Jezebel attempted to murder her own sister in a human sacrifice ritual, do you recall Lexi being in attendance?”

               “Well, um, no,” Brock stammered.

               “As a matter of fact,” Nora continued. “I happen to know first hand that as soon as Jezebel and the cult began to make plans to execute Amy, Lexi stopped attending. Not only that, she went to the local authorities and told them about the plan to kidnap and kill Amy.”

               “You’re kidding!” Brock exclaimed. “Why didn’t they do anything? Bentley might still be alive!”

               “Hold on Storm,” Nora said as she closed her eyes and put her hands up in a stop gesture. “You can’t blame the local cops. A known stripper and prostitute comes marching in talking satanic cults and human sacrifice. Plus it was on record that she was suspected of setting up this same sister to be gang raped. To them she was simply a mental case.”

               Brock looked at his wife with a confused expression. “She’s right, honey,” Destiny said.

               “Look, I gotta run,” Nora said as she turned to leave and then spoke over her shoulder as she went through the door. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can how the raid goes down.”

               “Well, she can certainly give a person a lot to think about in a matter of minutes,” Brock said with a dry chuckle.

               “Yes she can,” Destiny mumbled.

Chapter 2

Brock’s hand began to shake as he kept the gun trained on the greasy punk’s forehead. The lowlife not only trembled, but he shook uncontrollably as he sat with his back against a wall in his filthy kitchen. Brock had promised God and himself that he would never kill again. He also had promised his wife, Destiny, as well as his former girlfriend and current FBI agent Nora Medora.

               But then Brock thought of his spiritual daughter Amy. She had been brought to the hospital unconscious and they anguished over whether she and the baby in her womb would survive. He saw his beautiful wife Destiny with her swollen face, broken nose, and the gash on her cheek that required twenty some stiches. His spiritual son Dirk with three broken ribs, a fractured ankle, and sprained knee. Yet Dirk heroically gave his shirt off his back to stop the bleeding from Destiny’s face. Then despite his injured leg, he carried his pregnant, unconscious wife, first to his pickup truck, and then into the hospital.

               “For when they shall say peace and safety;” Brock began to quietly say as he quoted 1 Thessalonians 5:3. “Then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape.”

               The safety on his Beretta 9mm clicked as he took it off, causing the man-boy he had it trained on to wet himself. His quivering finger tightened on the trigger as he felt himself giving in to the greatest temptation of his life. He thought the bloodlust and vengeance he once had craved was a thing of the past, replaced by the Holy Spirit. But here it was once again trying to possess him. Brock’s teeth clenched vice like, making his temples feel like they might explode from the tension. He put more pressure on the trigger.

               “But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that that day should overtake you as a thief,” he could hear his lovely wife’s sweet, melodic voice say into his mind’s ear as she quoted verse 4. It almost sounded real.

               “AAAAAAAHHHHH!” he groaned as he lowered the gun.

Three days earlier, they had been wrapping up moving Amy and her husband Dirk into their new home on a country acreage. Amy, Dirk, and Destiny had made one last trip to the downtown dingy apartment building where Amy and Dirk had been living while their new home was being built. Amy and Dirk had gone in first while Destiny gathered up cleaning supplies. When she entered the foyer, she was shocked to have Dirk and a ski masked figure tangled and rolling down the stairs at her. Then her adrenaline spiked even more as she saw six month pregnant Amy wrestling with a second hooded figure.

               Destiny leapt over the heap of Dirk and the masked creep and raced up the stairs. The attacker had slammed Amy head first into the wall and she slid unconscious to the floor. Right when the villain was about to plunge a knife into Amy’s womb, Destiny tackled him. Although she had saved Amy from being stabbed, her delicate form was no match for the evil young man.

               In the long seconds it took Dirk to get back up the stairs, Destiny had been slashed on her face and viciously punched in the nose. The knife wielding coward fled before Dirk could reach him. Thankfully, the apartment was only a mile from the hospital. Why hadn’t I gone with them? Brock had badgered himself over and over as he waited anxiously at the hospital as the three most precious people in his life were all in emergency rooms.

               To his overwhelming relief, they finally let him see Amy, the most critical of the three. She looked haggard and dazed. But ultimately, she was okay. Her unborn baby had also survived the ordeal. Amy had a concussion and they wanted to keep her for observation. Brock was overcome with emotion when he saw her sitting up in a bed.  

               “Baby,” he croaked as he dashed to her side and gently embraced her.

               “Daddy!” she cried as she hugged him back tightly.

               Brock wasn’t her actual father. Amy and her husband Dirk had both been orphaned before they were teenagers. They began calling Destiny and Brock mom and dad as a little bit of a joke. They weren’t quite old enough to realistically be their parents. But between repeatedly calling them such, and now with a baby on the way, it felt more real all of the time.

               “Are you okay, honey?” he wanted to know as he stroked her long, red-gold hair.

               “Ah huh,” she nodded and then pressed the right side of her face into his chest. Then seconds later she abruptly pushed away. “How are Dirk and Dee?”

               “They are injured, but I’m told they’re gonna be fine,” Brock reassured her.

               “Promise?”

                “I promise,” He replied before she put her head against his massive chest again. “They’ve got some cuts and bumps, but I’m pretty sure that they’ll be going home tonight after they’re patched up. You and the baby are the ones that had us the most concerned.”

               It had been eight months since a satanic cult had tried to sacrifice Amy in a perverse ritual. Brock had thought they were safe. Jezebel Black was a self-professed satanic high priestess and her closest cohorts were in prison. No one expected that a couple of rogue followers would seek vengeance. The two culprits that had managed to flee were both wearing ski masks. Brock had consulted his friend, former lover and FBI agent Nora Medora. She had been undercover in that cult for about a year. She was able to give him a name that she was ninety nine percent sure was one of the attackers. She was unclear on the second attacker. Brock had been surprised when Nora Medora gave him no warning about taking matters into his own hands. But she knew full well the police could do nothing with so little evidence. There was no way to actually prove who attacked Amy.

               “Maybe I won’t kill you,” Brock had told the quivering coward. “How about I just burn off some skin with this acetylene torch and call it good.”

               He lit a handheld torch two feet from the punk’s face. Yellow-orange flame danced and waved until he adjusted it into to a sharp blue hiss.

               “No, please!” the creep shrieked.

               “You’re gonna need to not only move out of town, but even the state,” Brock told him. “Want to know why?”

               He didn’t reply; he just whimpered. Brock whacked him on the side of the head with the torch bottle. “I said do you want to know why?”

               “Why?” he croaked as a slow trickle of blood emerged from his dirty, greasy brown hair.

               “Because if I see you again, I won’t know whether you are stalking or not. So next time I won’t be nearly as patient and friendly. Also, if you should cross paths with my daughter again, do you know what I’ll do?”

               He whimpered and sniffled, but didn’t reply. Brock raised the gun to strike him again.

               “What?” he cried.

               “I’ll take you to a nice secluded place,” Brock warned him. “Then I’ll remove all of your finger nails with pliers. Then I’ll use this torch and melt off your skin.”

               The young man looked absolutely terrified and a part of Brock actually felt sympathy. But another part of him enjoyed implementing punishment and wanted to proceed with more. Yet a still small voice told him that he had accomplished his purpose. He tried to ignore it, intending to give him a quick burn on the arm with the torch. But the still small voice wasn’t so small anymore. Vengeance is mine saith the Lord! He sighed heavily and eased away from his prey.

               “You and your buddy both better get out of town,” Brock warned with menacing patience. “But first you need to tell me who your accomplice was.”

               He balked at first, but then Brock clutched his throat and let him feel the heat from the blue-orange flame. The coward suddenly sang like a canary. Brock threatened him to not warn his pathetic partner. Then Brock fled to the old pickup truck he had parked two blocks away. His hands trembled as he worked the key into the ignition. Fortunately punk number two lived only minutes away. He was comfortably playing a video game that had him killing countless people when Brock surprised him with his presence. Brock reenacted his routine of gun and torch. The second creep complied more quickly than the first, thereby reducing Brock’s temptations.

               “Who put you up to this?” Brock asked with clenched teeth. “After meeting you two punks, you don’t seem smart enough or ambitious enough to track down my daughter on your own.”

               He just stared at Brock as he trembled and panted. Brock took the safety off the gun and pointed it at his knee cap. “Jezebel Black?” 

               The punk shook his head.

               “Who?” Brock demanded.

               “Sexy Lexi,” he mumbled.

               “Lexi Gomez?”

               “Yeah,” he replied, nodding quick and erratic, reminding Brock of a bobble head doll. “Please, dude, don’t tell her. She’s just plain crazy. She’s not right in the head.”

               “I see, and do you think that you’re right in the head?”

               “Look, dude, I thought we were just gonna put a scare into the pregnant girl. We didn’t know she was your daughter. I actually freaked when Grant knocked her out and slashed that hot blonde chick.”

               So, it was the first jerk Brock had visited that actually put the hurt on his girls. He was tempted to go back and rough him up some more. But he had accomplished his purpose. Even if they ignored his demand to leave town, he was confident that they would steer very clear of his family. Now, what to do about Lexi Gomez? She was one of Amy’s two twisted sisters. As much as Brock despised Amy’s half siblings, he wasn’t going to rough up a woman no matter how much they deserved it. He decided to call Nora Medora again and let the F.B.I. Agent decide how it should be handled. Maybe Nora would rough Lexi up.

               “I tell you what Brock,” Nora said after he called her and explained the situation to her. “I have some quick business in Des Moines the day after tomorrow. I’ll look her up and grill her on what roll she played in the attack. Is that okay?”

               “That would be great, Nora, Thank you! I owe ya.”

               “Do you?” She purred. “How about we play a round of our old game?”

               She was referring to an exercise they used to do together when we were a couple. She used to have Brock  hide out in the woods while she ran in and simulate an attack on her. She did this mainly to hone her self-defense skills. The couple also took a sadistic pleasure in the rough game.

               “I’ll have to pay up some other way,” Brock chuckled. “I’m a married man now.”

               “Oh, come on,” she drawled. “I’m not suggesting a roll in the hay afterward like we used to. Just the little game of hide and seek.”

               “Sorry, I’ll have to pass Nora.”

               “Alright, fine,” she sighed. “Look, I’ll be in touch as soon as I find something out.”

               “Thanks again.”

               As soon as Brock hung up, he wondered if he was being too hasty in turning down their little game of hide and seek. Of course, he’d have to run it by Destiny and make sure she was cool with it. Then he recalled what it was like to wrestle Nora to the ground. His hands all over her sexy bronze skin, slick with sweat. He felt something inappropriate stir and  shook it off. Nope, not happening.  Their little game was definitely going to stay a thing of the past.

CHAPTER 1

FOUR MONTHS BEFORE DELIVERANCE

Pastor Kirk Samson fell to his knees and pressed his palms tightly over his burning eyes. Was that bright light lightning? Or maybe he was having a stroke? It must be a stroke, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He felt a gentle, yet firm hand grasp his arm. Startled, he tried to yank free, but was powerless against the grip.

“Who’s there?” He asked as adrenaline coursed through his body. He blinked rapidly and then tried to open his eyes wide. He couldn’t see a thing! His body went rigid from fear. He hadn’t been this terrified since the war.

“You’ll be fine Captain Kirk,” A melodious , otherworldly voice told him. Peace mixed with excitement instantly replaced his fear and terror. He sensed that he was in the presence of a Holy being. “Come with me.”

“Who are you?” Kirk asked with anticipation. Although he did not know his companion, his companion seemed to know him. Only those close to Pastor Kirk Samson called him by his nickname Captain Kirk. The name was from having been an army chaplain, retiring with the rank of captain.

“I am Melanchthon, sent from on high to give you some marching orders if you will.”

“Yes Sir, I will,” Kirk replied with enthusiasm. A grin appearing from within his long white beard and mustache. His wispy white hair fluttered from the soft breeze.

Melanchthon laughed and it reminded Captain Kirk of a stream flowing rapidly over rocks. Not unlike Cotton Creek which snaked through a flowery meadow behind the old barn Kirk had renovated into a church. Melanchthon guided the pastor along the wooded trail he had been hiking on. He helped him sit on a fallen log. Oh yeah, he couldn’t see!

“Melanchthon?”

“Yes.”

“It seems your presence has blinded me.”

“My apologies.”

“I trust it will be…”

“Temporary, yes. After our business is through, I will walk you home. Have your wife brew you a cup of Chamomile tea and you may tell her of our visit. I know she is your best friend and confidant. Pray together earnestly about your mission. After I take you home, your sight will return within an hour. You can also cancel your eye surgery scheduled for  next week.”

“But I…”

“Your cataracts have been taken care of.”

“Oh,” Captain Kirk chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Praise God.”

“Yes, praise God, amen!”

“Now, are you ready?”

“You say jump, I ask how high.”

“I like your enthusiasm,” Melanchthon laughed. “But truth be told, by the time of the mission’s completion, your enthusiasm may wain.”

“Thank you for your honesty Sir.”

“I serve God, who cannot lie.”

“What would you have me do, Sir.”

“I appreciate your respect Kirk. But going forward, please call me Mel. It is likely that we will be meeting every now and then.”

Captain Kirk frowned. “So, will I be blinded every time you contact me?”

“Oh, no my dear friend. Once again I apologize for the sudden appearance. Next time I will take cover with flesh and blood, in the garb of humanity.”

“Alrighty then. So what would you have me to do S… Mel?”

“Do you know a man by the name of Seven Sallie?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t Mel.”

“You will. He has a podcast that centers mostly on religion, politics, celebrity, and current events. He is rapidly gaining in popularity and is becoming a celebrity himself. He is also the cousin of Brock Storm. I trust you know Mr. Storm.”

“I know Brock very well, Sir. I mean Mel.”

“Yes. Seven has been chosen to be a messenger of the last days. He has been selected to be a voice crying in the wilderness of concrete, steel, and human chaos. But there is currently a problem with him, and that’s where you come in.”

Captain Kirk waited, but Melanchthon was silent.

“What’s the problem S… Mel?”

Melanchthon sighed heavily. “He’s a reprobate.”

“Pardon me?”

“He’s a rascal, a sexual degenerate, a booze hound. He’s also stubborn, bullheaded and obnoxious.”

“I see,” Captain Kirk replied cautiously as he wondered what role he was supposed to play with such a man he didn’t even know. Then he remembered the common thread. “You say he’s Brock Storm’s cousin?”

“Yes, but the two clash. They have barely spoken to each other in more than a decade.”

“I see,” Captain Kirk replied again as he refrained from sighing.

“Take heart my dear friend,” Melanchthon reassured with delight in his voice. Captain Kirk felt his hand gently squeeze his knee. He felt energy and comfort surge through his body. He moved to cover his hand over Melanchthon’s. Instead, he felt his own kneecap, even though he still felt the loving grip of the heavenly angel. “The two cousins loved each other like brothers in the past. They just struggle to like each other. If Brock obeys the calling, his role will be as trying as yours, maybe even more so.”

“Are you going to pay a visit to Brock also?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Why?”

“Brock has too much blood on his hands. Don’t get me wrong. His repentance and walk with the Lord is genuine. I was there for the rejoicing in heaven when he finally gave his heart, mind and soul to the Lord. But obviously he still has a horrific battle with human nature and his old ways. As a matter of fact, he is about to have the toughest temptation of his life.”

“What is that, Sir?” Captain Kirk asked anxiously, due to a deep love for his friend. “I mean Melanchthon. Mel.”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“What if he fails?”

“Then the mission fails.”

“So, Seven being a great man of God depends on this, um, test that Brock will endure?”

“It will.”

“But…”

“I know, to limited understanding it doesn’t seem fair that Seven’s eternal destiny should also hinge on whether Brock is obedient or not. But life and spirituality has more of a ripple effect than people realize. You will come to know Seven’s history soon enough. He potentially has a heart of gold. But it is currently black. He has been in major rebellion. As a matter of fact, the enemy is giving him great worldly success due to his blasphemous ways. Heaven has borne long with him. His salvation is hanging by a thread and this is his last chance. But it is a big one. He will either succeed in a big way or fail in a bigger way. The reason Brock is key is because he is only one of a couple people, in a world that inhabits billions, that Seven trusts. And that trust existed long before Brock was converted.”

“I see.”

“So, are you in?”

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me Mel.”

“I appreciate that Kirk. But do you want to be a part of this mission? You are an eighty year old man and have done more than your share of living the gospel. Your eyes were fixed because of my appearance, but that in itself was a test. If you weren’t such a man of faith who has logged thousands of hours of prayer in his lifetime, my appearance, such as it was, would have given you a massive heart attack. So, once again, do you want this mission or not? Your name is written in the book of life no matter what you choose.”

Pastor Samson was tempted to ask the fate of Seven if he said no. Surely there was somebody young and faithful that could do a better job than himself. Mary Gold Weston and her husband Jake came to mind. As did Amy and Dirk Easton. There was also Brock’s wife Destiny, her Aunt Belle and Billy Bob Booker . But God and one of his powerful angel’s had visited him personally. He thought of Jesus his Savior and how he could have called thousands of angels to rescue Himself and abort the mission to save fallen humanity. But he didn’t. He sacrificed his life even if Kirk Samson were the only one to be redeemed.

“I’m more than willing Melanchthon,” Captain Kirk answered. “You say jump and I ask how high. The only question is if these old bones will cooperate.”

Melanchthon chuckled and once again it was like a rippling, soothing stream of water. “All things are possible with God. Just stay connected my friend. And yes, God could have used anyone of the people you were thinking of in your place. But God has chosen you.”

“I’m honored and privileged.”

“You will also need to be prayerful and patient. After Brock’s trial, there are still some things that need to play out in Seven’s life. It all depends on how fast the enemy prospers him. It may be weeks, or it may be months. Then Seven will have his first test on his road to redemption or perdition. That will simply be whether or not he let’s Brock take an active role in his situation. Now, I’ve told you everything I can for the time being. Are you ready?”

“You say jump, and I’ll leap as high as these old bones will allow.”

“Let’s get you home then,” Melanchthon sang. “And let the Seven Sallie mission begin.”

THE SEVEN SALLIE SHOWDOWN

PROLOUGE

               Lexi thought she had just awakened from a nightmare. But where was she? There were eight people surrounding her and holding hands. Was she dead? In a hospital? She looked at each face. There was Destiny Knight Storm and her husband Brock. A Santa Clause looking old man with a long white beard. There was her sister Amy and Amy’s husband Dirk. Lexi’s boyfriend Devin, who was also Dirk’s brother. Zella La Stella, who was the psychic she was visiting when she blacked out. And a guy who looked like he was a scrawnier, scar free version of Brock Storm. Her eyes went back to Santa Clause. She thought he might be her sister’s pastor who was known by the nickname Captain Kirk. Why was a pastor hovering over her? Last rights? Was there such a thing for someone as evil as she was? Then it hit her. These people were praying over her. Something she had been fearing lately was apparently true. Lexi was demon possessed!

               Lexi began to look at the group of people again. Their images became altered. It reminded her a little bit of when she had tripped on LSD. She gazed at her sweet little sister. Despite how rotten she had been to Amy, her eyes were filled with love and concern. So why did Lexi feel such animosity toward her? She felt the violent urge to strangle Amy, but she couldn’t move. Lexi growled, but it didn’t necessarily feel like herself. Then pink and white colors began to swirl above Amy’s head in tiny clouds. It began to make Lexi dizzy, so she closed her eyes.

               When she opened her eyes again, everyone had their own distinct colors swirling over and around their heads.  Lexi looked back to the left. Destiny’s cloudy colors were predominately silver with red. Brock’s were brown with blue. Pastor Santa was orange and blue. Dirk’s were multiple shades of blue. Devin’s colors were black at the core, but tapered into various shades of grey, getting lighter as they arose above his head. Zella had purple and the stranger who resembled Brock had a nauseating swirl of yellow, grey and red. Lexi now felt more rage than dizziness. She looked at her boyfriend and felt betrayed. He had to be the reason she was here with her sister, his brother and their holy roller friends. But why was Lexi’s psychic here? Granted, the last thing she remembered was getting a reading at her place before she woke up here. Wherever here was.

               The anger and rage exploded from her. An inhuman bellow emerged as her back arched in an abnormal angle.  After her back slammed back to the bed, all of the faces staring at Lexi became transparent. It was like looking at the negative of a photograph and it seemed to indicate what each person was thinking and feeling. Amy, Dirk, Destiny, Brock, and Pastor Santa exuded love, strength and faith. Zella was fascinated and curious, but very rattled if not downright frightened. In Devin she saw love mixed with concern and confusion, but mostly fear. The stranger’s eyes couldn’t have been wider. He was completely consumed with terror and Lexi automatically keyed on him like a mad dog sensing fear. Her eyes bore into his as her tongue protruded unnaturally far from her mouth and a demonic howl was hurled his way.

               The stranger slammed against the wall. Then he ran to the door and clawed at it in a panic. Brock went to him and the little coward wrapped his arms around him as if he were a frightened damsel in distress. Lexi watched with fascination as Brock rubbed his back and spoke into his ear as if he were soothing a child that had a bad nightmare. The broken circle seemed to give her power. Ironically it was a power that she didn’t necessarily  want or could control. A roar exploded from her mouth and her body appeared to levitate.

               “Brock, you and Seven get back to the circle,” Santa Clause commanded. “Now! Have faith in Christ! He will never leave or forsake!”

               “Yes sir.”

               “Seven, cling to Jesus,” Santa ordered the terrified man with an odd combination of compassion and anger. “There is no fear in love. Jesus is love perfected. We can’t break this circle of love. We are battling spiritual wickedness of the most intense form. Focus on Jesus and unite your weakness with his strength.”

               The name Jesus caused a painful convulsion to rip through Lexi and her back arched again.

               “Amy, dear child of God,” Santa said. “Are you ready?”

               “Yes Pastor.”

                “Destiny, are you ready to assist your spiritual daughter?” Santa asked.

               “Yes sir.”

               Spiritual daughter, Lexi wondered? Her puritanical sister had a former porn star as some type of spiritual mother. Gag!

               The evil within Lexi was urging her to react with violence. But curiosity, maybe even some regaining of control, caused her to watch the two women. Lexi’s sweet, pure sister knelt beside her and their eyes locked. Lexi’s were dark and feral. Amy’s multicolored eyes were wide and expressive. The exotic beauty of her one blue and one green pair of eyes momentarily hypnotized Lexi. She recalled being instantly fascinated by them when she had first met her half-sister several years ago.

               Destiny knelt with Amy and secured an arm around her waist. Amy put a gentle hand on Lexi’s arm. This snapped her out of her trance. A low, deep, supernatural growl emanated from Lexi’s throat. It made a Doberman or Rottweiler sound like a squeak toy. Yet the gaze from the two women’s calm faces held no fear.

               “In the name of The Lord Jesus Christ,” Amy declared. “I command the evil spirits to come out of my sister.”

                This was the first glimmer of light Lexi beheld. The first sign of hope. Yet it seemed so small compared to the evil that held her captive. Anger and hostility roiled in her brain like a venomous, writhing snake. But why? Love shown her by a sister she had betrayed. Suddenly the rage exploded from within Lexi more violent than ever.

               “BLAAAAHHHHH,” The demons bellowed as her hands gripped Amy’s delicate neck and squeezed.