Authors: Ashlynn Monroe
Fallen-Angels (9 page)
The sound
of a motorcycle made her go to the cell window and gaze out into the moonlit
night.
Wistfully, she thought it almost
sounded like her motorcycle.
She
pictured it rusting as the sand buried it, along with the derelict house.
She would never have the joy and freedom of
riding it again.
She grasped the window
bars and looked up into the twinkling night as a Zeppelin sailed majestically
overhead.
She wished she were a
passenger on the airship, going about a safe, average life—that she had married
Heath and talked him into going west, starting up a little farm, and staying
out of trouble.
She shook her head.
That would have been a prison of another
kind.
She had lived her life without
asking for permission, she had no real regrets.
At least she wasn’t going to die a virgin.
Steel might have betrayed her, but at least
he had given her wondrous pleasure to dream about on her last night on
Earth.
She lay down on the hard metal
bunk, closed her eyes and let herself conjure up Jeremiah’s face above her,
whispering comfort to her as she drifted asleep.
The
rattling of her cell door woke her early the next morning.
She sat up groggily and blinked.
“I thought
my execution was set for noon,” she said through her dry mouth. “This sure as hell
can’t be noon.”
“Your
sister left you the clothes she thought you’d want to be buried in.”
The jailer
set down a bundle and left.
Justice
stood up and picked up a cup of stale water.
She choked down the warm, foul liquid. At least it soothed her throat.
When she opened the bundle, she smiled.
Purity had sent her a message.
Her sister must have her share of the money,
because these were the clothes Justice had left at Jeremiah’s hide out.
He must have decided to do the right thing by
her and give Purity her money.
A sense
of peace filled her and she quickly donned her own clothes.
Days in the stifling robbery dress had made
her eager for britches and her own sleeveless corset.
Putting on her trench coat and hat, she felt
more like herself than she had in a month.
She even had her own boots to wear.
She hoped Purity would come to her, one last time, so she could thank
her.
Even after the years of strain, she
felt the closeness and love as if they were children again.
This one simple message had carried
unquantifiable amounts of love.
Everything
would be all right.
She wanted to tell
her sister that she loved her, and ask her to find her motorcycle a good loving
home.
It was worth a pretty penny, and
it was Purity’s to sell or learn to ride, whatever she wanted to do with
it.
Hours crept
by and Justice watched the crowd assemble in their Sunday best, carrying
blankets and picnic baskets.
Hanging was
good old-fashioned family entertainment.
It made her a little ill to see the children there.
She hoped that her death wouldn’t scare or
traumatize any of them.
Life was hard in
hanging was always good to break up the monotony.
Justice noticed a horseless carriage steam up
the road.
Those were scarce in
beauty.
She regretted that she would
never have the opportunity to drive one.
As it neared, she squinted at the driver and passenger.
She felt
ill.
It was Grace.
Her sister had come to see her hanged.
She couldn’t look at the scene outside any
longer.
Emotion finally had its way and
she sat down on the cot and began to cry.
She would never be a wife.
She
would never be a mother.
She would never
have her own home to tend, or a little garden to grow vegetables and flowers.
She would never have the chance to go straight
and live honestly.
Her life was over and
it would end as a public spectacle, entertaining strangers and long lost
family.
She wiped the tears from her
face with the rough blanket, provided courtesy of the good taxpayers of the
state of
As hurt and
angry as she was, she only had one last request, to kiss Jeremiah Wallace one
last passionate time.
Just before
noon, the jailer came to her cell.
He
looked a little green, she was probably the first woman he’d had a part in
hanging.
He opened the door and cuffed her
hands.
She noticed he didn’t cuff her
legs, and was grateful he had either forgotten or didn’t have the balls for
it.
She could at least walk with her
back straight and proud, unhindered by a ball and chain.
The cuffs
on her hands were loose and she noticed that she could probably slip her hands
out if she wanted to.
As tempting as an
escape attempt was, she felt it would be shameful to be brought to her
execution kicking and screaming.
Besides,
if she ran they would certainly catch her, and she would just be prolonging her
terrible end.
She held
her chin high as she walked, sorry that no one had come to say his or her
goodbyes.
Justice would die as she had
been living—alone and unconventionally.
She was finally getting her punishment from God for the only
cold-blooded murder she had ever committed, the one in the rectory, Chastity’s
vengeance.
Every other man she had
killed had been killed in self-defense.
As she
walked, she thought of her sisters, and the nuns, and Heath, and even Jeremiah.
She wished she could have thanked Heath again,
and she wondered if he would ever find out how she died and why.
For a moment, she spotted a man in the crowd
and thought it was him.
When she looked again
the phantom was gone.
Sighing, she knew
her mind was trying to bring her comfort so near the end of her life.
Her feet
felt like lead as she stumbled, shaking, up the stairs.
The noose hung, swaying in the breeze.
Soon she would be what caused it to sway.
She began to shake so hard her teeth
rattled.
The jailer put his hand on her
arm, giving her a small smile.
She saw
the pity and understanding in his eyes and it made her want to burst into
tears.
Not wanting to give the good
townspeople of
to face her eternal punishment after the Earthly one was finished.
A priest began to pray, and she wondered why
the priest hadn’t come to her cell to give her last rights, surely, the town’s
folk didn’t consider her such a demon as to begrudge her such an important
comfort.
She said her own quick prayer
and when the jailer ushered her onto the trap door she began to shake
again.
A man tried to put a bag over her
head and she pushed it away.
He tried
again and she spoke firmly.
“No, I can
handle all of this, except for that.”
He nodded
and backed away.
Another man came up
behind her and pulled the noose over her head.
She began to hyperventilate, losing her calm.
She closed her eyes and fought for her
control.
They could take her life, but
not her pride.
Her eyes
flew up at a loud commotion.
The priest
stopped praying and Justice saw him take a gun out of the Bible he was
holding.
What kind of priest used his Bible
as a gun case?
The man at
the trap-door release moved to pull it, but the priest shot him in the arm, and
he stumbled backwards and fell off the scaffolding.
The priest winked at her and dove toward her,
pulling the noose off her neck as she easily slipped her arms out of the
cuffs.
Free and uncertain, she glanced
over at her saint turned savage.
He
grabbed her arm, jumped off the scaffolding, and hit the ground on a roll.
Her body ached but at least it was still
alive to ache.
She caught
sight of a man in the crowd and felt her heart stop. Jeremiah hadn’t abandoned
her after all.
Another man rode up to
him on a horse as gunfire erupted, and to her absolute shock she saw that it
was Heath.
Heath pulled Jeremiah up and
the men raced off, drawing the gunfire away from her.
How had they met to join forces in her
rescue?
Her answer came as the horseless
carriage raced up to her.
The back door
opened and Purity pulled Justice and the priest, who clearly wasn’t a priest,
inside the cab.
Grace turned and smiled
at her, but her husband pushed her down for safety as he sped off in the
opposite direction of Heath and Jeremiah.
Justice hunched down with the others, still shaking from the shock of
her rescue and near death experience.
She had stared the reaper in the face and lived, forever changed.
Eventually,
the pursuer’s gunfire died away as the horseless carriage tirelessly out ran
them. When they were clear of danger, Ricardo spoke, “We made it boys and
girls.
Justice, meet Regan, my brother.”
“Thank you
Regan. You’re not really a priest are you?”
“Call me a
freelancer.
I borrowed these from the
town priest. He’ll wake up with one heck of a headache. And naked.”
“I’d scold
you, but right now I’m just glad as hell you did it.”
They all
laughed.
Justice noticed Purity giving
Regan a very absorbed look.
She wondered
if she’d soon be having another mobster for a brother-in-law.
Long after
dark, they pulled up to a ranch, miles from the city.
Music was playing, lights were on, and the barn
was full of people dancing.
Seeing as
she had just escaped imprisonment, it seemed a bit ballsy for Justice to attend
a square dance, but Ricardo drove around to the back of the house away from the
party.
He led them inside a cellar
where a group of men were sitting around a table playing cards, barely glancing
at her.
They all had tattoos on their
hands. They were part of The Family as well.
Justice felt instantly safe. No sheriffs here, that was certain.
A door
opened and Jeremiah and Heath stepped out.
Justice ran to them, hugging them both at once.
“How on
Earth did you two meet?”
“Your
friend Jeremiah was planning a little prison break,” Heath replied, “but when
Purity found me and told me what had happened I wanted to find the bastard
responsible for putting you in so much danger.”
Justice
noticed Jeremiah’s black eye for the first time.
“Heath’s
fist introduced us.” Jeremiah continued the story. “After a while, we decided
that killing each other wasn’t helping you any.
Grace is the one who came up with the plan.”
“After
seeing you in jail, my husband saw how much I was hurting for you.” Grace
shrugged. “We tried to bribe the judge first, but he wasn’t having it, neither
was the supervisor.
The rest of the jury
took the bribe, but unfortunately, the foreman and the judge convicted you
without the unanimous vote. We felt forced to move onto plan “B”.
Ricardo called in a couple of favors and
enlisted the help of your jailer.
He has
a terrible gambling problem, and couldn’t pass up an opportunity to pay off
some debt.
Regan detained the priest and
after that—you know the rest of the story.”
Justice
enveloped her sisters in a tight hug.
There were no words to express the magnitude of what was in her
heart.
