Damaged Goods

Chapter 25- Last chapter and author's request

Not Edited

Author's Note- Please Read! This will be the last chapter of Damaged Goods (book1)- I've had a blast writing it, and all the support you guys have shown on my first story is incredible! I can't thank you guys enough! I originally planned on writing a sequel, but what do you all think? Would you read it? Let me know!

Thanks again to everyone who supported me and encouraged me to keep going- you're awesome!!

Carly

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Marcus had never imagined death would be so painful. He'd pictured it as euphoric, peaceful; not mind-numbing torture. Surely this was payback for all the lives he'd taken and Hell has claimed him for eternity to be a miserable pile of crap. It was dark, completely black. No matter how hard he tried to distinguish something, he came up with nothing.

Where were the horned demons, flames and other lost souls?

A kick from nowhere hit him solid in the calf with a cheerful, "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"

All Marcus could bring himself to do was groan. He was too weak for anything more than that and if this was one of those souls trying to start pestering him already he was having no part in it. No, he would just ignore everyone and be miserable like he evidently deserved.

A laugh sounded from somewhere above him when the voice called out again.

"No time to dawdle, we've got things to do. Up and at 'em!"

This time Marcus was able to pry his eyelids open to see the persistent asshole who just wouldn't leave him be. A man, roughly early thirties, stood towering over him with a crooked grin over his face. Marcus had no clue as to who the stranger was, but immediately wanted to wipe the cocky smirk off his mouth.

"Leave me alone," he rasped out through clenched teeth.

The man actually had the nerve to laugh. Not an easy chuckle, no; a full-blown belly laugh with his head tipped back and slight pudge in his mid-section shaking. If Marcus had the strength, he would've gutted the man like a fish for having the gall to laugh at him. He'd just died for fu*k's sake and he was already getting made fun of?

"No can do, kiddo. I've got direct orders from Nixon and your woman to fetch you back safe and sound," the stranger broke in. "Though by the looks of ya, you've seen better days. Nothin' a good glass of whiskey and a Band-Aid can't fix."

His woman? Aria? Why would she be in a place like this?

The man must've seen the confusion on his face, as he opened his big mouth once again. "Quit being such a pansy-ass. It ain't like you're dead!"

Now this got Marcus's attention. What was this man playing at? Not dead? He didn't have time to ask or argue as the man hoisted Marcus up by his arm and strung it over his shoulder. The pain he felt before was nothing compared to he agony he felt at being tossed around like a sack of potatoes. The sensitive skin stretched, feeling as if it were ripping right off his bones as the stranger proceeded to force him to walk.

"Names Patrick, Nixons my brother; you know, the one with that woman right now. Called and said to bring you back or I don't get that bonus I been working towards so here I am. Just doing my civil duty I guess."

As the man now named Patrick rambled on about everything under the sun, Marcus found himself wishing he were dead. Hell couldn't get much more annoying than this guy talking his ear off.

"Where are we walking?" Marcus asked interrupting him.

"Oh, yeah!" he raved on, "Got the car just up ahead here. You're gonna sit tight in there while I clean up your mess back there."

By this point Marcus was too drained to say anything, so he nodded his head once in appreciation. The man's constant jabbering was driving him crazy, but he couldn't overlook the help he provided. If it weren't for Patrick, Marcus would've laid on that porch to wither away. His prints and DNA was all over that house. Even the most incompetent officer would be able to see it was him who killed the whole house full of guys and that would put extra stress on Nate.

Nate.

He wondered how his cousin was doing in that hospital. No doubt if he were awake he'd be flirting with every woman that moved, making up for lost time. The need to see him again was almost as strong as the desire to see Aria and the baby.

"Don't mean to interrupt your little daydream there, but I'm gonna need a little help getting you into the car," Patrick said teasingly.

"Mhmm," Marcus mumbled, practically falling into the passenger seat.

Patrick closed the car door, careful not to slam a foot or hand in, causing even more damage. The poor guy was already battered and bruised more than he'd ever seen and was going to need medical attention for that gunshot wound pretty quick. To be honest, Patrick didn't even understand how the poor bloke was even still alive; he'd just made those comments earlier to motivate him.

No man likes being called a pu*sy when he's hurt and Patrick had always been one for memorable pep talks.

He strolled over towards Mason's ridiculously large estate like he owned the place and took a quick look around the inside. The damn place looked like a war zone with the remains scattered all over the place.

"Hmm, for a rich prick you think he could've at least hired a maid to clean up this mess," he criticized to no one in particular.

The whole place practically screamed 'drug money,' so it wasn't a surprise when he found stacks upon stacks of dirty cash lining the tables. As tempting as it was, he couldn't bring himself to steal the money. He wasn't that desperate and that money probably had some super-virus crawling all over it from the quality of people who have handled it.

Nope. He'd rather take his chances with super-viruses at the local strip clubs.

All of the men were long dead, no chance of getting away. The men dead outside were quickly chucked through the broken window.

"Can't have you two getting away, now can we?" he teased the cadavers as he finished throwing them inside.

Instead of stealing the money, he grabbed it by the handful and made numerous piles throughout the house, lighting them on fire as he went. By the time he had made his way back to the front door, rafters were already cracking and crumbling to the ground. In a few minutes, there wouldn't be anything left of the drug lord's house-just the way he liked it.

After taking a couple minutes to admire his handy work and pat himself on the back for using the money to burn rather than steal, he quickly made his way back to the car. Mason owned a secluded part of the community, so the chances of being spotted were slim-to-none. That didn't mean someone wouldn't eventually smell the smoke or see the black clouds billowing up into the sky so he hopped into the small sedan and took off into the night.

"You better not be fallin' asleep on me now. I know a nice lady just down the road that'll get you fixed up in no time," Patrick announced to Marcus, swatting him on the leg for good measure.

"Isn't anybody better to fix me up than Aria. I'll survive, just get me home to my nurse."

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So, what'd you think? Want the rest of the story with Colin's confrontation, new additions to the family and more drama? Let me know!

Talk to me people!!!!

Thank you for all the support in writing DG! It's been quite an experience, but I have to admit I enjoyed every minute of it!

Carly