Savage (A Blood Feud Novel)

Chapter Five

Fraser was lying next to his wife when he received the frantic call from Grant. He shut his eyes and opened them, then repeated the process a few more times. The phone call came exceptionally late which pissed Fraser as he enjoyed his sleeps. Fraser realized something was up after listening to the voicemail.

Shelia, Fraser's wife, awoke and turned her head. She placed a hand on Fraser's left arm, "Come on babes, and get back to bed."

Fraser kissed her gently on her forehead. She smiled weakly before succumbing to her sleep. He grudgingly got up. He placed his feet down gently on the wooden floor. He gave a long yawn and stretched his neck, arms, and hands a bit.

He grabbed his gun from underneath the bed. It was an Israeli pistol he had purchased from a Mexican dealer. He didn't remember the lad's name.

Fraser went to the bathroom. After turning on the lights, he looked at his reflection. Dark spots were noticeably underneath his eyes. Fraser sighed.

He washed his face and brushed his teeth. After, he exited the bathroom after turning off the lights.

He put on a new gray short-sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans, grabbed a holster and picked up his gun and placed it gently in the holster.

Next, he took his jacket from a walk-in closet. Fraser wore it since his college years and yet, it still fit him. He was older now, in his late forties but still possessed a healthier body than the men who were half his age.

Fraser went downstairs and made himself a small pot of tea. He found some leftover grilled potatoes and haggis that Shelia made the previous night.

He delved into the leftovers and had himself three cups of tea with a pinch of sweetener. After finishing his snack, Fraser went out the side door. His car, a Mustang, was parked on the left side of the driveway.

Fraser wished he hadn't taken that phone call.

Fraser arrived at the house and parked his car at the side of the road. He slowly walked up to the front door and rang the bell. No one responded.

He checked the doorknob to see if it was unlocked. He quickly searched and found a pair of spare keys.

Fraser walked in, glanced around a bit and yelled, "Grant, are you there?"

No one responded.

Frank yelled again, "Grant, are you there?"

Again there was no response.

Fraser became suspicious. Usually, it would be a habit for Grant to come roaring down and take a swing at him. The fact that Grant wasn't responding told Fraser something was up.

Fraser began to climb the stairs. He heard muffled cries from one of the rooms upstairs. Fraser stopped. He quickly took out his pistol from his holster.

Fraser finally came through the door a minute later. He saw the severed head. Grant was sobbing endlessly.

The officer stopped crying. He glanced up and saw Fraser. Fraser could only return a look of shock at his anguished sibling.

"What...the fuck," Fraser said with his eyes raised.

He couldn't still get his eyes off the severed head. Grant was standing next to the bed, his right hand trembling. Fraser nearly puked.

"Fraser," Grant said. "Who's done this?"

Fraser wasn't sure how he'd respond to the question. He just got here, saw a severed female head and stared at a man who was hunkered down like a scared pussy. He wanted to punch the guy in the balls; this was not the time to be crying but finding out what the hell had happened.

"Grant, what the fuck am I supposed to know?" Fraser said gently.

He was beginning to feel sick of the lad and this God-damned house. Never mind that it was Jessica, his niece .and someone Fraser had secretly shagged before. The circumstances were delicate, but Fraser was a hard man, his emotions if he had any had been buried away a long time ago when he was a boy.

Grant got up. After a moment or two, he looked at Fraser. "Let me check downstairs for a moment," Fraser said.

He hastened himself out of the bedroom and went downstairs. He looked around the living room, the kitchen, and the backyard. There was no sign of the rest of Jessica's body.

Grant slowly came downstairs. He looked at Fraser who gave him a worried look. A telephone that had been set up in the kitchen rang. Fraser quickly grabbed the phone and answered the call.

"Er, boss, um, Clancy, is on his way," he said to Grant.

Grant sighed. He couldn't let his boss see this. Jessica was every much of a daughter to Chief Clancy as to Grant. Now she was gone, her head cleanly severed. There was not even any sign of her body.

Fraser went downstairs to the basement. The basement was mostly gray and empty. He carefully ducked his head into the cellar room. His eyes shot up in horror. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Grant heard the yell. He sprinted down to the basement. Fraser paced back and forth with anguish on his face. He looked like he was going to puke.

Grant's heart-rate accelerated. Something terrible had happened, and Grant didn't have to balls to ask Fraser what it was that startled him. He feared the worst every second.

He opened the door of the cellar room. He froze as soon as his eyes made the gruesome discovery. The head of his wife was hanging from what looked like a thread. Grant nearly threw up. Severed human limbs were piled up just below the dangling head. Grant tried to close his eyes, to remove himself from the ghastly scene. But it was too late.

Grant couldn't hold his pain anymore. He fell to the ground and let out a loud cry of agony.