Post by Veronica Strader on Dec 3, 2022 1:46:03 GMT -5
Temporary Strader Residence: Victoria’s Childhood Home
London, Ontario Canada
October 30th, 2022
“Are you sure you want to watch this, babe?”
Meghan Strader sits beside her recently awoken daughter, Veronica, and Tamika is on the other side. Veronica just nods, and both Tamika and Meghan hold both of her hands.
“It’s a big thing for Christian; he deserves to be in the OCW Hall of Fame. But we won’t blame you if you don’t want to watch; I’m sure Vee will be there front and centre as the Commissioner.”
“I don’t care about Vee, and I just want to see my man get what he truly deserves. He’s fought his whole life, from being a poor weak kid on the streets of Chicago to training as a luchador in Mexico. Finally, 20 years later, in OCW becoming its first-ever three-time champion, he definitely deserves this recognition.”
Her mother and aunt nod with a smile. Both lean against her, resting their heads on Veronica’s shoulder. They couldn’t be happier that Veronica was awake and on the path to recovery. The main event of Bob Grenier vs. The Big Bifford is over, and the crew is working hard to set up for the ceremony during the few-minute commercial break.
Yesterday…
Veronica lets a loud moan escape her throat as she collapses on Christian “Outcast” Cain's naked and sweaty chest. Her bare, sweaty body feels like it melts into him as Veronica kisses his lips with a heavy breath. She slides off his body, leaving a leg over his and her left hand lays atop his chest over his heart. Veronica felt his heart beating faster than usual and was the tell of how excited he was.
They lay there in silence, enjoying the moment the both of them thought they would never have again. Veronica looks up at him and smiles as her fingertips dance through his gray chest hair.
“So, Thad called you and said he would be as Massacre to induct you into the hall of fame?”
“Yeah, it wasn't the phone call I was expecting. With his hatred for you and anything related to the Strader name, I never expected him to be the one, darlin,” he said with a surprised tone.
“Well,” she says, leaning on her right hand and looking into his eyes, “he might not care about anything that isn’t about him or his family; he knows you deserve to be there. The added bonus is the public relations he will milk out of it. I believe that he genuinely believes you should be there. At the very least, he can appreciate talent.”
“It would've been nice to be able to continue into 2023, but at the end of the day, I was able to hold the title one last time and pushed Wilson to his limit.”
“After the ceremony, mom and Auntie Tee said the Strader Jet will be waiting for you, and it’ll pick me up once you are on board. I would come with you, but an incident doesn’t need to happen between me and Vee.”
“You don’t think you two will ever work it out?” his question is one that Veronica has been asking herself since Victoria returned to the world the aptly named Portal Potty. Being a prisoner inside Victoria’s psyche for two decades, Veronica never got to have her own sweet sixteen birthday, first date, prom, etcetera. Still, when she finally got out of her “prison” and met Christian, she fell hard.
They had a lot a common professionally, becoming champions close in time and setting records. Christian also understood the torment of feeling trapped. Initially, it was a pure raw physical attraction to one another. Still, it wasn’t very long before it turned to love.
“I don’t know. We spent so much time hating one another because of the Affliction, and when Vee kept you in that vicious time-loop cycle… I don’t know. I hope so. For mom’s sake, I hope.”
“I have a lot of regrets in life, darlin’. You need to work it out sooner than later,” his reply aggravated her slightly, but Veronica knew Christian was right. There was an age difference joke in there somewhere.
Outcast watched her naked body roll out of bed and walk over to a purple chair. It wasn’t a big room, but Veronica didn’t want to use Victoria’s childhood bedroom. Since the master bedroom had been converted to a fancy make-shit hospital room when Veronica was in a coma, it was perfect for Meghan as her health had deteriorated. Tamika was an overbearing mother at heart, and her big sister was her number one priority.
As Veronica slid on her purple silk robe, she felt his warm breath on her neck and laid her back against his left shoulder. Letting out a soft moan when he kissed Veronica’s neck just under her ear.
“I leave in two hours, Ronnie, and I can think of much better ways to spend our time together than talking about that Nightmare.”
“You brought her up.”
“No one’s accused me of being the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
Veronica hops up, wrapping her legs around his waist…
Halloween…
“NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Veronica falls to her knees, looking at the flatscreen hung above the fireplace where Outcast is lying in the middle of the ring, just being present his Hall of Fame bust. At the same time, a large being stands over him with the broadcast cutting out. Meghan’s hand was on her left shoulder, and Tamika’s on her right, both doing their best to squeeze reassurance into her.
In what would be a year ago, a few months from this time, healed from career-ending surgeries, Meghan approached Tamika to finance OCW. All so a mother could get close to Veronica to save her firstborn child. Through events no one understands or that can be explained without a highly open mind, Victoria and Veronica became their own people. Meghan never expected to love Veronica as she does; the same could be said for Tamika.
“Christian….”
“Come here, baby girl,” Meghan says to her distraught child, holding her tight.
“We’re here kid, whatever you need.”
Wiping her tears away with her forearm, Veronica stands up, takes a few steps forward and turns around to look at Meghan and Tamika. Veronica shakes her head. Eyes filled with tears, she responds to her mother and auntie.
“This is punishment… Christian is paying for my karma.”
“Kiddo, when your mom and I were helping OCW financially, we did our homework on the roster. We love Christian for loving you, but - -”
“- - but he’s danced with a lot of demons. The man has more enemies than even this family does, and let me tell, from your grandfather alone, it’s enough to bring anyone to their knees,” Meghan says to the distraught Veronica, but it isn’t working.
“I’ve done terrible things too, ya know? I threw Cara off the top of the OCW Arena when all she was trying to do was find her best friend and sister that I locked away in my psyche like I had been.”
“Cara is fine, Veronica. She loves you now. You did everything that was needed to be done - -”
“You don’t get it. It’s more than just Cara. It’s grandpa… I ki- - -”
“Killed him. We know.”
Veronica is floored. They knew? How? There was no evidence. No witnesses. Nothing.
“How did you know?”
Tamika looks down at the old 80s shag carpet that Victoria’s adoptive parents never updated. Looking up at her niece, she reveals a secret she had kept since the OCW roster and crew were stuck on that island.
“That would be because of me,” Tamika sheepishly responds, answering her niece. With a sigh, Auntie Teebag elaborates, “Before I made my first Craze defence against whatever his name was, something on that island took me on a… walk-about. I thought I was hallucinating, to be honest, I mean, dad had been dead a year, and he told me it was you.”
Veronica’s eyes are wide in shock. Who was she not to believe her aunt? After all, Victoria fell into something named a PORTAL POTTY, and it gave Veronica her own body. Anything was possible, the whole family had come to realize.
“And you don’t hate me?”
“Scott... he wasn’t a great person, baby. He did so many terrible things… I wouldn’t even wanna guess how people he killed as a member of the Bandidos MC or what he did to me selling Cara. We also got to know the real you when you weren’t plagued by the Rivers family affliction. Besides, he went quick, and that was better than he deserved. Really, by your hands, it was as merciful as it could’ve been.”
Veronica was floored at knowing they knew already and didn’t hate her. Although it really shouldn’t surprise her, Scott Nash Strader was a son of a bitch and a bastard that made BOB look like the Boy Scouts of America. Veronica sat back down with them in silence to be consoled by the former Cowgirls From Hell.
“I really don't deserve any of you….”
OCW Arena
Key West, Florida
November 7th, 2022
Veronica Strader stepped out of her rental car that she had just parked in the OCW Arena parking lot. She looked up at the building with a nostalgic feeling, getting goosebumps. It had been a long time since she had been here, and she couldn’t remember when the last time was. Decked out in black leather pants, black snakeskin cowgirl boots like her mother and auntie, with a purple blouse and one of Outcast’s simple well-worn black leather jackets. Her natural brunette-coloured hair has outgrown its blonde highlights and falls gently over her shoulder.
Arriving at the entrance, she pulls out the keys she never returned (making copies as well in case these get taken away from her) and turns the key. The door unlocks, and a slight grin appears on her face.
“You would think Thad or even Victoria would get these locks changed. Idiots.”
Walking inside with no resistance, Veronica walks the halls looking around, and she can’t help but be overcome with sadness that she is no longer a part of the company. This is where she took control of her destiny, where she walked the halls as the TransAtlantic Champion, tormented Dylan Thomas with cryptic letters left by the head of her security entourage, Chuck, of Good Guy Security.
Coming up on her locker room, the once broom closet of “The Mechanic” Peter Vaughn that Veronica had gotten the green light to gut and expand by a thousand square feet. Once again, her keys work, and the door opens. It’s dusty and hasn’t been used in a long time. Looking over to the left, her bar still stands, and she sees an unopened bottle of Patron Gold. Grabbing the 40oz bottle, Veronica removes the cellophane seal, and a loud pop fills her ears when the cork is pulled out.
“I will find you, Christian, and we’ll go somewhere south, away from everyone and everything. I love you, my sweet tired old soul,” she says, following it up with a shot of the tequila. Looking over to the back wall where the locker is set up and notices an old purple knapsack she used to use. Grabbing the bottle of tequila and shot glass, Veronica deposits the items in the bag and slings it over both shoulders. Taking one last look around to take in the details of the room, she walks out and locks the door.
“Alright, sister-dearest, did you take Marcus’s old office? Let’s see if she is there….”
“That’s not going to happen, Veronica.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Veronica responds with an exasperated tone. Turning around, she’s OCW Enhancement talent and the former girlfriend to Victoria Strader and Scott Nash Strader, Maxine “Mad Max” Riggs.
“Oh, no, I am very serious. You need to vacate the premises immediately.”
“Yeah? Is that so? You and what army is gonna make me do that?”
“Ma’am, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”
Veronica gives them a venomous sneer as Knux, the true head of OCW security stands behind her, so Veronica is blocked from both sides of the hallway. Shaking her head, Veronica turns around, putting her back to the locker room door so she can look side to side at both of them.
“Listen, Christian went missing in this building. The building you both are supposed to be protecting, yet a fucking legend and Hall of Fame inductee is laid out and goes missing. I didn’t get to see what happened afterwards because the broadcast cut out. I just want to find Christian. You know what’s it like when you can’t find the answers you are looking for,” Veronica replies, specifically to Maxine because of the death of her then-boyfriend, Scott Nash Strader.
“Please don’t bring up Scott to justify breaking in. Victoria has given us strict orders to remove you from the premises.”
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Miss Strader.”
“Un-fucking-real. Come on, Max! How are you even working for Victoria?”
“That’s between me and the boss. It’s time for you to leave, Veronica. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
Veronica closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Still, she opens them quickly because the image of her man lying, vulnerable, in the middle of the ring haunts her every waking moment.
“Fine, I’ll go, but you tell that General - - -”
“Commissioner.”
“Whatever, Max. You tell Victoria this isn’t over, and she will come face to face with me eventually.”
Machete Phil appears out of nowhere and uses his machete to show her which way to go. Veronica shakes her head and walks away with Phill as Knux turns to Max.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell the boss.”
“Yeah, thanks, Knux.”
Long Island, New York City, NY
November 14th, 2022
Veronica sits in her fourth-floor hotel room with a pair of high-powered binoculars, looking at an older RV. Winnebago, to be precise, painted that awful baby-shit yellow colour with the orange and brown stripes running the length of the house on wheels.
“They may not know who you are, Solomon Cain, but I certainly do. I know you have him, you sonofabitch. No one can walk this planet without leaving a trail, and I found yours.”
Veronica’s Great-Aunt Vanessa, the baby sister to Scott Nash Strader but the second oldest of the Strader kids under William and Hannah, used her PI service to do some digging into the disappearance of Outcast. Everything kept leading back to OCW talent by the name of All Consuming Fire or his government name, Solomon Cain.
“Any movement?”
Veronica looked over her right shoulder at her Great-Aunt and was amazed at how vibrant and beautiful the woman was at forty-nine. Vanessa's dirty blonde hair was wavy, and she had the green eyes of the two that run in Strader bloodline, the other being the icy blue of SNS, Meghan and John.
“No, but he definitely installed another deadbolt and what also looks like an electronic keypad on the side door. He wants absolutely no one in there.”
“The house in Cleveland is a good indication of that, Ronnie. He made sure that place was completely burned to the ground.”
“Yeah, Uncle John sent his Toledo charter of the Brothers of Mayhem to look around. Neighbours couldn’t say much about him other than he gave off a bad vibe, like a John Wayne Gacy or Albert Fish, whoever that is.”
“Fish was one of the worst, you don’t wanna know. I hate to say this to you, but if Solomon was the one to take Christian, you have to prepare yourself that he is - - -”
“- - - dead? Yeah, I’m not delusional. I’m a realist, but I needed to have a little bit of hope that he was alive. We were so close to getting away from it all and being happy. We both deserve to be happy.”
Vanessa puts her hand on her great-niece’s shoulder, squeezing it. Veronica looks at her hand before continuing her stakeout. However, can’t stop thinking how much the Strader women are alike when they are trying to comfort her and how it seems to work.
“You do deserve to be happy. I loved my big brother, he would move mountains for me, and I wish his children and their children weren’t tormented as you all are because of his choices. John wanted me to tell you to give him at least two hours notice, and he will send one of his charters to back you up or an ally to his MC. He reminds me so much of Scott, but I know he’ll be a better dad.”
“Yeah, Mackenzie is a sweet girl. Reminds me of Auntie Tee. Can I ask you something?” Veronica asks, turning to face her great-aunt, putting the binoculars down.
“You can ask me anything, darlin,” Vanessa replies in her southern drawl. Vanessa was your typical Southern-Belle heiress to William Strader’s legacy, which she took on after the murder of her big brother, Scott Nash Strader. Meghan may have been the Matriarch and has passed the torch to Tamika, but that was of their sect of the family; Vanessa is the true Queen.
“You managed Uncle Payton, Uncle Kaleb, my grandpa and his Cowboys From Hell, and the most recent was my mom and Auntie Tee with the Cowgirls From Hell. Why did you walk away from the business to start a PI firm?”
Vanessa pauses for a moment, looking to the floor, before finding a spot on the queen-size bed near the edge leaning back on the palms of her hands. She looks at her great-niece thoughtfully.
“My sweet child, this family, we were born into wrestling. My daddy, he was a tough man, born as close to poor as one could be. My granpappy was a wrestling promoter. When he died, my daddy took Statewide in Texas, allowing him to venture into other industries through his advertisers, eventually starting Strader Incorporated, which Meeka runs. Although that came dangerously close to slipping into the hands of my daddy’s bastard’s spawn, Kristopholis, thanks to your sister, Victoria. To answer your question though, I was never going to step into that ring as a competitor. I accomplished a few dozen championships among my brothers and nieces, and I wanted to do something the family hadn't dipped their proverbial toes into.”
“And that was PI work?”
Vanessa chuckles, giving Veronica a sincere smile that feels as powerful as the Strader Sneer she had used for years in the ring promoting the tag teams.
“It’s different and surprisingly rewarding. I am able to help my great-niece, which reminds me, don’t let me forget to give your mom a firm talking to about making me feel old giving me great-nieces.”
“I certainly will,” Veronica says, turning back towards the window, binoculars back up to her eyes.
"I need to call mom, I'll be back shortly."
“Ok. Tell Gran I said hi."
Vanessa nods and smiles, leaving Veronica to continue the watch.
I’m gonna get you, Solomon… and bring Christian home.”
Rumble in The Bronx
Bronx, NYC, NY
November 27th, 2020
Veronica looked toward the brigade of RVs being used as locker rooms for all the talent this evening for the OCW Pay-Per-View. Looking at her phone, Veronica saw a text message from “Dad” with Matthew Knox’s face in the contact picture. She doesn’t call him dad to his face, but it would appear that one of the seventy-two Knox spawns has started to come around about that situation.
Text from “Dad”
Hey Kid, RV#2 is mine. See you soon.
Clearing the message, Veronica heads to his RV and can’t help but be impressed at what her sister, OCWs Commissioner Victoria Strader, has accomplished since being named the new boss. Veronica had been a prisoner inside Victoria’s psyche for twenty years and knew how much she and Cara loved to watch the PWA (the good one, not the abomination out today). One of their favourite events was The Rumble in The Bronx. The OCW Faithful were loud and enjoying the bloodfest, that is OCW Tag Team Championship match which was keeping security busy which was a good thing. Arriving at the RV, she knocked the “shave and a haircut, two bits” knock before opening the door and walking up inside. Matthew Knox was getting into his ring gear, knowing his time was coming up.
“Hey, old man.”
“Veronica! Glad you made it, kid.”
“Appreciate the invite. Not so sure how your other kid is gonna take it, ya know,” she says, giving her dad a hug, which catches him off guard, but he squeezes back, thankful that she has come around.
“She’ll get over it,” his reply coming off a tad nonchalant as they break the embrace, but that was Matthew Knox. “Your mom was telling me you have been on the search for someone? Travelling around the continental United States.”
“Yeah, someone kidnapped my boyfriend, and I have figured out who it is, so I have been following him,” she says casually in her reply. She sits across from Knox on the couches set up on both sides of the Recreational Vehicle, and she sighs.
“All alone?”
Veronica’s glasz-coloured eyes, like his, look up at him with slight annoyance.
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”
“That isn’t how I meant it, and you know that. I’m just saying, while I could take Outcast, I have to wonder and be concerned over you chasing someone who could take him down and keep him hidden.”
“Well, don’t be. Besides, Great-Aunt Vanessa Strader has been helping me track the bastard.”
Knox leans back and lights up a cigarette, stretching out his arms along the back of the couch, leaving the cigarette dangling in the corner of his mouth.
“Who has him?”
“All Consuming Fire, but he’s dropped that moniker and going by his real name… Solomon Cain,” her answer is filled with distaste, and Knox can hear the pain in one of his many children’s voices. He leans forward, putting a hand on Veronica’s denim-clad knee.
“What can I do, kid?” he genuinely asks. Veronica just shakes her head.
“Nothing. I got it. I just need to talk to Victoria and see if she had anything to do with it.”
“I know you and Vee aren’t in the best place right now but do you think she would do that?”
“Yeah, I do think so. Vee kept him in a loop in that stupid Portal Potty for months, keeping him from me… and for what? Some misguided sense of revenge? I didn’t ask for her to sacrifice herself for me, and if it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t have been able to come back. So yeah, excuse me if I seem out of line, but I absolutely do believe she would do anything to hurt me.”
Knox takes a drag, leaning back, slightly shaking his head.
“Look, kid, I’m not going to pretend to understand that portal shit - - -”
“- - - you and everyone else, especially Auntie Tee.”
“But I do know it gave me two daughters out of one, and I don’t believe Vee has anything to do with this. When she took over running the show in OCW, something changed. Not completely her old self, but better than she was.”
“Look, I think it’s great that you are doing everything you can to be a dad to all of us, but I need to look Vee in the eye and ask. It’s the only way I can be sure.”
Knox sighs and butts his cigarette out after one final drag before getting up and sitting beside his kid.
“Well, if ya need me, kid, you got my number.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it… dad.”
He wasn’t one to show emotions but more the type to throw a sarcastic comment out there and deflect but hearing the one kid who had the hardest time calling him dad, it touched The Raven, nevermore.
I-95 South Connecticut Rest Area
Connecticut, USA
December 2nd, 2022
Veronica Strader exits off the southbound Interstate into the “Welcome to Connecticut” service area. Parking her black 1984 Dodge D-100 Slant-6 by bringing the stick shift out of gear and pushing down on the parking brake, she idles for a few moments. Observing the RV she and her Great-Aunt had seen belonging to Solomon Cain, she pulls out her cell phone.
“Siri, call Uncle John….”
“Hey Ronnie, did you find him?”
“It’s the RV. It’s parked at the Connecticut welcome centre; how far are you behind me?”
“We are twenty minutes behind, like Aunt Vanessa suggested. He’s going to think you are alone, but we are close. Just wait a bit before you approach it. I’ve had charters in Ohio and NY following him, and he’s a walking fuckin’ nightmare.”
“I’ll be careful, Uncz.”
Veronica turns off the truck, slipping it into first gear, which anyone should do after applying the parking brake and turning off the standard vehicle. Veronica reaches over to the glovebox and pulls out a silver-plated 357 magnum revolver. Popping the cylinder open, she spins it to ensure all the chambers are filled. With a flick of her wrist, the cylinder locks in place, and she slides it in her leather jacket's inside pocket.
“Don’t worry baby, Ronnie’s coming for you.”
Looking side to side, Veronica sneaks slowly towards the large vehicle, thanking whoever was above that it hadn’t snowed, or at least not much. She stands on the tip of her toes, looking in the side window at the front of the cab. She can’t see much, and Solomon has placed a window cover in front of the windshield that people use to protect the interior from UV damage; however, in Solomon’s case, it was to hide the contents there within.
“Doesn’t look like anyone is home….”
Veronica grabs the door handle, and it opens; it isn’t locked, which surprises her.
“Why wouldn’t he lock this up?”
The wave of a tremendously awful stench hits Veronica in the face with the same kind of force as a clown getting pied at the circus. She holds back the vomit sitting in her throat. Veronica lifts the purple scarf she has on, pulling it up over her nose before stepping up inside the RV. Looking around, she is disgusted at the mess in the unit. She sees the back door to the rear, and it’s closed.
“What a mess. The smell… it’s like death. What do you have back there?”
Grabbing the door handle, she tries to open it, but unlike the door to get inside the RV, this one is locked.
“So the bedroom door is locked, but the one outside isn’t? Make’s a lot of sense.”
Unfortunately for Veronica, it would make sense soon. She slams her right shoulder into the one, two, and three times and it swings up, causing Veronica to stumble forward onto the bed beside a corpse. The corpse belonging to….
“C… Christian?! No… no, it can’t be….”
Tears stream down her face as she slowly, almost instinctively, reaches out to touch Christian’s face, but she can’t as her hand snaps back to cover her mouth. Veronica stands up and turns around to run out of the RV, but she runs smack dab into the chest of Solomon Cain.
“Ah, found my friend, I see.”
“You bastard! You did this! You killed him!”
Holding Veronica by her shoulders, the massive man leans forward, speaking directly into her ear.
“It was the least he deserved. He was a piece of shit, Veronica. It was only a matter of time before he hurt you like everyone else around him.”
“FUCK YOU, Solomon!”
Letting go, he rears back and backhands her with such force that it sends her backwards against the edge of the bed. He stalks her inside the small area, looking down at her.
“You are wrong, he loved me, and I loved him! AND YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!”
“You dumb twat. He didn’t love anyone. But I can tell you one thing, he’s a great fucking listener these days! Hahaha!”
Cain’s laughter enrages Veronica, and she spears him, sending the two of them back into the main area of the RV. The fusion of Cowgirl and Raven is fuelling her adrenaline, and the smile on Cain’s face enrages her further. She goes to slam her elbow on the bridge of his nose, but his arm thrusts up, grabbing her by the throat and starting to squeeze, cutting off her windpipe. He stands up, never loosening his grip as she flails both of her arms on his forearm, trying to get him to drop her.
“It’s so sweet, heh… now I’ll have the lovebirds to talk too.”
The Rumbles of Harley Davidson motorcycles fill the air, and Veronica sneers at Solomon.
“I might’ve been dumb enough to come inside alone, but I am not that fucking stupid!”
Veronica kicks the big man in the groin, and he drops her from the pain. She goes to run out the door but is pulled back as his hand grabs a handful of her hair. Using his massive forearm, he holds her by the throat as he walks, holding her like a hostage with five men standing beside their motorcycles, headlights pointing at the RV. John Nash Strader stands at the front, pointing a sawed-off shotgun at Solomon Cain, but his eyes are on his niece. John can feel the weight of the situation on his shoulders and can hear his big sister’s voice begging him to save her. Meghan would be here if she wasn’t sick, and it was only getting worse, so John knew he had to fix this.
“Hey big man, how about you put my niece down, yeah? No reason to get all… homicidal, right?”
“This little twat really shouldn’t be poking around the big bad wolf’s place. I think getting homicidal is the best way to go!”
“Well, ya see, big man, she’s a Strader like me, and when someone hurts the people we care about… we tend to say fuck the rules and do what we gotta do. So think about that for a second.”
“Oh, I have.”
He squeezes harder, and Veronica gasps. She starts digging her nails into his forearm. John points the sawed-off over to the side, away from Veronica and….
BAMMMM!!!!
THUDDD!!!!
Veronica rolls away, pulls her revolver out of her leather jacket, and starts firing in through the door Solomon ran into. The RV fires up, and John’s eyes widen as he dashes, grabbing Veronica’s arm and pulling her away before the back wheels run over her legs. John points at the RV peeling out of the service centre.
“ON HIM! NOW! DON’T FUCKING LOSE HIM!”
The Brothers of Mayhem National President helps his niece to her feet as the other members peel out after Cain. Veronica wraps her arms around John, and he holds her close, placing the palm of his hand on the back of her head, gently swaying.
“It’s okay; we are gonna get him, darlin’.”
“It’s not that… i-i-it’s Christian….”
“We’ll find him. It’s gonna be ok.”
The typically very strong Veronica Strader starts to sob heavily into her uncle’s shoulder.
“I found him. That bastard is keeping his dead body in the back of the RV.”
John couldn’t believe it, and all he could do was hold her tight.
“I’m gonna kill him. Solomon Cain is going to die at my hands.”
Veronica let go of her embrace, and John followed her back to her pick-up truck. Behind the wheel, popping the transmission back to neutral, she pushes the clutch down to start the truck. She rolls the window down to talk to John.
“You gonna be a’ight, kiddo?”
With a sniffle, she nods and gives him a weak smile to try and ease his worry, followed by the trademark Strader Sneer.
“Yeah, I’ll be ok… but he won’t when I am done with him.”
