chapter 38
SEBASTIAN AND BERNARD arrived at the apartment complex after only two missed turns. They parked facing Bailey’s apartment, and even looking through overgrown azalea bushes, they could tell someone was inside. Sebastian switched off the key, and they sat in silence. The truck windows began fogging as soon as the engine died.
“You see that punk’s car.”
“No, but he’s gotta be in there,” Bernard answered.
“Stay here, and if you see him approach, honk the horn,” Sebastian said, opening his door.
“What are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know for sure. But I have to check on her.”
Sebastian pulled a large stainless-steel revolver from under his seat and stuck it inside his waistband at the front.
Bernard watched, nodded his assent, and said, “You be careful.”
“I will,” Sebastian replied, and then shut the truck door.
The parking area was illuminated well, but Sebastian could not see Woody. He sensed that Woody was close. As Sebastian slowly approached Bailey’s apartment, he could hear raised voices that he recognized. In the center breezeway, he could see Bailey’s door was slightly ajar. As he approached, the upstairs neighbor opened his door and made eye contact with Sebastian, who indicated through a hand gesture that he had this under control.
As he stood beside the door listening, he could hear Woody yelling, demanding money. Bailey was holding her own but losing ground fast to Woody’s increasing anger. Sebastian waved at Bernard to come join him. As he stepped through the entrance, he could see splinters on the floor from where Woody had kicked in the door.
Woody had Bailey cornered in the small kitchen, and he didn’t hear Sebastian step in. He was slinging her around the kitchen by her ponytail and was just about to hit her again when Sebastian caught his arm and forcefully threw Woody headfirst against the refrigerator. Woody was momentarily stunned and fell to the floor. Sebastian thumb-cocked his stainless Smith & Wesson model 686 .357 Magnum and touched the cold barrel to Woody’s forehead. As his vision cleared, Woody could see copper-clad, hollow-point cartridges in the two visible cylinders on each side of the barrel. There was no doubt the gun was loaded.
“Bailey, call the police,” Sebastian calmly stated as Bernard came in the front door. “Whether it’s a domestic disturbance or a justifiable homicide is entirely up to this piece of trash.
“Son, if you move even one inch, I’m gonna shoot you…and I’ll enjoy it. You hear me? I got absolutely nutten to lose.” Sebastian stood with all his weight on Woody’s left hand.
Woody was obviously angry, but the gun barrel in his face had served to temporarily subdue him.
Bailey was crying. She had been through this time and again. She couldn’t break free of Woody. She needed a restraining order, but she knew it wouldn’t work. She had endured all of the Woody tirades that she could take. There was no more defending him. She didn’t care what happened to him anymore. She tried to dial 911 on her cell, but her hands were shaking too badly.
“Let me make sure you understand: you ain’t ever going to hit another woman. I don’t even want to hear about you beatin’ a dog. You listenin’ to me?”
Woody nodded his head. His eyes darted between the pistol, Bailey, and Sebastian’s wild, crazed eyes.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your worst nightmare,” he said as he squeezed the trigger and then caught the hammer with his thumb.
Woody tried to sit up straighter but couldn’t. “I’ve never, I’ve never seen you before today.”
“We’re her guardian angels.”
Bailey stood up slowly. She still hadn’t dialed 911 yet. Bernard was watching Sebastian and quickly went to help Bailey. He could tell she was going to have a black eye.
“What makes you hit a woman?” Bernard asked.
Woody didn’t respond; he just looked at the floor.
Sebastian studied Woody’s face and eyes, and he saw no emotion and no feelings. He was simply sorry he had gotten caught. But Sebastian realized they could use Woody. He might be very helpful to them in the next few days. He needed to talk it through with Walter. Bernard was about to dial the police, and Sebastian motioned for him to wait. On the floor was a can of Copenhagen with a customized silver lid that only the most refined rednecks possessed. Sebastian realized it had dislodged from Woody’s belt holder when he fell. He repositioned a foot and slowly pushed it between the refrigerator and the base cabinet.
Woody groaned in pain, and Sebastian asked calmly, “Where do you live?”
“Out on Military Road,” he said with a grunt as he straightened up and ran his hand through his hair.
Sebastian was very familiar with Military Road, as were most of Golden Triangle’s residents. Andrew Jackson had built it after the War of 1812 to connect Nashville with New Orleans, and it ran right through the river town of Columbus. Sebastian bent down and looked him dead in the eyes. “Where exactly?”
Woody told him.
“You gotta job?”
“I’m a freelance gynecologist,” he answered, smirking.
Bam! Sebastian slammed his fist into Woody’s face. Blood instantly began to flow from his right nostril.
Sebastian gritted his teeth as he watched Woody grimace in pain. “Let’s try this again real slow, you little prick. Do. You. Have. A. Job?”
Woody quickly nodded as he wiped blood from his face. “I work at the new steel mill. Out by the airport.”
Sebastian glanced at Bailey’s injuries and was furious. He then looked back at Woody. He knew he had the perfect punishment, if necessary.
“Look, I’m gonna cut you a break. If you swear on all that’s sacred to you that you won’t ever come back here again, we won’t call the police,” Sebastian said in a monotone voice. He was struggling to keep from killing Woody on the spot.
Woody was silent. He slowly raised his head to look at Bailey. “Is that what you want?”
Bailey paused and bit her lip. “Yes,” she finally answered.
Sebastian was relieved. He knew women sometimes defended the person who abused them.
Woody looked off. For a second, Sebastian thought he saw tears in his eyes. He realized he must have cared for Bailey at some level. He just lost control of his feelings and anger took over. Gotta be on drugs now, Sebastian thought. He had heard that meth drastically changed people. Woody had that meth-head look in his eyes.
Sebastian leaned down to Woody’s ear and then whispered through gritted teeth, “Swear to God that you’ll leave her alone, and I won’t cut your nuts off and shove ’em so far down your throat that it kills ya!”