Met Your Match

J sped through the streets, going as fast as he could to get  to her. He couldn't fucking believe that this had happened again, and  felt incredibly stupid for letting her go by herself. There was murder  on his mind as he pushed his way through the club, knocking down anyone  who got in his way. He stepped into the office just as the man was  punching his precious Adelaide. She was already unconscious, and the  bruising on her face told him that she'd been punched more than once  before.

"Guess who?" he growled, causing the man to  whip around and face him. J was standing there at the ready, a gun  pointed exactly where the man's forehead lined up.

"Freddie!"  the man called, and J's eyes never left him. He heard another man come  in, and could see out of the corner of his eye that he was going to  stand near Adelaide. He looked up to see that the man had a machete to  her neck, holding her head up by her hair. He dropped his gun  automatically, his hands raising above his head.

"Don't hurt her," he growled, his voice low and full of emotion.

"I'll  do whatever the fuck I want," the man holding the machete, Freddie,  growled back, flashing him a smile just as rotten as the other man's.

"What do you want from me?" J asked the men, ready to give them whatever it was. "I have money. I can get you drugs. I can get you whatever you want," he told them, looking between them.

"We don't want anything from you. What we want is your pretty little whore's head," the first man said, nodding to Freddie across the room.

"No!" J thundered, and the original man picked J's gun off the floor and stuck it into his temple.

"Don't fuckin' move," the man told him, and J stared at him.

"If you're going to kill her, you might as well kill me too," J said, staring at Freddie and Adelaide.

"That's much too easy, isn't it, Clown? Why would we want to make things easy on you, what with you killing our brother an all?" the man asked him, and he shook his head.

"Don't hurt her," he whispered, and the man laughed at him.

"Do it, Freddie!" he yelled, and before J even knew what was happening, Adelaide's head was rolling onto the floor. J screamed in pain, rushing to her and falling to the floor. The men laughed at him as they left the room, the first one throwing J's gun back at him.

Scrambling, he grabbed the gun from where it had fallen on the floor and chased them. He shot them both squarely in the backs of their heads, watching their bodies fall to the floor. The people around them scattered, looking back at him and staring.

He went back to Adelaide, untying her body from the chair and pulling it into his lap on the floor. "Sweet, sweet little thing," he whispered to her, not even bothering to stop the tears from pouring out of his eyes. He sniffled as he watched the tears fall onto her lifeless self. "I'm so sorry, Adelaide. I'm so sorry. I love you, sweet little thing. I love you. This is all my fault," he sobbed, his tears mixing with his makeup as all of it fell onto Adelaide's blood-covered shirt. He cradled her close to himself, not able to force a look at her head. He wasn't even sure where it had rolled, but he knew that seeing her lifeless face would likely break him completely.

"I'll love you until the day I die," he whispered, kissing her chest lightly and moving her body gently to the floor and standing. He was covered in blood; somehow he'd even managed to get it all over his face. He moved to the desk and punched a number into his phone, calling the only one of his men that he even kind of trusted to come and pick up her body. He didn't think he'd be able to do it himself. He had to get her out of there. There was no way that he was going to let that shithole be her final resting place.

He shut and locked the office door behind him when he left, walking by the two men who were still lying dead on the floor. He spat on both of them as he passed, not making eye contact with any of the remaining club patrons.

He drove back to the mansion recklessly; more recklessly than usual, that is. He arrived, and as soon as he walked in the door, every single thing reminded him of Adelaide. Slowly but surely, she'd been redecorating just slightly, thinking he hadn't noticed. He had, he just had liked the idea of her feeling more at home and so hadn't said anything. He started taking down and removing everything that she'd brought in, destroying it all as he went. The house was a wreck by the time he was done, and he collapsed in a heap on his bedroom floor. His bedroom was the only room that she hadn't done anything to, but as he sat there with tears forming in his eyes once more, he desperately wished she had.

He'd been so sure that she'd been good for him. She made him feel whole. She made him feel human, more human than he could ever remember feeling. And now she was gone. First Harley, and now Adelaide. He didn't know if he'd be able to make it through it. He lay back on the floor, insane laughs interrupting his sobs.