In the room at one of our hideouts, I sat alone, consumed with grief and anger. We didn’t have many across the city, and we preferred them to be out of sight, but in Chicago, it was pretty hard to have hideouts in a city full of apartment blocks. So, we used one of the businesses we owned for cleaning money. The typical crap every mob king had, from restaurants to men’s clothing stores. A casino could have been added to the list, but then the damn feds would be on it like leeches. We preferred restaurants because there was nothing more satisfying than beating the crap out of someone and then having a good meal afterward.
As much as I tried to erase the picture which kept flashing in my mind, I couldn’t even if a whole week had passed by, it still felt like yesterday. No amount of food, time, or drink could ever get rid of it. I stood as if a shot of lightning was being directed at the chair. I recalled Pa’s lifeless body lying in his bed. The man I loved more than myself was dead, and I didn’t know or even care if I would ever feel the same way ever again.
Today marked one week.
One week since the day I lost him. I couldn’t remember the last time someone in our family had died of natural causes; it was rarely heard of in our business, our lives were always fucking under threat. I’d sent many to their grave without blinking an eye. I’d had others try the same thing on me, and didn’t hesitate in repaying the favor.
Booze.
Sex.
Women.
These vices made everything we did bearable, as we played Russian roulette with our lives; it was clear we would cross the line one day and miss. The day I found Pa dead, it changed everything for me. I felt numb as I reflected on it, as I had every fucking day since then.
Could I have done something differently?
If I’d known something was up, then somewhere along the line, I could have stopped it. The million-dollar question that must run through everyone’s mind when they lose a loved one.
I was born with a gun in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other. My Mexican grandpa raised me and any time we snuck across the border into the States, it felt like a fucking luxury.
Now, it felt like a necessity, which didn’t sit too well with me at the best of times. When Wall Street crashed, my family and the rest of them chipped in to save America’s fucking economy. We weren’t known as criminals then, but saviors.
When it suits them, we’re criminals so much so that their president is talking about building a damn wall to divide us. They should build the fucking wall and see how long they last without our sucio dinero. Our money’s so fucking dirty when they need it to help them survive the economic crisis banging on their doors. The politicians and even bankers come and beg us for dough; they’re interested in keeping us in the country, but the rest of the time, they treat us like we’re animals. As if we’re the ones who should be locked up in cages and thrown into the ocean.
Pa always said we had to scratch their backs because one day, they’d scratch ours. It was a fucking joke because, at times, it felt as if they were scratching ours and leaving fucking scars.
There was no break-in to the house, no sign anything was up, apart from one little detail. Pa wasn’t up at six. Sometimes, he got up a little later… six-ten or so… but by six-thirty, I gathered something was up.
So, I went in to check on him. I knocked on his door. Nothing. “Pa! Despierta!” I laughed as I thought about him having a little too much to drink, and needing a little sunlight to come into the room. This would wake him up for sure, I thought as I drew the curtains. My eyes glanced back, and he was peacefully sleeping in his bed. Or so I believed…
It wasn’t until I looked at him closely, while he was sleeping in his bed. I froze, not wanting to disturb him. But something looked off. He was so still and pale, unlike his usual tanned complexion, so I leaned closer to him, intending to kiss his forehead. His skin was cold. I gasped, rocking back on my heels.
He wasn’t breathing.
I threw back the covers, but they stuck to his body.
Gagging, I stumbled backward. Someone had carved him up like a fucking butcher.
My Pa.
The paramedics and police turned up; they were too late. The fucking pigs laughed, and I even overheard them, saying someone saved a few thousand people by killing Pa.
What few thousand people?
We killed, sure, but they were killing innocents, politicians putting families on the poverty line, but we were the animals. And no one’s innocent in this world.
No one.
I told them to put Pa in the fridge. He wouldn’t be buried, and he couldn’t be put to rest until I found out who killed him. I would put everything to the side. Nothing was more important than seeing justice served.
Juan, my right-hand man, a former boxer, walked into the room and said, “Listo, jefe.” His eyes were dark, and he had no hair. He shaved it a long time ago when he started to go bald. It made him appear a lot younger than his years.
“It’s time, Juan. Time to learn what the mark knows.”
Juan narrowed his eyes and nodded in agreement.
“Someone, somewhere, knows who did this to Pa, and I won’t rest until I find them.” No fucking sleeping, eating, or anything which could be deemed as a luxury. I could still feel Pa’s cold body against mine. Someone did this to him. Forensics said most of it was done when he was alive. I’d make whoever did it pay, and anyone involved suffer the same fate.
I sprung up with a spurge of energy, ready to beat the shit out of the mark. “Let’s see what he knows.”
Juan nodded, and I deliberated about the number of times I’d done this in my life. The figure was nowhere near how many times I’d done it this week already. I stopped counting after the fifth. I needed to find Pa’s killer, and most of all, I needed to make them pay.
At my desk, uncomfortable as always, I tried to maneuver and find a way for my pencil skirt not to cling to every part of my body so I could respire properly. I was fine standing up, but I felt as if someone had a tight rope across my stomach the moment I sat down. I decided to look around to make sure no one was watching, so I could undo my button at the back and breathe without feeling as if I was suffocating. I sighed as my zipper naturally opened as I sat up a bit, and my stomach hung over my skirt.I closed my eyes, wondering why I kept punishing myself like this. I hadn’t put on a little weight, but a lot of weight, and the refusal to buy new clothes wasn’t an option anymore. This was the only skirt I could fit in this morning; as for the shirt, luckily it didn’t have buttons and stretched over my breasts. As for the matching suit-jacket, it couldn’t close. I didn’t need to close it anyway; I could walk around the office with it open, unlike my winter jacket, which I would wear
Fuck!My knuckles cracked against his face. I’d told myself the only boxing I would do these days would be against a punching bag. I would change my ways and stop fucking hurting people. Six months ago, I’d had a widow turn up at my door with her child, claiming I’d killed her husband. I told her I didn’t do it, but what I didn’t tell her was I had ordered the hit on him. She was better off without him. The man had a woman in nearly every state and most likely more children, but it wasn’t my business to dig into her love life. No, I wasn’t any marriage counselor, for sure. But I did make a promise after seeing her son’s blue eyes swell with tears as his mom said, “This is the man who killed your father.”I promised to stop being the monster I’d been for so long, and try and value the life in front of me, unless I really had to put it to an end. Just like a leopard couldn’t change its spots, I knew that I was kidding myself by making such a promise.I knew even if he was a shit husba
“Adrianna, sit. Carrie, you can go,” Mr. Gold demanded as he stood. He didn’t try to stall what was about to happen next. I looked around his ice-cold office, thinking maybe HR would pop up from somewhere, anywhere. But they didn’t. For now, we were alone as the sliding doors closed. Carrie left with a big smile on her face; no doubt she would reward him for getting rid of me. “Adrianna, I’m not going to beat around the bush. You know why you’re here?” he said as he slowly moved towards me, pointing at the sofa as if to tell me to sit. He didn’t come next to me straight away, but pressed a button and then out of the wall, a bar magically appeared. Had he watched some video on minimalism? Then decided the only way to have an office as cold as possible, was to make everything was in it appear from nowhere. Hidden, so no one could know what was truly in the office. I started to wonder if the sofa was hidden, and he pressed a button to make it appear. My mind wandered as I looked around
I shuffled through my bag, which had been neatly waiting on a trolley and walked out of the elevator when it opened a moment later. I couldn’t believe my purse was there; someone could have taken it. Then again, there were cameras everywhere in this damn place. I sighed as I grabbed it, thinking I’d call Jen and tell her to meet me for lunch. No phone.Shit, of course!It was the company phone. I had gotten rid of my personal line trying to cut back on bills. It felt silly having a private phone when I could use work’s. Now, not only had I lost a cell, but all my numbers. Jen told me to back up my numbers from the time I cut my line, but I didn’t listen and the only number I knew by heart was hers.My pass wasn’t working as I got to the security gate to leave the building in my car, I considered embarrassing myself and telling security I’d been fired. I needed to get out of the building. Mr. Precious Gold had thought of everything else; why didn’t he let my pass work so I could leave
I couldn’t go there directly, and not with so much fucking emotion running through my head. I couldn’t appear frail, not in this fucking business. I had to make a pit stop at home. It was the other side of town, but I didn’t give a fuck, they could wait. A quick shower and a change of clothes would set me straight. Right now, I was so fucking emotional. I still had Mario’s tears and cries running through my ears as if he was in the car with me. He’d stopped the moment I told him what his mom had done, when anger took over him. I couldn’t regret what I’d done; no, I couldn’t cave. My phone rang so I turned it off. I didn’t even feel like listening to the radio. What I needed was a shot of whiskey, the smoke of a cigar, and a shower and a change; then I’d be back to normal.“What the fuck!”I screamed out as the lights turned red and I did an unnatural stop. Someone was testing my patience today. My car jumped the lane as the car behind me bashed into me, and I swung the door open to s
Another dead end!Fuck, this day was supposed to be a good one, giving up some positive leads. If I didn’t find my dad’s killer and take revenge, I was a dead man. Fuck, I could hear them already. He couldn’t even find his dad’s killer. He’s done. We should take him out. Either way, I would be taken out. Damned if I did; damned if I didn’t find the killer.I disturbed Jose as I wiped the blood off my hand and heard the whimpers from Pete’s throat. He was one of the lookouts on the North side. He worked for whoever was paying the better price. He was one of those types who had no real loyalty and was only interested in green. No one would miss him, so I knew I could get information out of him, and if I didn’t, then I could dump him, and his spot would be replaced in a heartbeat by the Lopez family. They preferred hiring their own, so realistically I was doing them a favor. Pete wasn’t as sharp as he used to be. The man should have been out of the business a long time ago. He was hit
I sighed as I played around with my food. Friday had come and gone and still no Ricardo. It was as if I was missing him, which seemed weird because I didn't know him. Even though he was the reason I was here. The brief time we'd spent together, he'd turned me on and scared me at the same time, so maybe this was why I was so intrigued by him. No one had ever had this effect on me. Never in my life, but then again, I'd never met a mobster up close and personal until now. "You should go explore the grounds. I don't know why you stay inside like an injured dog," Lourdes said, the only one person who did speak to me in the house as I sat down for breakfast. She had a way of making me feel good and bad at the same time. She reminded me of my Aunt Brenda, my dad's sister-in-law. We used to see her all the time as kids, but as soon as Dad left, her appearance in my life did, too. They even dressed alike, flamboyant, as if they were always going to a party. Lourdes had a cute blond bob and I'
Finally, I made it home. I told Lourdes what time I would arrive, and she told me dinner was ready and waiting for me in the dining room as Juan parked the car. As he came to a stop in the driveway, I remembered I had company. The whole flight the only thing on my mind was Vedova. Why was she playing on my mind when I had Adrianna waiting for me? I hated the way Vedova had treated me, like a little boy on the playground who needed direction from her to know how to play. No, I didn't need direction from anyone, especially the likes of her. "Jefe, you want me to stick around?""No, go home. Get some rest."He smiled. “Sure thing."That kind of surprised me, Juan seemed a little disappointed when I told him we were leaving, yet he was quite happy once we did arrive back. As I opened the car door he asked, "Jefe, como estas?" I didn't answer him as I sat up and stepped out of the car. I needed to have a shot of something and go to bed; no more did I feel the need to eat. We didn’t use t