by Sweet, Izzy
“Why?”
“Because he was always on the wrong side of an argument. I don’t really know how to describe it, but he’s… Dad didn’t like him. Something about him always rubbed him the wrong way. But since Dickers had connections above Dad, he couldn’t do anything,” she says then looks to my lap and the laptop I have sitting on it. “What are you doing?”
“Looking at Dickers’s records and his evaluations on some of his trainees,” I say and turn the laptop so that she can see what I’m looking at.
“How in the world did… I don’t even… Why are you looking into him?” she asks, and I can see in her eyes those wheels are turning.
“Because he’s got a hard-on for me and you right now, and honestly he shouldn’t. Something about him and doucheboy are bothering me,” I say and pull up the file I was just looking at.
“Look at this guy, Patrolman Davis. He was assigned to Dickers and within three weeks of working with the guy, Dickers filed three different conduct reports. Each one was specifying a lack of discipline or inability to take directions,” I say.
Pulling up another file, I show her other reviews of the Patrolman. “But his academy files show this guy was top of his class. He had the makings of moving upwards in the bureaucracy and he had very high psychological evaluations.”
“That’s not always trustworthy though. Dad always said you never know who’ll make a good cop until they come face to face with the real world,” she explains. “But what happened to this guy?”
Grinning, I can tell she’s seeing the but I’ve got coming. “He left Garden City and went to the State Police.”
“And? I mean it’s not unheard of for people to transfer.”
“He’s got exemplary reviews and commendations now,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders.
“Maybe he just didn’t get along with Dickers then.”
“Yeah… but maybe he was drummed out because he wasn’t the right breed of cop Dickers wanted,” I say and pull up another file.
“Patrolman Alvarez. He’s had how many write-ups? How many disciplinary actions against him? And yet, he was trained by Dickers. Dickers even gave him glowing reviews,” I say, pointing at the screen.
“One bad apple theory,” Sophia says, and I can tell she doesn’t like that phrase at all.
“One bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole bunch,” I say. “But when there’s over fifteen?”
Pulling up file after file, I point out the red flags as they pop up, and then I start showing her the information Simon sent along with his conjectures.
“He’s formed a little unit of psychos, Sophia,” I explain. “Just like my family, but his are on the right side of the law.”
“And you guys are on the bad side,” Sophia counters.
“Same coin, Sophia,” I say then pull up Trent’s file. “Ignore the name and tell me if your dad would have kept this guy on the force.”
“It’s Trent, he’s not some… bad cop,” Sophia says with an exasperated roll of her eyes.
“Then look at his file,” I insist and push the laptop into her hands. “Look at all of it. Then look at anyone else you can think of. Tell me what you see.”
Getting up from the couch, I approach Fluffers and smirk. Reaching down, I give her a little rub over her ears before moving off to the bathroom to relieve myself of all the coffee I’ve been drinking.
Glancing back at Sophia as I walk, I do notice she’s drinking water out of a bottle.
Hmm, I wonder if that’s because she thinks I might be right?
Sophia raises her voice to get my attention when I walk back through the living room, heading to the kitchen after relieving myself to start on lunch. “James.”
“What’s up?” I ask, walking back over to where she’s sitting. “Grilled cheeses for lunch?”
“Um, sure. Let me ask you something,” she says, staring down at the screen. “Why do you have all this information about the precinct?”
“Honestly?” I ask and look into those eyes that have haunted me like a specter for so long.
“Always be honest with me, James. Even if it will hurt me, always tell me the truth. I want you to promise it,” she says.
And I can feel that lying to her or failing to tell her the truth, could be the one thing that might tear us apart.
I know everything about Sophia there is to know, and I knew this would be something that came up eventually. She wants the truth. She doesn’t like the little lies and half-truths of the world.
“We’re looking into them because when we were tailing the Russians that night your father died, he was working with us. Your father was working with us and his orders were ignored. Ignored to the point that he was murdered on our doorstep,” I say and sigh quietly.
She starts to talk, but I shake my head at her.
“Listen, Sophia, your father was on the take. He wasn’t a bad cop, but he was on the take with us. I don’t know many city officials who aren’t, it’s the way of Garden City. We pay to keep ours safe and in return we take care of the issues that are darker and crueler than us. Like the Russians who tried to take you girls,” I explain.
“But he was a good cop,” she whispers.
“Actually…” I say. “He was one of the more honest ones, and dangerous because of it.”
“What do you mean?” she asks as I move to sit closer to her, putting my arm around her shoulders.
Tucking her into my arms, I rest my head on top of hers and try to formulate my thoughts on her dad.
“Your dad,” I say, “didn’t want to be one of those guys who looked the other way, and we didn’t need him to be. We kill people. We kill a lot of people. But we never hurt children and rarely women. We have hard rules on women and children. The Russians… they don’t have the same rules as us. Each and every woman in the family has been affected one way or the other by the Russians or groups like them that want to take control of the city.
“Your dad wasn’t stupid. He knew we have our ears further to the ground, and he knew we would do what we wanted regardless of whether he could arrest us or not. He also knew we could do things he couldn’t. We don’t sling hard drugs here. We no longer run prostitution rings. And we are very active in going after anyone who does that shit on our turf,” I explain, knowing she needs to hear this shit because it will come out eventually with her being my better half.
“But you’re not angels, James. None of you are. Johnathan…” she trails off.
“Sophia, I’ve killed a lot of men in my life.” I can feel her stiffen in my arms and the sudden memory of last night comes back to me. What I said to her and her reaction. “In the military and out of it. I don’t and won’t pretend they were all bad, or that they were all criminals. But I do what I have to in order to protect three things. You, my family, and me.”
Pulling away from Sophia, I turn her to face me.
Shaking her head, she has this look of fear of me, of my job, of everything, on her face.
“James, you… you can’t say that and—”
“I killed a man because he was trying to give you GHB at the night club. He had a shit ton of it in his pockets. He’d raped before, and he’d still be raping if I hadn’t ended his little streak of terror,” I tell her and force her to look up into my eyes.
“I’m a bastard, Sophia, literally and figuratively. I kill men because they’re trying to push things into this city that would make my family seem like the Brady Bunch. The Russians want this city badly. It’s a crossroads to so many vices across the nation. If we didn’t control it and they did, it would give them a free reign of terror.”
“I’ve lost a lot of brothers in the fight to protect this city. We’re not superheroes though. We’re the bad men who do what we have to keep this shit somewhat sane,” I explain, then sigh at all the words that are coming out of my mouth.
None of it is penetrating through her sense of what’s right or the common notion that bad is bad.
“Charlie would hav
e been sold to the highest bidder, just like you, Beth, and Amanda. They killed one of your friends and they sold countless women and children across the nation. We stopped that. We stopped Charlie from becoming someone’s sex puppet. We run illegal gambling, racketeering, money laundering, protection, and strip clubs. Simon hates those. And more. Weapons trafficking, private security, assassinations, car chop shops, dive bars, and upscale bars. We own banks, low-income properties, and luxury apartments. Sophia, I own properties here and in Louisiana. My net worth isn’t even—”
“Stop.” Sophia shakes her head at me. “Just stop. You said you were in the military… What did they teach you about all of this… stuff.”
“They didn’t. They taught me to point a rifle at someone and shoot until they stopped moving. I learned from my time overseas that the world isn’t nice. All the people who believe in the black and white of things are wrong. The world is full of shit, Sophia, and you’re either the sheep or the butcher,” I say and cringe at the phrase I used.
Fuck.
She just doesn’t get it and I don’t know how to help her understand what we do.
“James, do you think you’re a good person?” she asks.
My answer is immediate. “No.”
“No? Like you don’t think you’re good and you’re not even going to try to bullshit me on that?” she asks again and she’s staring at me dead in the eyes.
“I’m not a good man, Sophia. I’m a bad man with a very broken moral compass. I don’t go to church. I don’t repent for my sins. And I know where I’ll go when I die,” I say and every one of those words is the full truth.
Incredulously, she asks, “And you want me to be okay with all of that?”
“I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never hurt our children. And I’ll give you revenge,” I say.
With each thing I profess, I see her falling deeper into her own mind.
“You say those things like that’s all there is to life. How would I sleep at night knowing the man beside me is a killer?”
“Like a baby because you know I’m your killer. I’m the one who keeps you safe and keeps our children safe,” I say, and I mean it.
“What happens when you die in some gunfight?” she asks quickly, and I can tell that’s something she’s been thinking about because it just feels like she’s been waiting to ask it.
“You’ll be taken into the fold of the family and protected by them all,” I say.
It’s true. If I happen to die protecting the family, they will make sure she’s given protection and everything she needs.
“What about money? What about our children growing up without a father? What about my needs?” she asks.
“You’re a multi-millionaire already, thanks to me. Money will never be an issue. The men of the family will step up and help with the kids. I know that’s not the best answer, but it is what it is. Your needs? I’ll get a silicone dildo made of myself,” I say with a smirk.
Lowering her face into her hands, she mutters, “Oh my fucking god.”
“You’ll be saying that later tonight,” I snicker.
She looks back up at me. “James, you just don’t get it, do you?”
“Sophia, I’m good at my job. I’m careful, and if the worst does happen… Know that I…”
I immediately shut up and stop talking.
I can see those words I was about to speak hit her in a way that she doesn’t want to feel right now.
Looking down at her lap, she asks quietly, “Why did you let him take me?”
“Sophia, if I could have stopped them from taking you all, I would have,” I say.
“No, not them. Him. Why did you let Simon take me?” she asks quietly.
Oh.
Damn.
“Because… It’s complicated…” I say.
“How?”
“If I would have done what I wanted to, this conversation would be happening seven months ago. I would have taken you to my home and tried to make you mine right then and there. But I was ordered to let you go. I was forced to let you go, and it’s been the biggest mistake I’ve ever made,” I say and shake my head.
“Why?” she asks.
“Because I’ve been in hell since we first kissed. I won’t lie to you, ever. Just like you asked me not to. I was with women before you. Many women. Not once in all of my life have I ever felt what I did the moment our lips touched. Not once.”
I take her cheeks in my hands and rub my thumb gently across the lips that started so many nights of torment and longing.
“Never have I felt the way I do now. This isn’t puppy love or infatuation. This is an all-consuming want of you. To have you as mine. To be yours. I know you, Sophia. I know the way you are. I… I’ve watched you from afar for so long it still hurts,” I say, and I can feel that rage still in the back of my head.
The rage of being separated from her.
“I love you,” I say quietly. “I’ve loved you since the moment I kissed you in Elim Park.”
“James, you can’t say that!” She shakes her head at me. “You can’t!”
My phone buzzes multiple times from at least three texts coming in then it starts to ring.
I want to throw the fucking thing away. I want to break it into the millions of pieces my heart is in. But I slowly let my hands drop from her face and look down to the phone.
It’s Gabriel calling.
And the texts are from Lucifer and Simon.
Fuck the world and everything outside of this house.
We both look at the phone while it rings.
I don’t want this.
I don’t fucking want this.
Pushing the connect button, I get that sense of dread I feel from time to time.
“What happened?” I ask as I put the call on speakerphone.
“Michael’s dead. Someone took a shot at Amy,” Gabriel says in his deep gravelly voice.
“What do you mean took a shot?” I ask quietly as I look up to see Sophia’s eyes widen.
“They sniped him from half a mile out with a large caliber round,” he says. “They were aiming for Amy while she was out with the kids. Michael was on duty. Either the sniper fucked up and missed the shot or Michael felt something. Amy says he moved her out of the way, said, ‘Sorry, ma’am,’ then she was coated in his blood.”
“Dammit,” I say, and my stomach sinks.
Michael wasn’t a blooded brother yet, but he was our guardian out there for the women and children.
Fuck.
“Is that why I’m getting texts?” I ask.
“Partially. The police have also raided three of our businesses over the last eight hours. They didn’t show any search warrants and were extremely violent with the employees,” Gabriel growls.
“What do you mean no warrants?” Sophia asks quickly.
Gabriel pauses. “Who’s speaking?”
“It’s Sophia, my wife,” I say before she can respond.
“I’m not his wife,” Sophia growls at me.
“Yet,” I say with a wink at her. I want to smirk, but I just don’t have it in me. “She’s in the family now, Gabriel, on my authority.”
“On your head,” he warns then continues. “No search warrants were produced, and there are no official records of the raids. They hit the Tiger’s Lounge and slapped around the girls. Beat the shit out the manager. They also went through a laundromat we haven’t done anything with in three years. And they hit Lucifer’s office in the city. Trashed it and tried to beat the secretary unconscious.”
“What the fuck?” I ask.
“Yeah, none of what they hit really hurts us,” he says, “They took some hard drives, but it’s all useless information.”
“They start following everyone yet?” I ask.
“Not as of right now,” Gabriel says.
“Who’s heading all this shit?” I ask.
I look at Sophia because I know the answer and I bet she does too.
“Deputy Chief Morrison, Dickers
, and Trent Morrison are the main ringleaders. But we don’t have any actual faces to put to the bodies that did the raids. They were masked up and only had badges identifying them as police. No name badges and no way of actually proving who it was,” he says.
“But let me guess, Simon’s already working on pinpointing who they were,” I say.
“Yeah, as much as he can. But with the masks, helmets, and the bulkiness of the body armor… the intel we’ve got isn’t much. Even with cameras in the buildings,” he says.
“Why did you call? And why did Simon and Lucifer text me?” I ask.
“Because Michael’s will states you’re the man who’s to set up the cremation and spreading of ashes,” Gabriel says. “I’m just the go-through because I’m not fucking dealing with Coss unless I get to kill him.”
“Is this a punishment?” I ask him quietly.
“Nah, brother. This is because of what you did for Peter and Paul. We’ve all asked for you to be the one who takes care of things,” he says, and I can feel the emotion he has behind that.
“Got it, I’ll get it set up,” I say.
“Thanks, brother,” Gabriel says and hangs up.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.
Michael. Another fallen. He would have been in the circle.
Warm hands gently take mine and pull me back from the dark well I feel my mind wanting to throw itself into.
“I’m so sorry, James,” Sophia says as she scoots closer to me, her hands pulling mine into her lap.
This right here.
This is why I love her.
She’s lost so much in the last week and had so many things forced on her… Yet here she is trying to give me solace and comfort.
Opening my eyes, I stare into her eyes. Stare into those depths of humanity.
She’s all that is right in my world.
I’m the ferryman though, I guess. I’ve taken so many lives… and helped my brothers cross the final river of death.
She’s the purity for my corrupted soul.
“James?” Sophia prods me.
“I need to make a phone call, Sophia,” I say quietly as I stand up from the couch and grab my phone.
