Two to the Back

by Cam Johns

  “Calm down. Calm down! That’s my son … you’re alive … you have this tool invading my space, and you want me to calm down,” I say, staring at Luca, who has decided he’s full enough to join us in the living room.

  Matteo ignores my outburst and points to the table behind me, silently telling me to sit back down. I stare angrily at Luca, positive his ass has something to do with this, before taking a seat.

  “Does he know who I am?” I ask Matteo.

  “Yes. I don’t know all the details. But I’m not here about you,” Luca responds.

  Before I could get to my feet, Matteo stands, placing his hand on my shoulder to stall my motion.

  “Yo! You better get your boy!” I snap as my Chicago roots are exposed. This kid has no idea how close he is to death right now.

  “Chill! I’ll handle this.” Clearly, he’s not good at handling things.

  As if I’m someone that can be handled.

  “When I left you that day, I had no intention of seeing you ever again. My death was always part of the plan … I just couldn’t tell you that,” Matteo says, sitting. “I knew you would try and stop me if I told you.”

  He’s probably right. The one thing about escaping my Mafia family was I knew I had an ally that was still in, and that he was somewhat my protector. I’ve spent years looking over my shoulder, thinking the other shoe was going to drop. That I’ll be shot in the back … again. But that’s not my main concern, right now.

  “What’s the problem with Jackson now? Has Santini found out that Jackson saw his goon Tony kill his mother?”

  “No … not yet anyway,” Matteo responds.

  I shake my head, staring at the floor. Of course, this day would come. I would’ve been foolish to think this scheme wouldn’t come back to haunt us.

  “Okay, what happened now that he may find out?” I get to the point.

  Matteo looks at Luca before answering. This is going to be some bullshit.

  “So, in order for me to disappear, I had to get help … the same help that funded your new life.”

  The Beneventis. I glare at him, infused with anger and hostility, hoping he knows better than to say that name in this house. Granted, my father finally did something right by me, but I never wanted to hear his name again, either. I just don’t believe I owe him anything and have never felt truly grateful to him for shit. “You went to my father … again?” I snap.

  “Gabe—” Matteo starts with my birth name.

  “That’s not my name anymore!” I snarl.

  “Okay, calm down.” Matteo puts his hand up, as if he’s conceding to my impending outburst. “Just listen.”

  I take a moment, remembering I’m not the same person and can no longer strangle people as I once did. I’m an officer now. A damned good one. That type of violence may cause me to lose my job. Maybe. So instead, I sit back a bit on the table and try to relax. Matteo telling me to calm down again, however, only heightens my elevating aggression.

  “I’m listening,” I grit.

  “Once everything happened with Jackson, your father suggested I come to you for help, which I did. He and I both knew I needed to disappear, because Jackson’s situation, and obviously, you being alive will come back to us, and the family, thoroughly biting us in the ass…again. “

  “I see he wasn’t wrong about that.” I look over at Luca, who obviously knows entirely too much. I still don’t know why he’s here.

  “Well, in a way, shit did come back and bite us in the ass, but I’m here because your father asked me to be.”

  A normal person would feel indebted to my father for allowing me to lead a more civil life … but I hold Veto responsible for much of the chaos in my teenage years. His mobster lifestyle introduced me to death and destruction at a young age … and almost got me killed. His only son.

  So, my father wanting yet another favor from me only entices the rage I’ve hidden for so long. “And why would I help my father with anything?” I ask calmly.

  “To get back at the Don,” Luca answers, even though I wasn’t talking to him.

  Okay, clearly this kid knows more about me than they care to admit.

  “Robert, it’s time to get back at Santini for trying to kill you,” Matteo adds.

  5

  Not This Time

  “I’m not sure I like where this is going,” my wife chimes in.

  We all stand, not realizing she entered the room. I walk over to her, immediately, and grab both of her hands in mine. The concern for our safety is written all over her face. I haven’t even had time to comprehend what they’ve said, let alone decide whether I would help them. But Santini has been a plague in my life since he decided he wanted revenge against my father.

  I need to at least hear them out.

  “Don’t worry. Let’s just see where this goes, baby,” I whisper, swiping her cheek with my thumb.

  She nods, and I lead her into the living room area. Matteo moves over, allowing us to sit on the couch where he was.

  My wife instantly pulls Matteo into a hug, shocking us both. “I’m glad you’re alive and well. I feel like I’ve known you all my life, even though we’ve never met.” She releases him with a sincere smile.

  Matteo glances at me quickly, then smiles at my wife. All he can do is smile, curiously wanting to know what I’ve told her. But now is not the time.

  “Do you remember Isabella?” Matteo asks as we all sit back down, including Luca.

  I smile thinking of the one thing that brought me the slightest bit of happiness: Santini’s little girl. The only one who survived the massacre. “Of course,” I say happily, but then I realize if it involves her, I will move heaven and hell to protect her…just like my own kids. That’s not good for the “me” now.

  “She wants away from her father,” Matteo says.

  “If you want to call him that,” Luca butts in as usual.

  I’m sick of this kid. However, I do agree with his assessment. “And what do you have to do with Isabella?” Clearly, this is the reason for his presence.

  “I love her,” he responds simply.

  My wife squeezes my hand, which is her way of telling me to back off. She must believe this asshole.

  If Isabella loves him enough to get help and leave her father, I guess I’ll have to give him a chance.

  “You were tasked to guard her when the Santini and Calgrone families were aligned,” Luca adds.

  Ah yes, the infamous Calgrone family—the family that did all the dirty work. We were the tough guys of all the mob families because we knew no limits. Not to mention, my father and Beppe Santini used to be friends. It was tough bearing the Calgrone name, and my father never let me forget that. So much so, that he took me to one of his hits to pop my cherry, as they called it. No matter the reason, a ten-year-old should not see his father put one between the eyes of another man.

  “Yep, I watched out for little Isabella until my father decided to help her father’s gumar. No one expected Santini’s resolution to be shooting me—Veto Calgrone’s only son— especially not for his piece of ass,” I say.

  “It started a full out war, but no one can defeat Santini. No one. It crippled us … and now we have the opportunity to get back at him,” Matteo finishes.

  “We just need you to get her out of the house and to the safe house,” Luca adds.

  And that’s why they are here. If she’s still staying in the same house, I’m the only outsider that knows it well…very well. Come to think of it, if Isabella remembers our escape route, and never shared it, I have the perfect plan. And I wouldn’t have to take one life, which would be ideal, considering I’m supposed to uphold the law. With my death, no one else would have known about this, except her. I just need to know who’s in that house, securing her now. After all that drama between our families, I’m sure her security detail has beefed up quite a bit.

  But…

  “Everyone thinks I’m dead!” I say.

  Matteo takes a breath. “We had t
o tell someone you’re alive.” He pauses, noticing the grimace on my face. “Only the person that can be trusted and who will be involved.”

  This entire situation makes me uncomfortable, especially when it involves this youngin’ I don’t know. Telling strangers my secrets never ends well. No one is supposed to know about me, which is how I’ve remained safe for over a decade. Now, there’s just too many. And there will undoubtedly be many more after this!

  I still don’t even know how Isabella and her douchebag beau even know about me being alive. However, because my wife is here, I won’t bring up what they said about Jackson. I’ll just have to talk to my father about it, should I decide to go back home.

  “Listen, the whole reason for your disappearance is Santini. If everything goes right, what comes after this will bring you freedom.”

  “What do you mean?” my wife shouts.

  “Isabella has a plan,” Luca answers her and then focuses on me. “Your role is the second step in something a lot bigger.”

  Bigger means trouble. But Beppe Santini is my archenemy, and he deserves trouble for shooting me in the back.

  I squeeze Lynn’s hand to calm her down, as if this is something that would calm a rational person down.

  “Gabr-Robert… I mainly want you to do this so you can live life normally with your family. But Isabella, and Luca here, are offering our family a mil to do it.”

  A million?

  My wife fiddles with my hand nervously, as her eyes bulge from their sockets. I never thought money could be a motivator for her. But then, I think of her cancer treatments and how they depleted most of my stash. A stash I hate to admit my father mostly funded.

  “Your father is willing to give you half, considering you’re doing most of the work and taking the brunt of the risk. Your father and I will split the rest.”

  Since when does my father play fair?

  “I take it you had something to do with this?” I assume.

  “I can be rather persuasive at times.” Matteo chuckles.

  “My wife and I need time to discuss this alone.” I stand, giving them the signal to get out of my home.

  Matteo stands with me, shaking my hand. “Luca is heading to Chicago now, but we have to head back to the city in the morning. I hope I will see you at the airport. Six a.m. sharp.”

  I shake my head, understanding the urgency of my decision before Matteo heads for the door.

  “She’ll be happy to see you,” Luca assumes my decision as he extends his hand.

  I reluctantly shake it, considering we will probably be working together for the next few days.

  “I’ll handle the time off,” Matteo says. “Just in case.”

  That means he’ll pull in another favor with my father.

  6

  My Soul to Bare

  My wife stands in front of me, separating my legs with her knees to stand between them, before wrapping her arms at my neck. She stares silently with a concerned smile, and I immediately know what she’s thinking. I don’t blame her. The worry is written all over her face as her perturbed glare strikes down my eagerness to do what’s needed … for all of us.

  I don’t want to subject her or the boys to a past that I’ve spent a decade escaping, but what choice do I really have at this point? Too many people know I’m still alive, and that could spell danger for us. One thing I’ve always learned: family is everything until money is involved.

  Santini would definitely pay large bills to one, know I’m alive, and two, know there’s a plot against him being orchestrated by his own daughter.

  “So, you’ve decided to go?” my wife breaks the silence.

  I take a deep breath. “I have to, baby.”

  “I get that. I just didn’t think we’d ever have to worry about your past. I know that was silly of me to consider.”

  “No.” I bring her in closer and kiss her softly. “I shouldn’t have lived as if things don’t come full circle. We both know you can’t escape the inevitable.”

  “You’re right, but what are you going to tell your captain.? There’s no telling how long you’ll be gone.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Just take care of you and the boys. I don’t want to have to worry about you while I’m there.”

  She smiles. “Of course. I guess I should get you packed since you’re leaving first thing.” She kisses me on the forehead and heads for my closet.

  “I can think of something else you owe me,” I say, grabbing her hand to pull her back and lift her T-shirt up over her head in one swift motion. I pull her between my legs as I grab at her ample bottom. “Let’s save the packing for later.”

  Before I know it, she has snatched away from me and began to slowly back up. Her devious grin tells me that she expects to get away from me. “I don’t believe we have time for this,” she plays.

  I cock my head to the side, confused. She can’t seriously believe that I give a fuck right now. I stand abruptly and back her against the wall. My large frame towering over her small stature, as she stares up at me, knowing exactly what’s coming. “What are you doing, Lynn?” I ask as I lean my right arm above her head, and nuzzle my lips against hers, and place my left arm behind my back. Our breathing is steady, but my heart is racing, wanting to shove my tongue in her mouth. My intentions are clear, but she eyes me suspiciously, I’m sure trying to come up with a snide remark.

  Before she can get one word out, I smother her lips with mine, insatiably pulling her lips in with my teeth. The feral assault on her forces her to hastily drop my sweatpants and lift her arms around my neck. Normally, I would make her beg for me to fuck her after teasing me like that, but the need to be inside of her has already overwhelmed me once today. I pull her up to my waist, firmly pressing her body against the wall. I slide one hand between her legs, rubbing her through her stretch pants to get them as soaked as possible. She continues to kiss me fervently, as I play with her warmth with the same vigor.

  I’m done with this foreplay shit.

  I want to feel her warm pussy wrapped around my dick. Before she could stop me, I puncture a hole in the now soaked middle of her pants. Her eyes widen in shock … or maybe anger. I don’t give a shit. I spread the hole wide enough to fit my shaft, and lunge inside her so fast, I almost lose my balance. I grab her thighs, gripping them tightly, and thrusts inside her harder. Her head hits the wall as my erection fills her pussy. I watch her intently as she becomes enthralled within our lascivious connection. A connection that I hope isn’t lost forever. Either from all the information she has learned … or my death.

  She suddenly opens her eyes, capturing my doubtful, yet lewd stare. However, her eyes exude what I’m internally feeling. She always knows what I’m thinking … what I need. She grabs at my neck and kisses me hard, as I continue to thrust inside of her. Her arms getting tighter, as if she doesn’t want to let me go.

  “I love you,” she breathes in my ear.

  Three words that have always weakened me. I growl into her neck as I impale her faster, as she claws at my back. My body stills as I finally release, then slowly kneel to the floor with her on my waist. She lies on my chest as my back hits the floor.

  “I love you too,” I whisper and kiss her on the top of the head.

  We both know there’s no telling when—or if—I’ll be back. Nothing ever goes as planned. I have to play fire with fire and try not to get burned in the process.

  A feat no one can do better than me.

  While my wife packs up for a trip no one truly knows how to pack for, I decide to text my partner, Sanchez, before showering. I have to go to Chicago and do what I should’ve done long ago, but I also have to make sure I have a job when I return.

  Me: Come by the house when you have a chance.

  Sanchez: How do you know I’m not entertaining?

  Me: Man, nobody wants yo’ ass lol

  Sanchez: Ha! Ha! I’ll be there soon as I can.

  Sanchez and I have basically been partners since I graduated f
rom the academy nine years ago. He’s the first real friend I made here in Seattle and has become my brother. But I’ve always felt like a fraud, considering he doesn’t actually know much about me.

  Not that he’s really asked.

  Just the lies and cover-ups I’ve learned to spit over the years. But now, I have no choice but to tell him more about the truth. I just hope I can trust him with it. After all, I obviously became a cop under false pretenses. Another thing I should be grateful to my father for. The man always knows someone. And he found someone to create a clean, new identity for me. Robert Turner.

  I just can’t get over how he disowned me when he thought I wasn’t his. Not only that, but he left a young boy with a drunk, irresponsible mother. Then led me into the darkness of his mob ties, which almost killed me both literally and figuratively.

  And now, here I am, once again being pulled back into the darkness I buried along with my past. Unfortunately, time has come back around to release that darkness with a vengeance against the very man I’ve been trying to get away from.

  Once out of the shower, I find my wife placing the last of my clothes into my suitcase. She somberly slides it off the bed and sits beside it. Even with her back to me, the worry emanates from her body, as I silently wrap my towel at my waist and stand in front of her.

  “I won’t go if you don’t want me to,” I whisper.

  “You have to.” She begins to cry.

  How does she expect me to leave her when she’s this upset? I bend to my knees in front of her as she stares at the floor, her hair falling in front of her eyes. Anyone that doesn’t know her would think this wig is her natural hair, but it isn’t. I stare up at her, wanting to see her, the real her, as she is now. I pull at her wig slowly.

  The shock of my movements finally grasps her attention. “No,” she says, reaching for my hand.

  Keeping my hand on her head, I stare into her eyes, letting her know there’s no need to be embarrassed in front of me. I love all of her, as she is now or will become later. No matter what. That will never change. Without a word, she lets her hands fall to her lap, and her eyes follow. I slowly pull the wig from her head as the tears begin to fall faster, bouncing off of her hands. I lean up to kiss the tears flooding her cheeks softly. Without the wig, the thin patches of regrown hair are now visible.