Two to the Back

by Cam Johns

  I shake my head, thinking of my childhood, and understood completely. I don’t want my sons anywhere near this shit. But, you can’t keep a child from the Don. I don’t understand how my father thought Santini would just roll over and take that shit. “Dad, you thought Santini would back down … you’re nuts.”

  “Honestly, no, I didn’t. I didn’t plan to tell him she was pregnant. When he got down to the office, I just simply told him Antonia wanted nothing else to do with him and ran off. We actually joked about it. He was fine.” He looks down at the floor again, then turns to sit back on the couch across from him. “I forgot to put the sonogram away.” He puts his head in his hands.

  I decide to rush this along, putting two-and-two together. “He saw it and knew she was pregnant. You’ve just lied to him, so…”

  “He got so angry about it. He demanded I tell him where she was … I refused.”

  This infuriated me. I don’t understand how he could possibly put Antonia before the family. She was a nobody, a piece of ass, really … well, so I thought.

  I stand abruptly. “You put some bitch in front of the family? How could you? You didn’t even think Jackson was yours.” When I said his name, however, I realized if Santini raised Jackson as his own, things would have turned out much differently.

  After all the things I’ve had to do for my father, I could only imagine the things that Jackson would have had to do for the Don.

  “I was pissed, all right? Jealous! She was more than just a piece of ass.” My father fumes, matching my animosity. He stares at my mother. “Your mother was gone. Even though I made every effort to keep her at a distance, I loved Elena greatly. I didn’t want her to be used against me … or you. I grew to love Antonia, and then he wanted her. The Don gets what he wants. He has no boundaries. None! I didn’t want any of you to be used against me … that was never my intention.” He walks over to me to face me, eye to eye.

  I stare at him. “Yeah, well, intentions or not, that didn’t work, did it?”

  He looks at the floor. “No, it didn’t.” He takes a deep breath. “When Beppe was leaving, he said ‘remember I believe in an eye for an eye Veto,’ and then left.” He shakes his head. “I assumed he would punish me in some way. But then you were thrown in front of the restaurant like a piece of garbage!” He stares at me intently, tears falling from his eyes. “He wanted to take my kid for keeping him away from his.” After all, his sons were all murdered … taken away from him.

  What the fuck?

  I’ve never seen him cry before. Ever. I want to regret how I’ve behaved but I can’t yet. I just can’t. “But yet you still work with this guy?”

  “What the fuck was I supposed to do, Gabriel? I tried, but I can’t just kill the Don! The only thing I could do was get you the hell outta here and bide my time.”

  I look away from his stares and glance at my mother, who has calmly remained seated on the couch to give us time to hash things out. “And when did you find out Jackson was yours?” I say, still looking at my mother but speaking to my father.

  “Elena did.”

  How is that even possible? I sit beside her on the couch, and she eyes me cautiously. Sure, I’m angry, and quite honestly, I should be pissed with her just as much as my father. But I can’t be. I could never hate my mother under any circumstances. She may have left me to the wolves, but she couldn’t be much of a mother to me in that condition. “Mom, tell me,” I say quietly.

  She looks up at my father, who moves to sit on the coffee table in front of us. “Well, when I disappeared, I moved to Los Angeles with family I never told your father about…or you…to get clean.” She looks at me nervously, as if I would blow up on her for wanting to keep her family safe from The Family.

  “Go on,” I encourage her.

  “When I heard what happened to you from friends in the neighborhood, I came home.” She looks over at my father. “After I almost killed your father, I demanded he tell me everything. He did. So, of course, I wanted to kill this Antonia woman.” She laughs, which becomes contagious, and my father and I join her. “I blamed her for everything initially, but I ended up helping her instead … with everything. Quietly, of course.”

  “Elena helped raise Jackson as best she could, at a distance,” my father joins in.

  “It wasn’t until he was five that I started to really … see your face.” She stares at me with a glow. “I thought it was my imagination torturing me for not being there for you at that age … or any age.”

  I grab at her hands. “It’s okay, Mom.” I keep her from getting too emotional.

  “I told your father we need to get him tested. We had to know, and that was the mistake. We should have done it somewhere else, out of Beppe’s reach. Once we got the results back, and he turned out to be your father’s, it didn’t take long for word to reach Santini that he had a five-year-old son.” She gets quiet, trying to fight back the tears. “That poor girl,” she whimpers.

  My father leans forward, grabbing at her hands. “Eye for an eye, remember?” He stares at me. “He started having your mother followed. Don assumed the child all those years ago was actually mine, so they had to find him. They knew they would only get answers from her movements.”

  “I got careless. They followed me all the way to where Antonia was living in South Orange, New Jersey.”

  “How was Jackson saved?” I asked, curious that Tony didn’t do what Santini sent him there to do. I didn’t think he would kill a small child, but I’m sure he would have kept him from my father.

  “Your father and I coached him constantly. He was a smart young boy. He knew if something went wrong, or if someone was in the home that he didn’t know, he was to go to the safe room your father had built and call Matteo.”

  “My son did just that.” My father gleams.

  Interesting how much emotion he’s able to show now. “And that’s where I came in.”

  “Yes. We both knew you would keep him safe. We just weren’t sure you would do it if you knew for sure he was your father’s,” my mother responds.

  I’m not sure why that statement disappoints me, but it does. “You two really thought I would turn away a child because it’s yours?” I direct my questioning toward my father. But then I take a moment to think about it, while my parents both stare at me as if I just asked the most ridiculous question. Have I really shown how much I’ve hated my father? I thought I hid it pretty well. I mean, I did anything and everything he ever asked of me. I guess I couldn’t really hide my disdain.

  This still doesn’t tell me how Isabella knew to ask my father to get me here to help her. “One last question, how did Isabella know about me?”

  My father shrugs his shoulders. “Her pure diligence to get away from her father. She wanted to find the young boy that got away from her father … Jackson. And she did. In Seattle, because we were dumb enough not to change his name even though he was on the other side of the country.”

  I don’t get it. “There has to be a ton of Jacksons.”

  “Yeah, but how many start leaving a trail at the age of five? No birth certificate or birthplace … just one sealed flight plan that showed Emiliano Matteo Rossi and child passenger on a private plane to Seattle.”

  Then I remember Matteo mentioning his not so fail-proof plan. “I take it she figured out where the boy ended up.”

  “She’s pretty resourceful…it’s a good thing she’s on our side.” My father laughs.

  She’s always been on my side.

  I decide it’s time for forgiveness. My father may be an ass, but he’s an asshole who genuinely thought he was putting our happiness before him. I couldn’t really expect him to leave the life because it was all that he knew. That I knew. That my mother grew to know because she loved my father. Unfortunately, this lifestyle can only destroy. And it did. It destroyed my entire family. But it will not take my future nor destroy Jackson’s. He could never know about this. I refuse to let my father taint his innocence. After all, he ha
s had enough to deal with as of now, and he doesn’t even remember what happened within the first five years of his life. Or he doesn’t want to tell me about it. Either way, it’s up to me to make sure he never sees this part of my life ever again.

  “I want you to understand this. I get that you did what you could with what you were given. So, I’m letting everything go right here, right now.” I turn slightly so that my body is completely facing my father. “Dad, Jackson is my son now. After I get Isabella tomorrow, you can never see him or me again.” I stare at him as he shakes his head, understanding what must be done.

  He bends to retrieve the album my mother handed me off of the floor. I forgot I even had that thing.

  “Open it.” He smiles.

  I take the thick album from him and open it. My mouth drops open, shocked at the very first photo. It’s me graduating from the police academy. I look at both of them, confused. How did they even get this? I should be upset because it was their carelessness that got Antonia killed and Jackson in harm’s way.

  But I realize they’re just parents, who have missed their son. Putting myself in their shoes, I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to be involved in my son’s life, one way or another. I scan through the album, landing on a spot where a photo is clearly missing.

  “There was a photo of you and your partner there. I’m sure that’s what that snitch found and gave to Lucca,” my father says angrily.

  I don’t press that any further knowing Isabella and Luca knew to at least destroy that photo. So, I continue to flip through the pages. They are filled with photos of my and Lynn’s wedding, Jonathan playing at school, and then … Jackson. There are baby photos I never thought I’d see.

  “Can I take this?” I asked, considering they already have a similar one of Jackson. I know Lynn would love to see it.

  My father nods. “Of course.” He takes the album from me and hands it to my mother, then grabs both of my wrists; since I’m still holding the photo of Jackson in his crib sleeping. “Gabriel. I know you will be a better father than I could have ever been … have been. I just want you to know that I’m proud of you. Even though you’re a cop now,” he chuckles, “you will always be my son, and I love you.”

  My eyes widen with his admission. I can’t believe he just told me he loved me. Something I craved to hear all of my life.

  He suddenly pulls me up and bear-hugs me. I feel his tears against my cheek, as Mother joins in our embrace.

  “I love you, too.”

  12

  What Happened to Our Pact?

  After about an hour or so of my mother, father and I catching up, laughing about the times we’ve missed with each other, it was time to get down to the reason I’m even here.

  “I think it’s time for me to cook for my boy,” my mother says, pinching my cheeks.

  “I’m far from a boy, but I would never give up a chance for pasta.”

  “I know.” She smiles and kisses me on the forehead before leaving my father and me alone.

  My father walks over to the foyer to yell for Matteo and Mykel to join us. I’m not sure why this Mykel dude has to even be involved. Quite honestly, I’m not sure why my father trusts anyone anymore. You just never really know who’s on your side truly. And after my father displayed that his loyalty will always lie with me, his real son, I don’t know how much Mykel can actually be trusted.

  “Everything all good?” Matteo asks, patting me on the back of my shoulder as he sits beside me.

  “Actually … yeah.” I smile, nodding at my father as he and Mykel sit across from us on the other couch.

  Mykel hands him a rolled-up document, which my father lies across the coffee table. I notice it’s the blueprints for a house. As I look closer, I realize it’s the Santini house.

  “We don’t need this. I know how I’m getting her out. But, Mattie, just in case I need you waiting here for us ready to pull off.” I point to a corner a few yards behind the house. “But we do need some sort of distraction. I’m sure the house is flooded with security.”

  “Security will actually be less of a problem,” Mykel adds.

  I stare at Mykel, waiting for him to explain what he means, but I just don’t think he should be here. I think it should remain closed to Mattie, my father, and me.

  “Mykel, I’m sorry, but I think you should go. I don’t know you.”

  “And…your father does…and Matteo.”

  “Yeah, we’re good here, bruh,” Mattie adds, but I shoot him a shut the fuck up look, so he puts his hands up, conceding to my request.

  I stare at my father, silently asking him to respect how I feel, and he does.

  “Mykel, leave us,” my father commands.

  As Mykel stands, without a fight, he glares down at me with a silent threat. I realize then that he will definitely be a problem. I’ll have to be sure to handle this issue before I leave. He knows way too much. He stalks out of the living room as Matteo begins to talk. I hold my hand up, stopping him until I actually hear the door close.

  “Dad, you can’t trust that guy. I just know it.”

  “Gabe, it’s fine. He’s been at my side long enough for me to know he wouldn’t harm me … or you … or anyone else.”

  Wake up, old man. “We thought the same about Santini.”

  He glances between the two of us. “You’re right. It will be handled.”

  I nod, not caring what he actually means by ‘handled.’ It doesn’t really matter. As long as he’s out of the picture.

  “Moving on… While you were talking, we got word that one of Santini’s major shipments was intercepted.”

  “Shit!” I exclaim.

  “This must be part of the plan. Luca said it would begin today.”

  “He’s got this all figured out.”

  “It’s not him. It’s Isabella,” my father says. “That’s who sent word. She’s the one orchestrating all of this.”

  “I don’t like that guy,” I say, happy he’s not actually here to help with this.

  Mattie chuckles. “Ugh, no kidding. You made that perfectly clear.

  My father laughs, “I told him not to do nothin’ stupid when he met you…I guess he didn’t take the advice.”

  “No, absolutely not,” Matteo says as we all laugh.

  I’ve never been so at ease around my father. Growing up, I’ve always had to have my guard up, not knowing what’s beyond the next corner. But sitting here with my best friend and father, without that intruder Mykel, is a good feeling. I just wish we would be able to share other moments like this.

  “Okay. So, I’m sure she would have never told anyone about this.” I slide up to the edge of the couch to reach a spot on the blueprints of the house, a few inches behind the iron gates. “Bells’s exit strategy would be here.” I point to what seems like a few yards beyond the back of the house.

  They all lean in, staring at the map.

  “There’s nothing there,” Mattie groans.

  “There is. It’s just not here. When we were younger, she showed me this door behind her closet. It leads down the wall of these stairs, and around to the back of the house, through a tunnel beneath this big ass backyard. We’ll come out right here.” I point to the same corner where I told Matteo to meet us.

  “I don’t even understand how she found this,” my father whispers.

  “Well… I think it was her brothers. One of them heard a guard say the house belonged to some mob family that was known for building escape paths. They searched … and found it.”

  “The kids? Her father didn’t?” Matteo asks.

  “Apparently not, because she always used it to ditch her detail. Which is why I was even asked to look after her.” She wouldn’t run from me. “Apparently, all the other ones have been sealed off.”

  “Okay, well, you’ve got that covered. I guess you just walk in and walk out with her.”

  “Well, I’m sure shit will go wrong, so I’ll need a gun,” I say easily, as if I don’t have
to return to my other life…as a cop.

  My father goes behind the couch and pulls out a briefcase, then places it beside the blueprints. “Pick one … the both of you,” he says, then rolls up the blueprints to the house.

  I open the case up to five guns, which I assume are clean. I grab the gloves that are also in the case and put them on before picking up the guns. Mattie stands and does the same. I grab the Glock, the Beretta, and a few clips for each.

  “Umm … you sure you don’t need me to go in with you?” Matteo asks, noticing me overloading on the firepower.

  “My son likes to be prepared,” my father chuckles.

  I smile, placing my choices on the couch beside me. The only problem with me taking the chance of getting her out myself is being recognized. Honestly, Matteo can’t be recognized either. We’ll definitely need those FBI getups. But, once I’m in that house, I need a plan in case someone sees me. I don’t want to kill anyone, but I will if I have to. No one can know I’m alive. Just in case, there is something that comes to mind that may help.

  “Dad, remember that job we did in Jersey when I was sixteen? Do you have any more of those syringes?” I ask, knowing it may be a long shot.

  “I missed having you. Always thinking ahead. I have them upstairs, I’ll give you a couple.”

  I stare at Matteo, who looks confused. “Don’t worry about it. Where are we taking her once we’re out?” I ask about the safe house.

  My father simply tells us that Isabella didn’t divulge that part. “She will tell you where to go once you have her.”

  Once everything is settled, and we agree on the strategy for Isabella’s escape, as well as how the million will be split, it’s time for my favorite part of the night: food!

  “Let’s eat! I need bread and oil…now!” I chuckle, getting up from the couch, and wait for my father to lead me to the dinner table.