by Hamel, B. B.
When I woke up, the sun was already setting.
I couldn’t believe I’d slept for so long. It must have been hours, just sitting out in the beautiful shade underneath a large tree. I couldn’t believe nobody had bothered me, but apparently the Barone mansion was a paradise or something like that. I’d never slept outdoors like that before, all alone underneath a large tree, but I felt better as I stood up.
I felt like I could figure out what I wanted. I had the urge to talk to Brooks, to understand him. Maybe if he could explain to me what was happening, if he could explain why he didn’t trust Louisa and why he was thinking about taking the promotion, maybe then I could understand.
I headed back into the compound. It took me a few minutes to finally find our hallway, but I felt good and strong as I walked toward our door. I swiped my card, unlocked the door, and pushed it open.
“Brooks?” I called out.
But I got only silence in return.
He wasn’t here. I didn’t know where he was, but maybe he hadn’t come back. I went into the bedroom, but there was no sign of him at all. It wasn’t like we had much stuff anyway, but the bed was made and things were straightened up.
It was almost like he had never been in there at all.
I went back out into the main room, frowning. Maybe I could call the front desk and someone could find him for me. Maybe he was just still out walking around, getting himself together.
Instead, as I went to grab the receiver, the phone started ringing.
Hesitantly, I picked it up. “Hello?”
“Have you thought about what I said?”
It was Louisa. I was thoroughly taken off guard. “I have,” I said.
“And?”
“I still don’t know. I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
There was a short silence. “When I started this, I was nothing,” Louisa said. “When I tell you that I want to give power to the powerless, I don’t just mean the women I save from slavery. I also mean the women I recruit to work with me.”
“Is this how you do it? How you recruit your fighters?”
“You don’t have to be a fighter, Emma,” she said, laughing. “Is that what you thought?”
“It was,” I admitted. “I’m not sure I’d be good at it.”
“Emma, I work with the strengths of the people in my organization. If you’re not a fighter, we’ll find somewhere else for you. Besides, that was never what I wanted from you.”
“What did you want?”
“I want you to work with the girls, talk to them, make them understand where they are and what they’re doing. Transitioning from their old life to their new life can be difficult, and I think you can help with that.”
I found myself nodding along. Maybe that was what I needed to do. It sounded right, like something important.
“I wouldn’t have to kill?”
“You wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do.”
“I need to consider this more, Louisa.”
“Okay. One more thing. Brooks is gone.”
“What?”
“He left about an hour ago. I don’t know where he’s going, and I’m not tracking him. As far as I’m concerned, we’re going separate ways.”
I bit my lip, so confused and angry. “He left the mansion?”
“He did. Think about it, Emma.”
Louisa hung up.
I put my receiver down slowly.
Where the hell was he going and why had he left me here without even a note? We’d had a fight, or something like a fight, but I didn’t feel like he and I were totally finished yet. Maybe at the time it had seemed that way, but it didn’t have to be.
Still, if Louisa was telling the truth, then he was gone. I was left alone in this room.
I was totally free. And suddenly, without Brooks, freedom seemed absolutely terrifying. I wanted him to come back, and I wanted to join Louisa, and I wanted it all to make sense.
Freedom wasn’t easy. It was up to me to decide what was right, and nobody else could do that for me.
27
Brooks
My anger ebbed and faded as I slowly walked the hallways, thinking over the massive choice I had hovering before me.
The more I thought about it, the more I was sure that if it weren’t for Emma, I wouldn’t even hesitate to take this promotion. It was true that I disliked the mafia’s involvement in human trafficking and felt like that whole aspect of their business was actually very wrong and disgusting, but it was possible to love a thing without loving every single part of it. The fucking mafia was strength and power and wealth, and that was what I wanted. Plus, they’d taken me in and brought me up, and that shit counted for a lot.
I was a loyal man. I wanted money and power, but I also took my oaths seriously. When I joined the mafia, I made a promise never to fucking betray them. I wasn’t a rat and I wasn’t a coward.
But Emma made me see that there was more to the world than just the mafia. I never saw much more than that for me, and I was happy killing and stalking my victims. I was good at what I did, and the power the mafia gave me was enough.
Maybe not anymore, though. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like there had to be more important things than just fucking murdering men for the mafia.
I headed back toward the apartment, wanting to tell her that. I wanted to tell her everything, every single word. I wanted her to understand that I couldn’t decide what I wanted because I was torn between the life I knew and the life that was possible. She was the only reason I was even thinking about this, even considering turning down this promotion. I didn’t know if I’d stay with the mafia or what, but I did know that I couldn’t be with Emma and become a captain in this organization that did things she despised.
I’d never felt like this about someone before. Normally I fucked a girl and then left her the next morning, never bothering to get her number again. I was a killer and didn’t have time to get involved with someone. But Emma was different for some reason. She attracted me toward her, pulled me into her orbit. It was the sort of feeling that rose up, quiet and wave-like, until one day it broke across your body and you were nothing without it.
That sort of feeling defined you, became who you were. I was a killer, but I was also a man who wanted Emma more than I could actually explain. It was fucking maddening.
I got back to the apartment and unlocked the door.
“Emma?” I called out as I got inside.
The place was empty. I didn’t know what I expected, but I was disappointed. I wanted her to understand where I was and what I was thinking, but she was gone.
And there was still one problem hanging above all of this.
Dante was still out there, and he knew all about Emma. Gian wanted him taken care of, but that didn’t mean he still couldn’t be a problem for me right now. Dante commanded the loyalty and respect of many men, most of who would follow him into war if needed.
Standing in that room, the memory of Emma’s body still fresh in my mind, I couldn’t help but know what my next move had to be.
I couldn’t hesitate and I couldn’t hold back, not if I wanted all of this to be over, truly fucking over. Not if I wanted Emma to be safe.
In the end, all this bullshit aside, all this stress and anger forgotten, in the end my only goal was to keep Emma safe. Shit had gotten so out of bounds, so far beyond what I had ever imagined was going to happen, that maybe I’d lost sight of what I wanted.
What I wanted was for Emma to survive. The world needed more of her.
I felt like I finally knew what I really needed to do. Looking around the room one last time, I made my decision. I turned and left the room, walking quickly away, and not looking back.
* * *
Hours later, the sun long set, the city was quiet. Chicago never really slept, not exactly. There were always people out on the streets, always noise somewhere. But it slowed down when the sun set, and life seemed almost calm in the m
iddle of the night.
I was wearing all black, my combat vest strapped on underneath a black sweatshirt and black pants. I even had a black knit mask pulled up on my head, ready if I needed it.
I had my body pressed against a wall, sticking to the shadows of the building across the street from Dante’s deli. I knew he’d be working late tonight, since this was the night when most of his bookies and collectors brought their payments in. Dante would be up with a couple other guys, making sure none of their boys were short.
I fingered my weapon, sliding my skin along the smooth barrel of the silencer. The Barone compound had an enormous and well-stocked armory, and I had even been able to borrow a damn car. I’d gotten myself geared up, gone back to my apartment to clean my wounds and change the bandage, gotten changed, and then I had hit the streets.
I’d been staking out the deli for a few hours, ever since sunset. My wounds ached, and I briefly wondered how Emma was doing, but I had to put that shit out of my mind. I had a job to do, a very difficult job. I didn’t have a partner to rely on this time. Whatever happened from here was all on me.
That was how I wanted it. I was sick of taking orders, sick of playing by the fucking rules. I was doing this my way or nothing.
I checked my watch. It was just after three in the morning, and I was betting that they were almost finished in there. The guys would have broken out the whisky by this point, drinking and smoking to celebrate their successful evening.
I pushed off the wall, not waiting a second longer. My whole body was on edge, buzzing with electricity and anticipation. This was going to be it, the final person who could bring harm to Emma, the last obstacle before I could finally fucking breathe again.
I made my way across the street, sticking to the shadows and keeping low. I moved down along the sidewalk, using the cars as cover, before cutting down the alley that lead to the deli’s back door.
Once there, I stopped and listened. It was empty, completely abandoned. That wasn’t unusual, especially if there weren’t many guys left with Dante. I didn’t know how many men would be in there, but I didn’t care.
I was willing to kill however many it took for this to be over. Gian wanted Dante out of the way, but he never specifically said anything about the men who were loyal to Dante. Maybe they were collateral damage, but they knew the fucking risks.
I pressed my ear against the door and listened. I could hear the dull thud of music coming through the wood and smiled to myself. Sounded like they were fully in party mode.
It took me a few tense seconds to pick the lock, but once it was open, I turned the handle and waited. When I heard nothing, I cracked the door and looked inside.
Boxes blocked most of my view, but the lights were still on in there. The music come through louder, plus some talking and laughing.
The sound of women giggling came through, loud and clear.
I clenched my jaw. This could be bad, but I wasn’t turning back. I slipped through the door and shut it softly behind me.
There were boxes stacked in the short hallway that led to the back room. The door was open, and I knew Dante and his guys would be in there.
I raised my weapon. This was it, the final straw, the last thing I needed to do. There was no more turning back.
I was a killer. I was good at this. I took a deep, steadying breath and then moved forward.
I looked inside the room. I spotted three men plus Dante, though I didn’t recognize them. They were all seated around a table that was littered with money.
And in each lap was a girl. They looked young, way too fucking young, and it hit me hard when I realized that these were probably some of the girls Dante bought and sold.
They had their own fucking hookers in there. I studied the girls for a second, trying to get a sense of the room. I could easily kill the two men closest to me, but the third would be difficult. The girl kept moving around, clearly the drunkest of the group.
The other girls looked more scared, more cautious. The men were pawing at them, laughing, and pouring drinks. The girls were clearly trying to loosen up and have fun, but I was guessing it was hard to have a party when you were terrified for your life at all times.
I had to make this fast. The men were definitely armed, though I could tell they were also drunk. There wasn’t much cover between me and them, so I couldn’t waste a single second.
I stepped out into the doorway. The man facing me glanced up and had half a second of surprise before I put a bullet in his skull.
The girl in his lap started screaming as she was covered in blood. The other men began to push back from the table, but they were just too slow.
I aimed and fired at the next man, killing him instantly, spraying his girl with blood. The girls had gotten up and were trying to run away as the men stood, whirling to face me.
I shot the next man in the chest twice. He dropped back onto the table, blood pooling around him, turning the green money red.
The girls were screaming and had all huddled at the back of the room. Dante had his weapon out as I calmly turned toward him.
“Drop it,” I said simply.
“What the fuck are you doing, Brooks?” he asked.
“Ask yourself this, Dante. You’re drunk and it looks like you’re fucking scared. Do you think you can put a bullet in my head before I put one in yours? Which of us is the killer here?”
He gaped at me. “Why?” he asked, clearly shocked.
“Put the gun down, Dante. Put it down now.”
He slowly lowered his arm. “Brooks, what’s happening?”
I walked over to him, keeping my gun leveled at his head. I reached out and took the gun from his hand.
“On your knees,” I said.
“Fuck you.”
I kicked him hard in the knee, toppling him down. He groaned in pain as I hit him again.
“On your knees, Dante,” I said.
He slowly got to his knees. “You’re making a big fucking mistake. You think killing me is going to keep that girl safe?”
I pressed my gun against his skull. “Yes, I do. It also helps that Gian wanted me to do this.”
He turned toward me. “What?”
I grinned at him. “That’s right. You’ve outlived your usefulness, Dante.”
“You fucking cunt.”
“I hope you burn in hell for all the fucking women you’ve ruined.”
“Son of a—”
I shot him in the skull before he could finish his sentence.
His body toppled over, and I stood there, breathing deeply, surveying the room.
All in all, pretty good work. Not my best, but pretty good. I shouldn’t have given that one guy an opportunity to get a shot off, and if Dante weren’t so shocked he would have been able to fire back at me too, but overall, some pretty clean shooting.
The ground was sticky with blood.
I looked over at the girls standing in the corner, terrified.
“English?” I asked.
None of them answered.
“Do any of you speak English?” I barked again.
“I do,” one girl said. “They don’t. I translated.”
“Take this money,” I said. “Take it and get these girls out of the fucking city. Get out tonight and don’t look back. You’re dead otherwise.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why do this?”
I shrugged. “It’s my job and I’m good at it. Now go.”
The girl spoke quickly to the others. They glanced at me nervously but complied. They went over to the table, pushed the goon’s body off onto the floor, and began to stuff money into their pockets. They’d have some trouble passing those blood-covered bills, but a lot of it hadn’t been ruined yet. They’d have plenty to start new lives.
I glanced down at Dante’s body. That bastard. If he’d had his way, he would have used each and every one of them up until they were dead. These were people with lives and feelings, and Dante treated them like cattle.
Soon the girls were gone, and I was left alone in that room.
The magnitude of what was next hit me in that moment. I had just killed a territory boss, a pretty powerful man in the mob. Gian would give me control of all of this if I wanted it. All I had to do was call him right now and tell him that it was done, and then this place plus everything around it was mine.
I’d finally be a true boss in the mob, not just a killer and a hit man anymore, but a boss who ran a territory. I’d have my own killers and hit men, my own goons and thugs and more.
For some reason, I felt nothing.
This was supposed to be my moment. As I stood in the room surrounded by death, knowing that this was the most powerful I’d ever been, I just felt empty.
I’d worked damn hard for this moment. I was loyal to the mob, had done my job mercilessly and well for a long time. And now I’d just done one final difficult job, and this was my moment to enjoy the rewards.
But I couldn’t. As I stood there and tried to picture myself as the next leader of the territory, I couldn’t imagine it. There was no excitement, no joy. I’d felt more when I let those girls go than I did trying to envision myself as an important boss in the Barone family.
And so instead of calling Gian and telling him that it was done, I left. I walked out of the room, went back out into the street, and walked home.
It was that simple. I didn’t bother returning the car I had borrowed, since it was parked down the street from a mob base. I’d call Gian later and let him know what had happened, and I’d tell him that I wasn’t going to take the job.
I’d made my decision. As I walked through the streets, slowly moving along the familiar city streets, I knew I wasn’t taking the job. I wasn’t becoming a boss.
That meant I didn’t know what I was going to become. I didn’t know if I’d remain a hit man or what Gian was going to do. I didn’t even know if I could turn this position down or if Gian was going to try to silence me as well for this. There was just no precedent for this. Nobody had ever turned down a promotion like this before.
But I didn’t give a fuck. I lived my life according to what felt good, and it didn’t feel good to imagine myself as the boss of this territory.
