Finding Us

by S. K. Hartley

  He pointed to the meeting table on the other side of the room. It was were the Heads of Department sat and discussed operations, rivalry hits, and anything else that needed to be delegated. I was sole heir to that seat, the one that held the power of this mafia family. He was deluded if he thought for one minute I was going to park my ass in that chair.

  “I would rather suck off Moz over there,” I said, flicking my head into Moz’s direction. He gave me a wicked smirk in return. “I would also rather stick pins in my eyes and have Jace pull my nails out with pliers. So, dear fuckhead father of mine, what you want isn’t always what you get.”

  I heard Jace’s quick intake of breath beside me. Yeah, what I just did probably wouldn’t go down very well, but I wanted to make myself clear. I wasn’t putting a single piece of my body on that seat, no matter what the cost.

  Suddenly there was a gun shot. Instinctively, Jace and I ducked, searching for the shooter and offending weapon. The blaring echo of the gunshot quickly brought Dominic and Nicolai out of their forced slumber. I was shocked when I noticed the shot was from my father, even more so when I turned and looked at the wall behind me. Staring at me right in the face was a hole with the bullet still lodged inside it. Fucker nearly shot me!

  “Sorry, Father, did I push a button?” I growled as I turned back to face him.

  I quickly shut my mouth when he took the last couple of steps towards me, aiming his Glock right between my eyes. Blood drained from every corner of my pale and quivering body. I had gone too far, my brain to mouth filter seemed to have become non-existent. Perfect timing, filter!

  The room had become tense and strained as the barrel sat right between my eyes. The shift had been quick, so quick I hadn’t noticed Moz pulling out his weapon. My eyes quickly flicked over to where Moz stood on the back wall, taking in what he was carrying. My heart sank. An AK-47. Someone was going to get shot today, and this time I knew it was going to be me.

  “On your knees, all of you,” my father ground out.

  I didn’t hesitate. I had said enough. There was nothing else to say that would get me out of this mess. Jace, on the other hand, had other ideas. He wasn’t moving.

  “Something you wanted to say, boy?” my father pushed.

  Jace smirked, shaking his head before dropping down onto his knees. Smart ass. He was trying to take the upper hand on my father; even in an unforgiving situation, Jace always had to have the upper hand.

  “Didn’t think so. Shame Amelia did.”

  My eyes widened in utter shock. What did he just say? My father removed the barrel from my head, another one of his minions taking over. He didn’t like to do the dirty work. Turning to Jace, I watched as his chest heaved in what seemed like both pain and absolute fury. My father had just made his first mistake.

  Amelia was Jace’s first love: his only love. She was part of his mafia family, taken under the wing of his father when her parents disowned her for having violent streaks as a teenager, kicking her out onto the streets. One night she stumbled upon the Rowe mansion, discreetly jumping over the heavily guarded gates and took shelter under one of the large trees at the back of the building. As the story goes, she was caught, but she put up a good fight and somehow managed to pull a gun from one of the guard’s holsters. She was the first one to pull a smile from Julius Rowe in five years. She wasn’t given a free pass into the mafia, if that is what you’re thinking; she was pushed to her limits, her loyalty tested, and her violence tamed. She proved herself at every turn, keeping everyone on their toes. Including Jace.

  Fraternizing between mafia members within another family was a no go, but fraternizing between in-house non-blood mafia members would lead to exile. Jace made the mistake of not only fraternizing with Amelia, but he made the most vulnerable one too: he fell in love. Now, almost six years on, and Amelia hadn’t been seen since the night I had been listening in on them torturing her when she pushed the knife in deeper.

  “You have my attention, Knoxx, now what the fuck do you want?” Jace growled beside me, impatience pouring from him.

  “I want my daughter at the top of that table, and I will stop at nothing to get her up there,” my father grunted, clearly pissed at Jace’s attitude towards him.

  Jace chuckled, the rough texture of his laugh shocking me.

  “You think putting her or me at gunpoint will put her on that seat? You’re becoming delusional in your old age, Knoxx. She won’t flinch if you pull a gun on her again. You taught her that, remember?” Jace laughed sarcastically.

  Shit.

  “You little f-”

  My father was swiftly cut off as we heard raised voices and what sounded like a struggle on the other side of the door; something was happening and it didn’t sound good. Suddenly, the room spun beyond all proportions and my heart hammered, hard. Being dragged into the room with his hands tied behind his back was Tate. He was slumped with his head down and his shoulders drawn in. He was unconscious.

  “No,” I whispered.

  My father seemed to have caught the alarm in my voice as a venomous smile crept across his face. He knew, but I had just verbally confirmed it.

  “So, this is what was keeping you in one spot for so long.” My father chuckled as his gaze swept over an unconscious Tate.

  “You’re sick, Knoxx!” Jace growled.

  “Sick? No. Mafia boss? Yes. Huge difference, son. You should know that by now,” my father said seriously. “You know what I can do, what my family can do. Yet you still think it’s acceptable to talk to me like the scummy piece of shit family you come from.”

  Jace suddenly grunted out in pain as a butt of a gun struck him across his cheekbone. It was so unexpected that, for a minute, I had no idea what was going on. Bile quickly threatened to break the confines of my stomach as the room spun once more. Fuck. Breathing in through my nose, I slowly started to feel semi-normal. That was until Tate groaned, making my heart race and my skin prickle.

  I still had no idea who had hit Jace in the face with the gun, and I still had a barrel pointed at my head. A hand clasped around my arm and I was quickly being pulled to my feet. Tate and Jace were both pulled to their feet as Moz moved from his position on the back wall. I gulped hard as I noticed him rolling up their sleeves of his shirt as he stepped forward.

  “I don’t believe I have made myself clear,” my father started, inhaling hard on his Cuban before releasing a large cloud of smoke. “You WILL sit at that table, Little Willow. You will fill your obligations as part of this family.”

  Was he for real? Hell no!

  There was a reason why I ran, a reason why I didn’t want to have any part with this family. It was because of the mafia my sister was killed, why I was still a god damn target, why Jace still protected me to this day.

  My father wanted me at that table with him as a second. He was getting old and the family knew it was only a matter of time before he would need to be voted out. If he was voted out, he was at risk of being gunned down. I was his safety net, keeping his position at the table and getting rid of the target and his back and my own.

  The mafia wasn’t always based on drugs or human trafficking. The business that my family dealt in was firearms. The same for Jace’s family. Two mafia families in the same state dealing in firearms… not a good mix. It all started with a cocky Irishman named Mickey Donahue. To most his name wouldn’t mean shit, but in mob circles it meant money: lots of money. Donahue was the Irish mob leader. His reputation would make even the fearless of mob bosses quake within his presence.

  Ten years ago, Mickey Donahue held a meeting with Julius Rowe, Jace’s father. They discussed a business opportunity in which the Rowe family would supply unmarked firearms to the Irish mob, anything from Uzis, AK-47s, to standard Glock 19. They weren’t fussy: all they required was a safe, secure shipment once a month at the drop-off point. It went on for two years, business was good, and both mafia families were content with their business deal. Until my father intervened.

  M
y father swooped in and stole the business away from the Rowe family, offering the Irish a deal they couldn’t pass up. Julius Rowe was furious, raging for days until he finally decided to place a hit on a member of my father’s family. That family member was me, heir to the ‘throne.’

  The hit went wrong, dramatically. They shot an innocent girl they had mistaken for me. We were the same in every single way, from our blonde hair to our blue eyes, even our height and weight. The hit was ordered and later that night a doctor pronounced the girl dead. The mafia was poison, my family was poison, I was poison. So, I did the only thing that would protect everyone else while at the same time protecting the invisible target drawn on my own back.

  The target was still there. I was still wanted dead by the Rowe family, by Jace’s family, to get back at my father for fucking up a steady stream of income. But I would never go back to the life I once knew: the life where blood was spilled, hits were ordered, and people vanished.

  “No,” I said in the most defiant voice I could muster. “I am not filling any obligation you seem to think I have.”

  “No?” he said, raising his brow. “I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you what would happen if you don’t.”

  I trembled from the sudden change in my father’s voice; it had dropped several octaves and was beyond terrifying.

  Suddenly, Dominic and Nicolai became aware of their surroundings, grunting as they finally came to. The moment their eyes locked on my father’s, two shots rang out. My father shot my half-brother and Nicolai in the head. A small whimper escaped from my lips as blood poured from the gaping wounds in their heads, their bodies instantly becoming limp.

  “Stupid fuckers didn’t know I knew their plan. Spyder is a very fucking good employee.” He grunted. The realization hit me: Spyder was playing off me and Dominic for my father. I had no doubt he was paid well for his deception.

  My father dropped the gun to his side before turning back to me.

  “This is what is going to happen. You’re going to sit at the head of the table and become my second in command, until the time I feel you’re ready to take on the whole of the business. You’re going to do as you’re told. Otherwise I will make sure the Rowe family knows of your little vacation home. If that doesn’t please them enough, I will inform them that their rogue son is with you. I’m sure they would love to know he has been with you all this time.”

  My gut felt as though it was about to fall out of my ass. If my father informed the Rowe family of any of that information, I would become a walking target and Jace… would disappear. Just like Amelia. Just like Dominic and Nicolai would.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Don’t do it, Willow,” Jace whispered beside me.

  My gaze drifted over to Tate, who was still semi-conscious on the floor beside Jace. I was torn: what the hell did I do? For a fleeting moment I wondered if all of it was worth it, whether my love for Tate was worth fighting for. Then I glanced at him.

  I was ready for war.

  “You’ll have to kill me first.”

  The words I had been longing to say to the vile man standing before me lingered on the very edge of my tongue: why? Why now, why me? I slapped them back down, they would only be seen as a weakness to the hard exterior he had built around me all those years ago.

  My father’s gaze quickly locked with mine, a wide smile taking over his face before he broke out into another fit of laughter.

  “Just like your mother, stubborn and dramatic.” He chuckled. “You think I wouldn’t kill my own blood? I wouldn’t even hesitate, Little Willow.”

  I flinched. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I prayed for someone to pull me out of this hell. The absolute disdain in his voice was what gutted me open, his emotions towards his own daughter completely untraceable. Did he always feel this way towards me? For one fleeting second, I cried on the inside for the poor little girl who could never be a daddy’s girl.

  Sucking back my own little pity party, I smirked, shutting out Low Parker, who begged for a relationship with her father. Instead, I brought out the worst of the worst: I brought out his daughter.

  “You don’t scare me,” I hissed. “In fact, you repulse me. You think you can force my hand with a damn Glock? Come on, Daddy, you need to do better than that.”

  That earned me another strike from the butt of the Glock I was mocking. Yeah, that one fucking stung.

  “Who do you think you are talking to me like you’re something? You are nothing, Little Willow. This life is the only one you know. No matter how much you tried running from me, you still look like me, you still act like me, and you can shoot a moving target better than most of the men in this room. Remember who holds the fucking power here, daughter. You may have skills, but I have one thing that you’ll never have.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please enlighten me.”

  “Control.” He smirked, chuckling as he noticed how my eyes widened slightly. “Ah, you still haven’t figured it out yet, have you? You crave control, Little Willow. You’ve fought for control for six years. Don’t think I haven’t been watching.”

  My skin crawled instantly. Knowing he’d been watching me sent a shockwave over my flesh, like tiny bugs crawling across my skin simultaneously. I didn’t respond, too shocked to give him an answer, a smart ass comment, or breath. I wasn’t breathing.

  “I can give you control. You’ve just got to submit until the control is earned.”

  He was talking about the table, about putting me at the top of it. He knew I didn’t want that disgusting seat, but he also knew I still had a target on my back from his own deception all those years ago. Once my name was tainted, it became forever remembered as the girl who walked away. Taking the seat at the table would remove the target, but it would also spark the Rowe family to place Jace at the top of the table too. Change in one family meant change in all of them.

  “I won’t submit. I’ll never submit, especially to you. I’d rather live without control than park my ass on a seat that disgusts me more than you do.”

  The room was eerily silent. Moz, who had stepped towards us, faltered, looking at his leader for some sort of direction or command. It was clear he thought I would forgo my new life and jump back into the vile life I had run from.

  My head throbbed as my heart all but stopped beating as a groan sounded from beside Jace. No!

  “Ah!” My father smiled, moving over to Tate. “Back with the living, are we? Good. We have some news for you.”

  “What the… where the hell am I? And where is Low?!” Tate grumbled as he slowly came back around.

  “You mean my daughter, Willow? Oh, she is just over there,” he said, pointing to me. “A gun’s pointed at her head. I’m being exceptionally nice and giving her the little push she needs.”

  “A … what? She’s—”

  “Yes, smart ass, you’ve been fucking a mafia boss’s daughter. One that is going to sit at that table over there,” he said, pointing at the seat I feared and despised. “Congratulations. I normally would have blown your dick off for fucking her, but hey, I have plans for you.” My father winked.

  I couldn’t look. I couldn’t watch as the latest secret of mine crumbled Tate again. I had made myself vulnerable, giving my father a way to get to me. Tate.

  Every action has a consequence.

  “What the hell do you plan on doing? You going to shoot your daughter, really?” Tate snapped, the rumble in his voice confident. “I love her. You shoot her and I will torture you within an inch of your life.”

  Oh dear god. Did he really just say that? Not only had he threatened a freaking mob boss, my father, but he staked his claim on me. He might as well have written his own death warrant.

  “Really? Maybe I’ll just shoot you first, then her.” My father laughed.

  I could feel tears building. My relationship with my father had always been non-existent. I had no love for my father, but I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pain as the words slipped out of his mouth with ease.
Not a single hesitation.

  “You’ll be arrested and thrown into jail, Knoxx. You know that,” Jace hissed.

  “You think I’ll be convicted? Ha! I have most of the judges on the bench in my pocket, I’ll never see the inside of a jail.” My father smiled.

  “The cops are on their way, I called them before your men decided to use my rib cage as a trampoline,” Tate said coolly.

  He called the cops? Oh shit. It wouldn’t do any good, we all knew that—he would be arrested and questioned but released a couple of hours later. Nothing stuck. Nothing ever stuck.

  “You did what?!” my father hissed, the fury written all over his face. “Do you want to see the consequences of going up against me, boy?”

  Consequences. Consequences. Consequences. I couldn’t breathe, my chest tightened with every struggling breath I took. Suddenly, I didn’t know if I would breathe again.

  BANG.

  Flashes of light danced in my eyes, distorting my vision as a heavy weight held me in place. I couldn’t get my bearings, making me vulnerable yet again. My ears rang in a strangled whisper of pain, sending another slow throb to my head. Everything happened so fast I didn’t know where the hell I was, or how I had gotten there.

  I could see visions of red. I had no idea whether my eyes were even open, but either way, red was all I could see. Was the red from the deep rouge coloring the walls of my father’s meeting room? Or something else entirely? The weight on top of me grew heavier, pinning me down with so much force I winced in pain.

  My legs shook and quaked as I tried to move my hands, but they were pinned underneath the unidentified weight above me. Slowly, the ringing pain in my ears started to fade, and when it did, I decided I wanted my hearing to disappear again.

  “Move and I will blow your brains right across this polished fucking floor.”

  Was that Jace? I couldn’t tell. Where the hell is Tate? Oh god.

  Finally, I managed to pry my right hand from under the weight but what greeted me when I looked at my fingertips sent unbelievable pain throughout my body. Red. All I could see was red. Was I bleeding? Had I been shot? Pushing hard, I managed to move the weight from me.