by Nyssa Renay
“Where to?” Marcus asked as Joseph climbed gingerly into the back seat.
“Christoff’s restaurant…over on Bennington,” Joseph replied as he pulled a new cell phone from the hidden compartment beneath his seat and texted Christoff that he was on his way over.
“Joseph?”
“Yes, Marcus.”
“Is Allie all right?” he asked hopefully.
“She’s alive, but that’s all I know right now.” He sighed, leaning against the headrest. “I’ll call Detective Sanders in the morning and find out more, okay?”
Marcus smiled. “Thank you.”
“Marcus,” he said making eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. “We’ve been working together for well over a century now, and I’ve decided that I don’t want to be responsible if something happens to you. So, after tonight, you’re no longer working for me.”
“You’re firing me?” Marcus’s jaw dropped.
“No…I’m saving you.”
“From what?”
“Me,” Joseph grumbled. “If you keep working for me, eventually I’m going to get you killed. I don’t need that on my conscience.”
“Well, that’s not really up to you, now is it?” Marcus smirked.
“How so?” Joseph was taken aback by the assertive reply.
“When we first met, you told me that I could go anytime I wanted to, and you probably said the same to Allison. But we’re both still here…because of you.” Marcus chuckled. “We know the risks, Joseph, even though you think we don’t. As time goes on, you won’t be able to do this all by yourself…you know that. By trying to rid yourself of us and run away again, which I know is what this is all about, simply isn’t going to happen.”
“How did you know I was planning to leave Bloodburg?” Joseph asked, mystified that Marcus could see through his façade.
“What…you think I don’t recognize the signs by now? You’ve used those old orange stickers to tag the most expensive and valuable items in the shop. When you begin to pack the pricy items away, I know it’s only a matter of time before we pick up and leave for wherever you’ve decided on…I’ve known you for too long, my friend.” Marcus smiled compassionately. “Besides, the moving truck is lined up and ready to go when you are.”
All Joseph could do was smile as he changed into the clean suit Marcus had brought for him. “Thank you, Marcus.
Marcus returned the smile as he turned down the street to Christoff’s restaurant.
***
When Joseph entered the restaurant, Christoff flung himself at Joseph and wrapped him in a long, exuberant hug.
“You did it!” Christoff cheered as he pulled back and held Joseph’s shoulders out at arm’s length. “I can’t believe you finally took out Palencio. The city is all ours, Joseph!”
“Yes, it is.” Joseph smiled, tilting his head. “That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about.”
“Of course. Of course, my friend,” Christoff replied, humbly. “Let’s go sit at my private table and talk, huh?”
“I don’t suppose your kitchen is still open?” Joseph asked as he headed to the table. “I’m absolutely famished.”
“They were just cleaning up for the night, but for you, anything,” Christoff offered.
“Excellent.” Joseph stopped and smiled. “I’ll have a steak dinner…thickest cut you have…and a bottle of red.”
“For the hero of the hour? No problem,” Christoff nodded and called to one of his men. “Georgie, tell the kitchen to stop what they’re doing and get Joseph’s order done right now!”
Georgie nodded and rushed off to the kitchen. Christoff walked to the far side of the room where a beautiful alcove was carved into the wood and pulled out an old, dusty bottle.
“This was my father’s favorite,” Christoff said, motioning for Joseph to have a seat. The elated mob boss twisted a corkscrew and held the cork to his nose as the bouquet of the wine conjured memories. “Even to this day, the smell of this wine reminds me of him,” he said, filling two glasses with the beautiful ruby liquid and sitting across from Joseph. “Let’s toast to our victory, shall we?”
“Sure,” Joseph replied half-heartedly as he held up his glass.
“To my father,” Christoff began. “I wish he could have lived to see this day…the day when our family finally takes back the city of Bloodburg. To my father!”
“To Blackjack,” Joseph said, touching his glass to Christoff’s and drinking half the contents of the glass in one smooth gulp.
Christoff laughed as he refilled Joseph’s glass. “Oh my God! I’d completely forgotten your nickname for him. He always cared about you very much, Joseph. As do I.”
Joseph smiled and stared quietly at Christoff. “You know, in my entire life, I’ve never met a man as superstitious as your father. He always carried around that jack of clubs playing card in his coat pocket…called it his lucky charm.” Joseph smiled, looking down at the table, reliving the old memory. “I think he may have been right, because every time he forgot to put it in his pocket, something bad happened. Jobs went wrong, good friends died, or he came too close to getting pinched by the feds. Eventually, that card was always with him. And I mean always. It was a constant reminder of how things could bite you in the ass when you least expect it.”
“Yeah, I’ll never forget how much he loved to talk about karma and all that shit,” Christoff chuckled. “You two knew each other a long time. Did he ever explain why it wasn’t a king or an ace? You know…a card that represented power?”
“The jack is the most powerful male face card next to the king. The card he carried wasn’t to represent himself…it represented you.” Joseph took another long sip of wine. “It was his reminder to take things carefully and avoid rushing into anything. I think it kept him grounded, knowing he was setting an example for you. He didn’t want to be overcome with power or take foolish risks. He learned to ride the line between what was legal and what was illegal so seamlessly that the police looked the other way instead of going after him. One of his biggest fears was going to prison and being unable to watch you grow up. Everything your father did was to keep you safe.”
Christoff nodded. “It’s true. He was always there for me. He was never a cruel man…” He forced a smile. “…unless he had to be. Then, he was a real sadistic prick.”
Joseph laughed. “Yes. That is true. But he was a humble man, which is what I hope you’ll be, now that the city is yours.”
“You mean ours, right?” Christoff said playfully, but Joseph’s stern stare told him the answer before any words were spoken.
“No.” Joseph sighed. “I’m leaving Bloodburg for good. The city is now entirely yours…a promise I made to your father a long time ago. I believe Detective Sanders will be onboard after what he saw tonight. The details will be worked out before I leave.”
“When are you leaving?” Christoff sulked.
“I’m not quite sure yet, but there’s something I need you to do for me.”
Christoff grinned slyly. “Don’t worry…I’ll make sure your fifteen percent gets deposited every month.”
“Five,” Joseph replied, as he drained the wine in his glass. “I only want five percent.”
“Only five? Are you sure?” Christoff said, filling Joseph’s glass again. “To be honest, after what you’ve done for me, I think you deserve twenty or thirty percent,” he said with a guilty chuckle.
“It’s never really been about the money, Christoff,” Joseph admitted as a slow smile spread across his face. “I have enough money to last me at least another hundred years. I want you to take my other ten percent and put it back into the welfare of this city.”
“Of course…but how?” Christoff asked, confused.
“Detective Sanders will let you know how to allocate the money when you start working together. And I mean together,” Joseph said sternly. “You are to protect and assist him at all times. Whenever and whatever he n
eeds. He doesn’t want a dime from you. He doesn’t want to work for you. All he wants is for this city to stay safe and the criminal activity out of the public eye, which means keeping other organizations from moving back into Bloodburg. He knows he won’t be able to protect you from the feds or other government agencies, so you need to be smarter about how and where you conduct your business.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Christoff threw his hands in the air in frustration.
Joseph sighed. “I once heard about a tyrant during the Renaissance…a medieval loan shark, if you will. When people couldn’t afford to pay him back, he forced them to hand over their land and anything else of value. Eventually, no one could afford even the basic necessities, no matter how hard they worked. Little by little, this tyrant took the kingdom right out from under the nose of the king himself.”
Joseph leaned forward. “But then he had a child and it changed him. No amount of gold could save his son from becoming the target of contempt and hatred as he grew up. He knew his son didn’t deserve to be held accountable for what he himself had done. So instead of forcing his will upon the people, he decided to keep the burden of hatred upon himself, while working tirelessly to make his son to be the complete opposite…someone who cared more about the people than his own wretched father had. The old miser secretly gave back to the very people who despised him through his son. He gave them gold to produce better crops, to build better homes, to help pay their taxes, and he even offered to pay for added guards to protect the kingdom. Eventually, when his son came of age, it was only natural that the people demanded his son to be named sheriff to help preserve their new way of life and keep the kingdom happy, content, and safe. Everything the old man did was for the sake of his son…just like your father did for you.”
“So, you want me to play both sides?” Christoff raised his eyebrows.
“Exactly.” Joseph beamed. “And after you’ve become the top benefactor to the city, maybe you’ll become the Mayor of Bloodburg.”
Christoff’s eyes lit up.
“But it will only work if you keep the city’s best interest in mind. The moment you take advantage of the people, they’ll rise against you. They won’t be able to stop themselves. It’s just human nature, and I’ve seen it happen many times before. Oh sure, they might let an outside force in to stop you, or even form their own organization, but eventually, everything will turn to shit. Believe me, your father learned that lesson the hard way,” Joseph pulled a worn playing card from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.
Christoff leaned forward and took the card, slowly turning over the bloodstained jack of clubs.
“I was to give that to you once I’d fulfilled my promise to help you take back the city. Now that I have, I hope you’ll see the value in it.”
Christoff’s face was white as a ghost. “I will…I promise. Thank you, Joseph.”
“Good!” Joseph smiled as a large steak was placed in front of him. “Now then, let’s spend our last night together the way we usually do…drinking in excess, telling stories, and then passing out. What do you say?”
Christoff laughed heartily as he stood. “Sounds like a plan! But we’re going to need something a bit stronger to drink.”
***
As Allie slowly opened her eyes, a surge of pain stabbed her head and neck. She carefully turned and looked around, finding Detective Sanders sleeping in a chair right next to her bed. “Hey,” she rasped.
“I’m here, Allison,” he jerked awake and leaned forward, offering her a cup of water. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he said calmly. “Joseph asked me to stay here and watch over the two of you for a while.”
Allie took a few sips of water and glanced over at Kevin, asleep in the bed next to hers. Several machines flashed and beeped, monitoring his vital signs, and a bag of clear fluid was pumped into his veins by the IV needle jammed into his bruised arm.
“How bad is it?” she asked, wincing.
Sanders sighed heavily. “The doctors said he’s in stable condition, but he’s got several bruised ribs and a puncture in his left lung.”
Allie’s eyes welled with tears. “Oh my God,” she sobbed. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t have insisted on going to a ridiculously fancy restaurant…” Her voice broke.
“What happened?” Sanders asked calmly.
“I don’t know,” Allie replied, slightly panicked. “One minute, we’re having the night of our lives, and the next, Palencio and his men were beating the hell out of him. There was nothing I could do,” she sobbed.
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened to Kevin.” the detective offered. “If Palencio was out to get him, it could’ve happened anywhere.”
“I know,” Allie said as tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. “But if it wasn’t for me, Palencio wouldn’t have been after him in the first place.”
“Why do you say that?”
Allie wiped her hands across her cheeks and took a deep breath. “Joseph was actually following me when he found out that Kevin and his brothers were going to rob the bank with Palencio’s men. Otherwise, Kevin would have never been involved in any of this.”
“Wait,” Sanders blurted. “I thought they stopped the robbery.”
“No. It was Joseph,” Allie admitted sheepishly. “He came in after the robbery had started. He used his powers to take out Palencio’s men and then convinced Kevin and his brothers to give up.”
“How?”
“By offering to pay for their father’s medical treatment. Kevin’s family can’t afford it…that’s the only reason they got involved with Palencio in the first place. They said they had no other way to get the money to save their father.”
“But everyone thinks they’re heroes! Even they believe it,” Sanders argued. “It doesn’t make any sense. I watched each of their interviews. The only one who remembered anything was the oldest brother who’d been shot. And I know he couldn’t have been lying, because he was hooked up to a polygraph the whole time.”
“That’s because Joseph erased everyone’s memory of what happened during the robbery…even mine,” Allie admitted. “Andy only recalls what Joseph wants him to remember.”
“So, he truly believes he foiled the robbery and has absolutely no memory of committing it?”
Allie nodded painfully. “That’s why Palencio was after Kevin and his brothers. He thought they backed out of the heist, killing two of his men in the process.”
“Okay, I get it now,” Sanders acknowledged. “But if Joseph erased your memory, how do you know all of this?”
“During the robbery, I had some sort of relapse. The next day, I started to remember everything…even the first time I’d met Joseph.”
“When was that?”
“Last Tuesday night,” Allie replied, embarrassed. “Some asshole tried to rape me and Joseph showed up and stopped him.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sanders offered compassionately. “Did they ever catch—”
“He’s dead,” Allie interrupted coldly. “Joseph offered him a way out, but the guy was too stupid to take it.”
“Is that why you’ve been working with him? You feel like you owe him for saving your life?”
“Sort of.” Allie shrugged. “I hoped that if I worked with him long enough, I might be able to convince him to start using his abilities for good. You know what I mean?”
“I’m starting to,” Sanders replied, forcing a smile. “Joseph wants me to try and work with Christoff to keep the city from spiraling out of control again, now that Palencio’s organization is out of the way. I told him I’d think about it, but I really don’t know what to do. That’s why I asked you. You seem to know Joseph better than anyone.”
“I don’t think anyone really knows him.” Allie sighed. “But I think he trusts you.”
“How can you be so sure?” Sanders asked skeptically.
Allie smiled. “Because you still remember who
he is. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Good point,” Sanders agreed, standing and stretching. “Okay. Two of my officers are sitting right outside the door. Try to get some rest. I’ll stop back first thing in the morning, okay?”
Allie nodded.
“Good night,” Detective Sanders said, backing out of the room.
When she knew Sanders was gone, Allie grabbed the hospital phone from her bedside table. Before she fell back to sleep, she needed to call her sister to explain what happened. She didn’t want Patience to hear about the restaurant fire on the news and panic when she couldn’t reach her.
-21-
When Allie opened her eyes, she glanced over at Kevin’s bed and was surprised to see him looking directly at her.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was hoarse and rough, but Allie heard sincerity that surprised and relieved her.
“Never mind me. How are you feeling?”
“Uhhh…numb?” Kevin laughed and grimaced. “It’s a little hard to breathe, but whatever is in here is definitely doing the trick,” he said, nodding to the hanging bag on his IV stand.
“Well, you’ve got a few broken ribs and a punctured lung,” she replied compassionately.
“What the hell happened, anyway?” Kevin asked, rubbing the side of his chest. “The nurse told me the restaurant burned down…some kind of gas explosion in the kitchen, or something?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, not really,” he answered, slowly shaking his head. “The last thing I remember was that we were having a great time…well…I was…I mean. Were you?”
Allie couldn’t help but smile at his awkward yet endearing nervousness. “Yes, Kevin. I was.”
“Good.” He sighed, relieved. “But the next time we go out, let’s pick a place that won’t blow up. Maybe a restaurant that only has salads and sandwiches. You know, nothing combustible.”
