For Blood and Beast: Tomas, For Blood (Garko Book 1)

by Gia P. Leonne

  My new life choices may seem contrary to the commitment involved in being a daughter of Ponti. However, It is plain to understand my end goals and the fundamental beliefs our family hold can coexist. I need a face-to-face talk with my mother to explain and convince her to follow me over to the dark side. If I all called first, it would provide her a chance to extract my intentions from over the phone and prepare the type of devastating counterattack, she is notoriously known for before I get there.

  I plan my unexpected visit will catch her unawares allowing me an advantage, possibly the shock of seeing her youngest daughter after a year's absence will trigger a mother's instinct. I know this is highly unlikely. However, the element of surprise is my best option for the news I'm about to drop at her feet. I have found a chance to secure both an eligible mate and a possible forever, forever kind of love— I needed a better description, but I'd wing it—

  I was sorry if she never experienced this type of connection with her partner, my dad. I had not figured out what came next. I believed I had a proper start.

  "Mama, good to see you." Air kiss right, air kiss left.

  "Evelyne, what a surprise to see you," hmm, not great to see me just surprised. Okay

  "It's been a year mama since we last saw each other. I thought it time to plan my next steps and all n person. Have you weigh in on some decisions I need to make."

  "No. Need to kiss me up, Evee." Her meaning is not lost in translation. Italian her first language.

  "No, mama, no need to kiss your ass, ever."

  "Sit, I'll get us some wine and nibbles."

  This was going better than expected. After ten excruciating minutes, she returned and poured the slowest glass of wine I'd ever seen anyone master, twice. I waited for her to drink but instead, she looked at her watch and spoke.

  "Evelyne, did you come here thinking to explain your disobedience away to me the birth mother. You have always been the thorn in my side. From the beginning, you wanted what you wanted. Fire, mama I want to see the fire. Three years old, a demon I told your father. Look at what we have spawned. I said call Father Ponti. He said no. Evee will be the bravest sweet girl. Hmmph, Bullshit!"

  A quick note here, if you think my eyes are fighting back tears, you'd be wrong. I have heard versions of the same, enough times, until my heart no longer acknowledges the sharp words she uses as darts. She's not finished.

  "Now, here you are, spoiled all over your face. Did you have an intimate relationship with an American convict? And before you fire up that big brain of yours to spin me a tale. Know this, I am this close, — she raises her forefinger and thumb to show me just how close— to slapping the shit from you. Be very fucking careful of what you say." She's been practicing American profanity slurs. Which suggests she knew it would come to this one day.

  She finishes, I lean back and take a deep breath.

  "Mama, sometimes there is more than one way to get to the same place." She contemplates this conundrum. Did I connect to a shard of sanity hiding inside, safely kept from her maniacal mind?

  The doorbell rings before I can continue, at once, I know.

  I take in a deep breath, but I do not exhale.

  The hospitality, the long time in the kitchen, the long wine pouring, the practiced speech, all tactics to stall and derail while waiting for her posse. Whoever is knocking, they are here for me.

  I let out that breath.

  And this time a tear does what it should not, it falls.

  Her betrayal, a hit straight to my heart, one I thought hardened to her bullshit. I do not have time for this shit. If our family is on the other side of that door, they can go fuck themselves. I make my way to the bathroom while she opens the door and I escape through the window.

  Shocked I see two people smoking on the opposite terrace. No one smokes here. I don't react immediately, but when I glance to the ground, and backward slightly they have jumped over the railing, coming my way. Confused, wondering how I underestimated the current threat growing in scale, I do not see the five cars converging towards the square. Who was I to my mother enemy number one? I want to stand my ground and show these bitches who I am. But my gut says I am missing some pertinent information relating to this situation. I run fast as my chucks can take me. My brain kicks into survival mode, I ignore the screaming of my lungs as I round the corner, dipping through an alley here and there. I need to up my Norda Trac training, but seriously I hate distance running. A tourist group excursion is up ahead, so I join them and borrow a hat hanging from a gentleman's bag to hide my face, my hair is another matter. I twist my long braid to hang down my back. Why would my mother do this? I needed that damn bike. If I double

  Someone screams, "he's got a gun." Shots crack through the air over the screams sounding like firecrackers, but there are no sparking beauties in the sky and they've seen the gun so they all trample over each other trying to escape.

  Who the fuck, is shooting at me amid tourists? This is as I feared, more than my mother and her entourage coming to exorcise the demon out of a fallen daughter. My best chance remains to return to the bike. I enter a restaurant, head straight for the kitchen, and ignore the 'get outta heres' in Italian, giving my, scusami, scusami, until I spot the back door. Out into the alley, I creep around large metal trash bins until I am sure I am clear. My mother's flat in view, I step out from a distant neighbor's stoop, toward the flat, when a large hand covers my mouth. "Let me g—"

  I never complete this as my body is lit on fire. Fucking taser, is my last thought before the world turns dark.

  CHAPTER 30

  The Ties That Bind

  Tomas

  Six-mil plastic lines the entire interior of Donny's vehicle. Smart he anticipates violence of the bloody kind. For so long, a La Familia Garko bloodline was the tie that binds for me. It did not matter, how it left me with emptiness and Moraes blood, I had to hide.

  The Ties that Bind sang by Celia's old man fetish,

  heartthrob as a girl, The Boss, Springsteen-- not Garko.

  Of course, I let her know— I was the only Boss.

  You're so afraid of being somebody's fool

  I would rather feel the hurt inside, yes

  I would darling

  Then know the emptiness your heart must

  hide

  Who'll ease the sadness, who's gonna

  quiet your pain

  It's a long dark highway and a thin

  white line

  Were runnin' now but darlin' we will

  stand in time

  To face the ties that bind.

  She sang this song back then. Said it was her mother's favorite, so she loved it the same.

  Afterward… after she was murdered, the song spoke to my soul as it asked, why I would continue to do what I did. Why I would ride along with lost unfaithful men to do a thing?

  Blood… the tie that binds.

  When you have everything to lose. And only recently, decades later has something conjured the song.

  Peace... Given to me by another girl.

  Tonight, my mind is clear, all fear of betrayal is silenced, and any emptiness from loss is eased. Tonight, I know why I do what I do.

  Why I ride with these determined men to do a thing.

  Blood… Not always shared but honored all

  the same.

  The tie that will bind, us, as it has been so… each time the Boys and I have ridden out together to do a thing is the honor in Family.

  And we will leave tonight five loyal men

  further forged into a unit… the origin of a new La Familia.

  Because we have everything to gain.

  Sylvester and Tannerio, my Boys, unaware for years how I intervened in their lives, and yes, I said Tannerio— Tank he is a big as a Tank but Tannerio, come on. His ma told him it's a family name… he has yet to notice a similarly named person in his lineage. Initially, I sought them out to aid Donatello. As my replacement, I guess. But fate had a different plan for all of our lives.
Each of them I chose because I saw they wore the honorable La Familia values like a trident shield. Even when they believed no one was looking.

  Prospects

  Stability

  Honor and Loyalty

  God knows Donatello needed men with all three to make it through his troubles. My interviewing process, somewhat unorthodox began with feelers to find their revenue streams. Neither were millionaires on paper; however, La Familia's system is built to keep any possible usurpers prospects manageable. A system these three have learned to skate around without causing notice. Yet they present La Familia a fair share.

  Each owns diverse income avenues. That's smart—

  Prospects… affirmative.

  Then I waited… had their finances tracked over time. In the interim, my plans changed, and I made the call. Enter the system on my call, to protect me—

  Loyalty… Affirmative.

  Family members stepped up immediately handling the extra load and prospects advanced uninterrupted so did revenue—

  Stability… Affirmative.

  "Boys, Are you ready for the day"

  The name I don't know if they like it, maybe I don't care. They are all in their late twenties four-plus years my junior.

  The vehicle slows, as an old brick building appears. It stands alone for miles out here in nowhere land. I get a chill. Its windows long gone are boarded up with cheap OSB. The red, or rusted metal door bothers me, am I going fucking crazy? Yes, I am as a flashback of Donny coming out of the same door once before...

  "This place... I recognize it. We've been here before?"

  "Yeah."

  I wait. He says nothing.

  "Yeah? And what, Stronzo?"

  "And nothing, you've been here before."

  He drops it there, going on to explain every entry and exit, covered by his security team of snipers. Where he has acquired snipers from I don't ask. On the ground, his men have been inside the building for two days. Asshole doesn't want me to remember something I've forgotten. I trust him with my life. So, I let it go, just like the snipers.

  "Are you ready for the day?" He asks.

  "Ready."

  The Kanun has arrived with deep pockets.

  Twenty Kanun, my earpiece reports, eight inside, three standing outside the building, and the rest in three vehicles parked two miles away.

  "My sources report you think me untrustworthy,"

  I say to the man who believes he is in charge. I've already found the head man of this Kanun. The planner, the moves maker and he's allowing this clown to posture himself as the leader.

  "Untrustworthy, no. Unpredictable is why we prepare. You have news for us."

  "Yes. However, I am going to need you to back off some of the men outside. You've created something of a spectacle with your gunned armory loitering an abandoned rundown meat packaging warehouse."

  He looks at my chosen Kanun leader and nods.

  "Okay, now can we discuss why we came?"

  "Yes, of course. You want information on my plans. So, you may then negotiate territory hoping to placate me into peace.

  A relationship of sorts between equals, hmm?"

  He doesn't get it, but he nods and smiles.

  The Kanun I should be talking with has taken a couple of steps back towards the nearest exit. Smart man.

  "You're DNA is an abomination. Your blood will taint my territory soon. I hate your essence will provide it nourishment as it drinks your cells into its roots to feed flowers and weeds. Because I want you erased."

  He rises in anger.

  "Bitch, sit down."

  As he turns to signal instructions, he sees all but four now stand behind my chosen Kanun. Four have chosen wisely. Defeated he sits.

  "New York is mine. You—I point-- are a trespasser." The pretender sits three feet from me yet my eyes are on the Kanun at the door. I'm talking directly to him.

  "There is no negotiating with usurpers about my people, my streets, my heritage. There are more lucrative opportunities to explore, elsewhere. Royalty is expected. Sending anything less will result in war. I have nothing to lose. Retaliation for any of the actions here will result in war. No Kanun, No Blood must pay with Blood." He appears surprised I know this general knowledge. When I return my gaze to the man across the table it's only for a short recognition and question for the Kanun at the door. Do I take care of him for you? I check the door and let Donny know the meeting is over.

  "Over ... But we didn't decide..."

  The door closes before he finishes his clueless remark. I yank him across the table and snap his neck. Simultaneously

  Donny shoots dumb fuck friend number one, Sylver knifes dumb fuck friend number two and Tank shoots his dumb fuck friend number three— point-blank in the head.

  Blood splatters and parts of his brain travels spilling down over us.

  "What the fuck," Donny screams.

  "Shit, I pulled the wrong gun." Tank

  wipes his face off. He looks like prom Carrie. Sylver grins. Somehow, he stays the only one of us clean.

  Checking my phone again for any missed calls makes me uneasy, a new emotion or an old one resurfaced— fear chasing anxiousness.

  "It's only been two hours, they'll call."

  I nod my head and allow Donny to believe I'm checking my phone for Grigor's anticipated call. Fucking Evee, why in the hell is she not responding to my texts. She is a texting demon, usually responding three times to my one text. It's been three days since she left for Italy to see her mom. She seemed anxious; flicking that lighter of hers constantly, I snatched it away. She just politely pulled out another from who knows where. Women and their mothers, I guess, the relationships are sometimes

  strange.

  "Hello, yeah. Hold on I'll get him."

  "Hello,"

  "Tomas this is Grigor Dulaka. First and foremost, I want to provide you much respect, and keep you satisfied with the business arrangements." His English is slightly off yet his diction is of a learned man, not a thug, this is important.

  "Of course. We appreciate you reaching out to us sooner opposed to later. Our day was not good. Your call to fix the situation means a lot."

  "We have a barrier, New York. We cannot accept your claim until we receive a better offer elsewhere. Hey?" He is lying he doesn't have any say at the shit going down at the Port of New York and New Jersey, only his city thugs do he control. I do not respond. To do so, would end this very important conversation. Soon enough he goes on.

  "We understood you were once Familia King. Italian ... American Italian, your power coming from New York, Italy,

  Sicily, where we already have, very good, old roots, and fruitful crops

  growing. You understand."

  "I've never, not understood. You are the

  one who overlooks my importance to the expansion of your businesses abroad."

  "I like you talk about the straightway. No fuckin' bullshit, hey. Again, we are looking to make a new arrangement with you. You have much family. Not just white, but the brown ones, like your mama. They can make our relationship stronger."

  This motherfucker.

  "This can only be a joint venture.

  Ernesto, Moraes, and American players must play their part. Only by merging, can we bring about a brighter day. Understand?"

  "Yes, I am very intrigued by your

  suggestions. I want to make money. One thing we did not get wrong, you, my new friend, you are a money maker."

  "Your mother's home has the most handsome of all women with small waists and the tightest cunts. The beach and the house sitting inside the mountain are magnificent."

  "You are absolutely correct. You have

  turned an unsatisfactory day better. I will send your invitation through a special courier. Four days of entertainment is agreeable for your schedule?

  "Speak of things, people schedules, I would remain as far away from the planned Seminar, as possible. Let us say it will not bode well for our collaboration if one of u
s does not breathe. Goodbye, Mr. Garko."

  "Goodbye for now Grigor."

  "What the fuck? Did he just say what I think he said, and what the fuck? They're planning to kill you again? and for what ... Donny was going ballistic.

  "Are you fucking high on something, calm the fuck down."

  "Did you not hear what I just heard? If it's true why would they ...."

  I'd said nothing. I knew exactly why they would, and exactly why they should if they knew what was good for them and their old ways.

  Donny had calmed down enough, to read the thoughts evident by my facial expression, probably the condescending smirk, or was it the evil glare of a master.

  "What am I missing?"

  "Donatello, we need to talk."

  "Ugh, Boss, me and Sylver can make it from here. Don stop the car."

  Tank, my faithful...

  "That will not be necessary Antonio."

  "You stoic motherfucker, are you offing us or some shit. You're bigger than me but I'll wrap this hunk a metal so far around a tree, nobody's making it out. Not even the mob boss with nine lives." Donny laughed maniacally. He was high. fuck, we needed to take care of that shit.

  "Pull the fuck over, NOW! Donatello." This was not how or where I'd planned to relay my plans to the men I trusted with my life. And yes, I still trusted Donny with my life. the damaged bastard. He pulled off the next highway exit until he found a neighborhood.

  CHAPTER 31

  High Expectations

  Tomas

  "I haven't seen a fucking see-saw in, shit, since I was small enough to play on one."

  "You were never that small."