by Pete, Eric
He led me over to the bed and helped me sit down. “This world is so crazy. Nowhere is safe anymore.” He was saying the right things, but it sounded so mechanical, so cold.
“They took her and shot my security in cold blood.” I looked deep into his eyes as I asked, “What kind of people do this?”
He looked away quickly and answered, “Animals, only animals.... Maybe they’re after a ransom or something.”
“That’s what the police said, but no one has called about a ransom yet.”
The color drained from his olive skin. “Police? You called the police?”
I felt it in the pit of my stomach; my instincts had been right. There was only one reason Tony would be concerned about the police being involved.
“Oh, Tony. Just hold me, please,” I said, though the last thing I wanted was to feel this man’s arms around me now. I just needed to check one thing to confirm what my intuition was already telling me.
As he leaned in close, I placed my hands on his back and felt it: a bandage on his back, in the same spot where I’d stabbed my attacker with a pen. Ever since the shock of the attack had subsided a bit, I’d had this nagging feeling that I knew the voice of my attacker. At first my brain—or maybe it was my heart—wouldn’t allow me to acknowledge the painful truth that it was Tony’s voice. I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but feeling this bandage now, I had the proof I needed.
Tony pulled back a little when he felt my hand on the bandage. As our eyes met, a sinister grin passed over his face.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“You ...
His hands were on me in an instant, throwing me around like a rag doll. I tried to fight back, but he effortlessly pinned me on my stomach, yanked up my skirt, and tore off my panties.
“No,” I gasped as he plunged into me violently.
“Shhh. Relax. I just want to take away your pain,” he hissed into my ear as he rammed himself into me over and over again. The weight of his body made it hard to breathe. I lay there, crying silently, as he tore me apart. It wasn’t long before he finished his business and got up off me. He pulled up his pants without even cleaning himself.
“I hate you, you son of a bitch!” I yelled as I jumped off the bed and yanked my skirt back down.
He laughed. “You have no idea how much you’re gonna hate me. Now, get your black ass outta here.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes and left without another word to Tony. I would get payback later. Right now I had only one thing on my mind—getting Mariah back.
“Was it him?” Junior sat up in the backseat when I got into the car.
After my call with Tony, I’d gone back in the house and admitted everything to Junior. It was humiliating to have to admit my affair to him, but I would do whatever it took to get Mariah back home safely. Shoot, I’d publish my shame in the newspaper if I thought it would help. Junior didn’t pass judgment. He didn’t curse me out; he didn’t ask me how I could have been so stupid. Maybe that would all come later, but for the time being, he was focused only on his niece.
“It was him,” I answered. “That motherfucker has my baby.”
We watched as Tony rushed out of the motel room and into a black Cadillac. He was on his cell phone. It looked like he was having a heated discussion with someone.
“I remember him from our meeting at the dealership,” my big brother said. “He’s definitely Sal Dash’s big-mouth son.”
“Well, I plan on shutting it. When I get my baby back, Junior, I want him to die, and I want him to know it was me who ordered his death.”
Junior leaned back and watched as the black Cadillac exited the parking lot, recording every detail about his new target.
LC
54
“Why didn’t somebody tell me about Mariah?” I asked my wife when Orlando and I returned to my near-empty house. When we should have been a tight, cohesive unit, everybody was out pursuing their own agendas. That was why we were so easily manipulated by Dash. Our selfishness was our weakness. It was time for us to stop acting on emotion and start strategizing as a family. Order had to be restored.
“We didn’t want to upset you, dear. You know, the same way you didn’t want to upset me by telling me you sent Rio out to L.A. to get his head blown off.” Chippy’s hands were trembling as she cast an accusing eye at me. I had no defense for my bad decision, so I just let her comment hang in the air between us.
She was looking worn down. The stress of everything that had gone on lately was obviously taking a toll on her. Then again, I hadn’t looked in the mirror lately. She could probably say the same thing about me.
“She’s my granddaughter, Chippy! I had a right to know. I could have done something.”
“Not while you were negotiating with Alejandro, you couldn’t. You’re her grandfather, LC, not her parent. Her mother made the right decision not to tell you right away, and I stand behind her.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Has everyone lost their mind around here?”
“Pop, please. You and I both know we need to stay focused to get Mariah back. We can’t be losing our cool,” Orlando said. So noble of him to finally be getting his head in the game. I was beginning to rethink my decision of handing the family business to him.
“That’s just it, Orlando. Nobody’s been focused. Paris killed that boy Miguel when I expressly told her to leave him alone. Then you send her out to L.A. without my knowledge, putting both her and Rio at risk. Harris and London are God knows where, when they need to be right here, together, waiting on either the police or the kidnappers to call. Together,” I stressed as I motioned at our empty abode. “And you,” I said, pointing at him. “You’ve been disappearing at times when we needed you most. Seems the only dependable one is Junior, and he isn’t even ...”
“What? Junior isn’t what?” Orlando asked.
“Junior isn’t even the one I chose to lead this family,” I replied quickly, turning the conversation back to him. “But you haven’t been yourself lately. Not answering calls when people try to reach you, disappearing to who knows where. What exactly have you been doing all this time?”
“Well, for starters, I’ve been starting my own family. I’m going to be a father,” he said, dropping another overwhelming revelation at my feet.
“Oh my goodness!” Chippy looked stunned, but equally elated. “Who is she? Do I know her?”
“I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.” I offered my hand, but I was skeptical. “Why didn’t you bring her around?”
“Because it was my business alone,” Orlando replied with a bit more attitude than I was used to from him. “But with someone taking my niece, that changes everything. I’ve sent some of our people to watch over her.”
“Orlando, if this woman is having my grandchild, I need to meet her,” Chippy started, but I put an end to it before she launched into an interrogation.
“We’ll have time for this later,” I told her, then turned to Orlando. “But when things calm down, your mother and I would like to meet this woman.”
“Hey.” We all turned at the sound of Harris’s voice. He entered the room, looking like death warmed over. He’d obviously been crying. “Any news? Have they called?” he asked.
I hated to have to tell him no. “Nothing yet, but we’re pretty sure the Italians are behind it.”
He flinched, as if he’d been punched in the gut.
“Don’t worry, son. We’re going to get her back,” I said.
“How do you know it’s not the Mexicans that took my daughter and almost killed my wife?” Harris asked, his voice sounding hollow and weak.
Orlando explained, “It’s all been a setup. We got verification that the Mexicans had nothing to do with any of it. It was Sal Dash and those scumbag sons of his—all of it.”
Again, a look passed over Harris’s face that I couldn’t quite read. His daughter was missing, but there was something else on his mind too.
I asked him, “Have
you talked to Dash like I asked you?”
He didn’t even look up from the floor when he answered. “No, they haven’t returned my calls.”
“Goddamn cowards!” I exploded. “They’re using my granddaughter as a shield. They must know that we’re onto them, that Alejandro and I have called a truce.”
“Thank God for that,” Orlando uttered. “Rio and Paris are alive. They’re both coming home, and so is Mariah. You got my word on that.”
“I just want my baby girl back,” Harris said as he collapsed into a chair. “I can’t lose her. I won’t. Not for anything.” Behind the sad look in his eyes, there was something else going on. His teeth were clenched, and the muscles in his neck were tense. Was I sensing anger?
Something about the way he wouldn’t look me in the eye had my radar up.
As I was trying to figure out why Harris’s energy was off, London arrived home with Junior. Harris rushed toward her.
“Where the hell have you been? You do know our daughter has been kidnapped, don’t you?”
“We were following Dash’s boy,” Junior growled in response for his sister.
We were all surprised, but Harris’s reaction was over the top. He seemed downright panicked. “Who?” He wasn’t looking to Junior for answers. He was looking directly at London. “And how did you find him to follow?”
“That prick motherfucker, Dash’s son. The one who was disrespectful when we met at the dealership,” Junior stated, answering Harris’s first question only. Those of us who had been there knew exactly who Junior meant. He and London exchanged a glance.
“You know ... ,” Orlando said, turning to Harris, “you arranged the meeting with Sal and Pop. The one where he convinced us the Mexicans were gunning for us. The Italians came to you to set it up.”
“You accusing me of something, you insecure little fuck?” Harris got in Orlando’s face, looking ready to fight. “My daughter is out there somewhere, all alone, and you want to take this time to score points? I’ve about had it with you.”
My family was self-destructing before my eyes. Dash would be laughing his ass off if he could see it.
Junior slid away from his sister, heading toward Orlando and Harris as their words got louder and hands were clenched into fists. Chippy broke down in tears and began flailing her arms for them to stop making fools of themselves. A security guard stuck his head inside the door to check on things. When he saw it was a family matter, he quickly retreated.
I was just about to raise my voice, but London beat me to it.
“Stop it! Stop it!” she shouted over the din. “It’s not Harris’s fault. It’s mine.”
Fists were lowered. Mouths at full bore suddenly fell silent. A pall fell over the room as all eyes fixed on my eldest daughter.
“This isn’t your fault, baby. You couldn’t have known they were going to kidnap Mariah,” I assured her.
“No, but I know the person who did it,” she said with her head lowered. “I’m the reason they have Mariah. It’s my fault. I know Dash’s son Tony.”
“How... do ... you... know him?” Harris asked with deadly calm.
London didn’t answer. She just looked down at the floor in shame, giving us all the answer she didn’t want to speak. My daughter had been sleeping with the enemy.
Harris
55
My in-laws usually saw me as a rational man who sought answers through logic rather than violence. Unfortunately, when it registered in my mind that London was sleeping with Tony, I was incapable of rational thought. All I could see was Tony Dash taking what belonged to me. First, he’d taken my wife, and now he had my daughter. No wonder Vinnie was always smiling and laughing in my face when we met. He had a secret. Vinnie, his brother Tony, and their father, Sal, had their own private joke at my expense—and it was all London’s fucking fault.
I have no memory of how I got across the room, but before I knew it, I’d grabbed London by the shoulders and was shaking her violently.
My mother-in-law screamed first.
London didn’t fight back. She just stared at me with a blank look as I yelled in her face, supremely hurt and betrayed. Orlando and LC were yelling something, but I didn’t hear them. I didn’t really hear myself, either. I was in a rage. It was like I was out of my body, staring down a dark tunnel. Events unfolded over which I had no control. Everything seemed to be happening all at once.
Orlando was trying to pull me off. Junior brought his large arm between London and me, forming a wedge that he used to pry me away. I fell backward as my feet became entangled with Orlando’s legs. The two of us hit the floor, and something came tumbling out of my coat pocket with a dull thud.
Someone yelled, “Gun!” and the entire house went silent, except for the security guards running in, weapons drawn.
Junior came over and casually picked up the gun, holding it up to the light for inspection.
“Hmm. This yours, Harris?” he asked me. Of course he knew it was.
“Um, yeah,” I said, coming up to one knee. I wasn’t sure if my brother-in-law was going to allow me to take another step, so I stayed put.
“What are you doin’ with a gun, Harris?” Junior probed further, trying to hold back an amused grin. I was never one to carry a firearm, and they all knew it. I fought my battles with words and the law, not with bullets. When I needed that type of help, I went to them.
“Serial number’s been filed off,” Junior announced, no longer sounding so amused.
“You planning on shooting someone?” Orlando asked.
I had to think fast. “Someone took my daughter. When I catch up with them, I plan on putting a bullet in their head personally.”
“Where’d you get it?” LC asked.
“On the street,” I answered honestly, hoping that would be the last of the questions.
LC nodded to Junior, giving him permission to hand it back to me. Junior removed the bullets, then handed it over.
“This is a piece of shit,” he said. “No accuracy from over a few feet. When you’re ready for a real gun, ask us for one.”
He handed it back to me pistol grip first—the same way Sal Dash’s man had handed it to me a mere hour ago. I hated having it in my hands. I had always avoided guns like the plague. They reminded me too much of my father’s life, a life I’d spent my whole youth vowing never to emulate. And now here I was, married into a crime family, with the Mob holding my daughter hostage. If Junior had left the bullets in, I might have used the damn thing on myself right about now.
Instead, I stowed it once again in my coat pocket and stood up. I came at London more calmly this time. Her brothers stood by her side, in case I erupted again.
“You said you’ve been... following Tony?” I asked, avoiding the question I really wanted answered, which was, how long had she been fucking this mobster? That discussion would have to wait until we had Mariah back. After that, I had no idea if we’d be able to salvage our marriage, or if I’d even want to.
London didn’t speak. She looked to Junior, who answered for her.
“I got my boys on him now. Been following him since—” He stopped, and a glance passed between him and my cheating wife. London’s eyes welled with tears, but I felt not an ounce of sympathy for her.
“Now that we know who we’re lookin’ for, we’ll probably find our shipment too,” Orlando commented.
“Fuck the drugs. I know they’re important to you guys and whatnot, but I want my daughter. That’s all,” I said, reminding them where my priorities lay and where theirs should be as well.
“Oh yeah, we’re gonna get her back,” Junior assured me. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Then we need to get moving,” Orlando said. “’Cause if none of us have heard from them, that’s not a good thing.”
“True,” LC said. “I’ll contact Dash. Try to see what his game is. In the meantime, Junior, you stay on Tony. We’re going to get Mariah back. Alive. Then we take them motherfuckers down, bu
t we have to do it together, as a unit.”
Junior nodded. “Don’t worry. We got this, Pop.”
“I’m going to help Junior,” London said, finally joining in the discussion.
“No. You’re not doing this. I forbid it,” I said.
“You don’t get that choice anymore,” she shot back. “Not when it comes to my daughter. I need to be there when we find her. I failed her once. Not again.” She looked so worn down, so damaged, and for a minute I realized that she had been there to witness Mariah’s terror during the kidnapping. She would live with that guilt forever. It almost made me pity London. I almost wanted to reach out and comfort her, but then I remembered that none of this would have happened if she hadn’t been a cheating whore.
Lucky for London, her mother still cared about her feelings. “Baby,” Chippy said, reaching out for London’s hand, “maybe you should stay out of this. You’ve already been through too much.”
“No, Momma,” my wife said. “Paris is not here. They... they need me. Mariah needs me. My family needs me.”
“Very well,” LC said, putting an end to the discussion and granting London the opportunity to atone.
He turned to Orlando. “I want you to make arrangements to get Rio and Paris back here to the house, safe. After that, I’ll need you somewhere coordinating things. Reach out to some of our friends. See if they can give us a hand with this. Although I didn’t like you going behind my back, in the end, you did good sending Paris to L.A. Now I guess we’ll get to see what you can do in this situation.”
Orlando stared at his father for a moment, processing the respect LC had just paid him. Then he nodded.
I was the only one left without an assignment—other than the one I’d received from Sal Dash. “What about me?” I asked LC.
“You’re my right-hand man, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Then stay by my side. I’ll have you there with me when I meet with Dash. It’ll show him I didn’t come to wage war.”
“’Cause we’ll be busy doing that,” Junior said.