by Hamel, B. B.
I pushed through the back door and into the kitchen.
“Morning, boss,” Luis said, looking up from prepping for lunch.
“Morning,” I grunted back.
Luis ran the kitchen and wasn’t involved in the shady part of my business. Like all my other workers, he probably had a pretty good idea about what went on, but I paid him well and he kept his mouth shut and did his job, which was exactly what I looked for in an employee.
I nodded to the other kitchen guys and pushed out into the main room.
“Morning, Liam,” Colin said.
“Morning,” I said, walking behind the bar and pouring myself a coffee.
Colin was my number two, although that didn’t mean much. I controlled a good-sized neighborhood near where my restaurant was located, which meant that I was tasked with selling the drugs, protecting the businesses, and extorting anyone who refused to pay. Sometimes we broke knees, and sometimes we just threatened. Overall, my territory was clean and easy, but mostly because I worked to keep it that way.
In terms of the overall Mob’s structure, I was middle management. Colin was one of many up-and-coming young guys, stepping into spaces left by the older generation that had either run off or been killed during the chaos of the past month. I didn’t know much about him, but he had come highly recommended. I had no clue how he had gotten the promotion to my second, but he was a decent worker.
And I didn’t trust him. Not one tiny bit.
Colin was about my height and strong. His dark hair was kept short, and he typically wore the same uniform of a button-down shirt and loose-fitting chino pants. He said he liked to look professional when he collected the take from the junkie dealers we employed.
Personally, I didn’t give a shit what he looked like. I was more worried about the knife he was inevitably going to try to slip into my back.
That was how you lived when you began to climb the ranks. One eye open all the time, even if you weren’t one of the top bosses.
I sat down at the bar, taking a sip of the coffee and letting the caffeine hit my veins. The hot, bitter taste felt great and woke me up. I looked over at Colin, and he was idly flipping through his smartphone.
“What’s on the menu?”
He shrugged. “Luis got something.”
I nodded and sipped my coffee.
“You seeing Brink today?”
Colin nodded. “Take goes up.”
“Bring Joey with you.”
He looked confused. “Why do I need Joey?”
“Just do it.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Brink was our local junkie dealer, and our go-to guy for picking up the week’s cash. Joey was one of my soldiers, though I didn’t know him all that well. From what I could tell, he wasn’t interested in fame or climbing the ranks: he just wanted to be made Right, to crack skulls, and to live honorably. Also, he wanted money and pussy, but who didn’t?
“Luis,” I yelled.
The kitchen door opened. “Yeah, boss?”
“What’s for breakfast?”
“Eggs and shit,” he said.
I gave him a look. “Scrambled, ketchup, hold the shit.”
“You got it.” He disappeared into the back. Colin chuckled and I sipped my coffee again.
That was our routine. I showed up early, I got some coffee, I went over the day’s jobs with Colin, and I ate. Normal, routine, like punching a clock, except dangerous. Way more dangerous.
As Luis returned with my food, Colin’s phone rang.
“Colin,” he said, answering.
I glanced at him and then did a double take. His face was white, and he looked terrified, like he had seen a vampire or something.
“Okay, hold on,” he said.
He stood and walked over to me, holding out his phone.
“Big boss wants to talk to you,” he said.
I gave him a look. “What’s with you?”
“It’s Boss Brennan. He wants to talk to you.”
I dropped my fork and grabbed the phone. No wonder the kid looked like he was about to shit himself. Colm Brennan was the head boss of the Irish Mob, at least ever since the chaos happened. When the old boss Michael disappeared, Colm began cutting throats and knocking skulls until there was a nominal peace and he was in charge.
The reality was, there was no peace, and Colm was hardly in charge. He was constantly fighting back the other heads that all felt like they should be in charge. Still, as the days went by, Colm was consolidating more and more power. It was really just a matter of time before he was the sole head of the Mob.
“Liam here,” I said.
“Liam, how are you?” came Colm’s voice.
Colm Brennan was a snake. He was an adder in the bush, a poisonous and aggressive, scaly creature. He was a few years older than me and had a reputation for ruthlessness even back before I had entered the ranks. He was the wunderkind of his day and was a mid-level boss by the time he was twenty. Even with my father’s connections, I didn’t make it to my position until I was twenty-six. He had done it six years faster than me, and without family help.
The problem with him was, Colm believed the Irish Mob was getting stale. He believed we needed to adapt to a more modern world, and he scorned many of our traditions. The Right People may have been thieves and murderers and scoundrels, but we had a code of honor that kept us from killing everyone around us. Mainly because of that, the police turned a blind eye to some of our smaller crimes, and the peace was maintained that way. Michael had been a bit more liberal than other bosses in terms of change, but Colm was practically a radical. He wanted to be rid of the honor code completely, and he wanted to remake the Mob into his own image of what a modern gang should look like.
I hated him. But I also helped him become boss.
“How are things, Colm?”
“Oh, well as can be expected. How’s the little brother?”
“He’s pretty good, thanks.”
“And your place?”
“Still turning a profit, actually.”
“That’s always nice to hear.”
“So what can I do for you, Colm?”
“Well, let’s not get into business over the phone. I’m on my way to see you.”
I blinked. Colm hadn’t visited my territory since he had become boss. Really, he had no reason to. Everything ran smoothly, and I kept my head down. If he was coming out to my place personally, that meant something big was going down.
Times were changing. I knew it was going to be a shit day.
“Looking forward to it,” I said.
“See you in twenty.”
He hung up, and I held the phone out to Colin.
“What’s happening?” he asked me, and I heard the fear in this voice.
“Boss is coming here. Go have Luis make some food.”
He nodded and walked fast into the kitchen.
I turned back to my meal, sipping my coffee and eating my eggs. I should have expected something, and I felt like an ass for not seeing it coming. In all my time with the Mob, I had never been asked to put a hit out, and I had never been tested. But suddenly, I’m taking care of some tweaker scumbag, with zero explanation.
Something big was coming. I could feel it.
“They’re here,” Colin said, peeking out the front window.
I gave him a look. “Sit down, you ass.”
He shrugged and returned to his seat. “It’s Colm with some muscle I’ve never seen.”
I nodded and turned back to my drink. “Go do your runs, Colin.”
“Why? I should be here for this.”
I gave him a look and didn’t answer.
“Fine. Call if you need me.”
He stood and walked into the kitchen, probably heading out the back. I watched him go, frowning. I knew he’d be a problem, but he was already starting to second-guess my orders. I’d have to take care of that sooner than I expected.
As I looked back, the front doo
r pushed open and Max walked in, followed closely by Dean. He nodded to me and I nodded back as they moved into the space. Dean was a bit shorter than Max, though by no means a small man. He had a long scar down his cheek, and the rumor was that he got it knife fighting his first kill back when he was a teenager.
Colm Brennan came in last. He was about my height, though a bit thinner, with dark hair slicked back along his skull, piercing blue eyes, crooked teeth, and a wicked grin. He flashed it at me as he entered, spreading his arms out.
“Liam, how’s my favorite boss doing?”
I stood and greeted him, returning his hug.
“I’m fine Colm, though your visit has me worried.”
He stood back, still grinning. “Nothing to be worried about.”
I gestured at a nearby table, and we took our seats across from each other.
“Can I get you anything? Food, drink, whatever?” I asked him.
“I’m fine, thanks.” He looked back at Max and Dean. “Boys, go check out the kitchen. Get something to eat if you want.”
They nodded and walked into the back room, pushing open the kitchen door. I was suddenly alone with the most powerful and dangerous man in the entire city, and I had to admit that I was feeling nervous.
“So, what can I do for you, Colm?” I asked.
“Getting down to business already?” he said softly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
“Won’t pretend like you visiting in person isn’t strange.”
He nodded. “We have a problem, Liam.”
There was a short pause as he stared at me, and I returned his gaze. With a man like Colm, no matter how on edge he seemed, you couldn’t show too much weakness. Deference and respect were necessary, but weakness was something else entirely. You needed to be able to show you followed his lead, but you could handle whatever he asked of you, no matter what.
“You know I respected your father, everyone did. He was a good man and a good boss. Smart, and ruthless when he had to be,” Colm said.
“Thanks for saying that. I appreciate it.”
He leaned forward. “But you’re not your father, Liam. You know that, right?”
I nodded, trying to keep my anger off my face, and said nothing.
“Good. You’ve been protected for a long time because of your father’s influence. True, you’ve been a damn good boss on your own, one of the best. But it’s time you started pulling your full weight.”
“What’s this about, Colm?”
He leaned back and smiled. “You did a good job the other night, hitting that junkie scum. I was proud of you.”
“Just following orders,” I grunted.
The mention of that guy sent chills down my spine, and I could feel sweat spring up along my chest. I struggled to keep the memory of his last breath from my mind.
“Of course, you always have.” He paused and looked down at the heavily lacquered table, running his fingers over its smooth top. “As you know, there has been a lot of shit lately in the gang. People fighting over scraps, making chaos. And chaos makes more chaos, all around us in waves. I don’t have to tell you how many bodies that’s making, and how big of a problem it is.”
I nodded, understanding. As soon as one minor boss was knocked down, two more stepped up to cause problems in his place, and the deaths were beginning to mount. Colm was barely clinging on to power, mainly through his willingness to cut the head off any snake that appeared. That meant his men were working overtime, trying to get rid of bodies, and there were only so many places to dump them.
“Do you need me to start helping out with disposal?” I asked.
“No. You have a more important job. Two days ago, I sent out two of my guys on a hit. Everything went smoothly, no problems, the fuckers are in their graves. But when they went to dump the bodies in the river, some bitch walking her dog saw them.”
I blinked, letting that settle in. If the civilian went to the cops about what she saw, the heat could make the entire chaos worse, and could potentially give the other bosses enough of an advantage to wrench Colm from power. He wouldn’t be able to handle both the police and his internal issues.
“You know how bad that would be if she talked, and so far it seems like she hasn’t. But we can’t take any chances, Liam. We need to make sure she stays quiet.”
I stared at him, shocked, as comprehension slid down my spine.
“You want me to kill her?”
He let the question hang between us, smiling.
I shook my head, at a complete loss for words. It was unprecedented; at least, it was unprecedented for the last fifty years. We didn’t kill civilians, period. That was part of what kept us alive. We had a code of honor, and that involved not murdering random strangers that were unlucky enough to come upon our business. We paid them off when we had to, and we dealt with the cops when we couldn’t. But we never, under any circumstances, murdered someone who wasn’t directly involved with our business.
“Colm, we don’t do that. I mean, we don’t just kill unlucky assholes who stumble on our shit.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I knew that’s what you’d say.”
“It’s the honor code, Colm. It’s what keeps us from getting the worst of the heat. We don’t kill innocent civilians, and the cops don’t care if a few junkies go missing from time to time. That’s how it works.”
He leaned forward again, pressing his palms flat on the tabletop, a wicked grin spreading over his face. His crooked teeth made him look like a monster as his eyes lit up, excitement rippling down his expression.
“Fuck the code and fuck the old ways.”
I blinked. “It keeps us safe.”
“You don’t get it, do you? The old ways are dead. They died out when the old bosses passed on. This is a new fucking world, with new cops and new officials and new shit to deal with.”
“You’re talking about murdering an innocent girl,” I said softly.
“I’m talking about survival,” he said viciously. “I’m talking about adapting to our new reality. We either change or we get rolled over.”
I stared at him, shock and dread mixing in my stomach, as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
“I can’t do it,” I said.
“We’ve been soft on you, Liam. We’ve been soft on you because of your father and your good work. But a new age is coming, and you’re one of the people I don’t trust. You kill this girl, you take care of our problem, and you’ve earned my respect and my gratitude.” He paused, staring at me. “You don’t do it and we’ll have a problem.”
I shook my head, at a complete loss for words. I could kill a junkie asshole, I could break kneecaps and beat down men who didn’t pay their loans. But I had never murdered a woman before, let alone someone completely unconnected to our business.
Colm stood. “Think about it. Make your decision by tonight. Max will stop by, and he’ll give you more instructions.”
I looked at him, my face hard. “And what if I refuse?”
He grinned and shook his head. “You’re smart. You won’t do that.”
Without another word, he walked off toward the back room, pushed open the kitchen door, and was gone.
I stared at his seat, my entire body tense with shock as the implications of that meeting rolled through my muscles and my gut. I was either going to murder an innocent girl or I was going to be cut out of the gang. I was either going to kill or be killed.
I gripped the edge of the table and worked my jaw.
I knew it was going to be a shit day.
Chapter Four: Ellie
It had been two days since the man in the park had chased me. Two days, and I hadn’t seen either of them since.
Two days was a long time to let your paranoia get the best of you.
At first, I pretended like I was fine. It was no big deal, probably all a misunderstanding; he didn’t mean me any harm, I was sure. But as the night wore on, I kept glancing at the front door, and I must hav
e checked to make sure the deadbolt was firmly shut at least ten times. I even caught myself glancing out the front window and had to force myself to stay out of the kitchen.
Work that first day helped keep my mind off the incident, but when I went home on my lunch break to take Petey for his walk, I found myself going an entirely new route. Petey loved it, of course, but I couldn’t help but feel a little insane. I was intentionally going out of my way on the off chance that those men were somewhere along my old route, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strangle me.
I knew it was crazy. The whole thing was crazy. Obsessing over every little possibility was crazy, and the guy actually chasing after me was crazy.
And I felt a little crazy.
By the end of the second day, though, the throbbing paranoia began to abate, if only slightly. I walked outside, stretching softly, looking out over the kids as they played with each other, jostled for spots on the bus, and climbed into their parents’ cars. I smiled softly, letting myself get lost in the din of the noise and commotion. It soothed me, the crowd, and I felt safe, even if I was the one in charge. There was something about the wild, frenetic energy of the kids that calmed me, or at least it calmed me when it wasn’t directed my way. It was a lot like white noise.
I glanced to my left while standing in the shade near the front door and saw Richie playing with his Gameboy. I smiled and walked over to him.
“Your brother coming for you, Richie?” I asked.
He didn’t look up. “Yes, Miss Boucher.”
I leaned my back up against the wall, standing next to him. Richie wasn’t a talkative kid, and I hadn’t had any more issues with him since the fight. It surprised me how quickly Richie went from passively taking the other kid’s bullying to attacking him viciously. It was like there was no middle ground for Richie, no moderate emotion he could cling to. He was either rational or he was animal. For the most part, Richie sat firmly in the rational, but he did have the capability to snap, and to jump to an entirely different personality.