by Kelsey Hodge
“Yes, Dad. That’s exactly what I plan to do.” My voice is loud and steady.
“You don’t have the stomach to kill me,” he says with a sneer. The proud man who had been talking to his son is gone, leaving the monster behind.
“That’s where you’re wrong, DAD.” I make sure to emphasize the name. “This has all been part of my plan from the start.”
“Your plan?” he asks. His voice betrays the confusion, and a small amount of fear appears.
Still holding the gun steady and pointing it at his head, I decide to tell him, “I came back to bring you down. You see, I’m gay, DAD. I always have been, and I’m in love with a wonderful man who, by the way, is a cop.” I see the color drain from his face, and he connects the dots.
“You won’t do it,” he says again.
“Still wrong, and do you know why you’re wrong?” I ask him. He shakes his head. “Because you wanted me dead!” I tell him. “Four months ago, I would never have been standing here, but then you organized a hit on your own son. I didn’t believe it at first. I hoped I was wrong, but then you handed me back my cell and confirmed everything. You signed your own death warrant.” Dad has gone completely white at this point, finally realizing I’m serious. I hit him with my final battle of words. “Dad, as you’ve always told me, ‘Never cross a Romano.’” There’s a look of shock on his face as I pull the trigger. My aim is accurate as always, with the bullet hitting him between the eyes, killing him instantly.
I place the gun back into the waistband of my pants and walk over to his desk. I thought I might feel pain, regret, or even remorse, but I feel relief with the undertones of happiness. The only concern is having to tell Mom what I did.
Taking out my cell, I quickly take photos of the orders and anything else I can find and send them to Wyatt, hoping they’ll be enough. Mom must have heard that shot and will come to investigate. Sure enough, not a moment after I send the photos, Mom comes into the study and screams when she sees Dad dead in his chair.
“What did you do, Lorenzo?” she asks, kneeling on the floor in front of Dad, holding his dead hand, almost willing him to wake. Knowing he won’t, that’s when the tears start.
“What I had to do,” I say simply, “to ensure my happiness and my safety.” I leave it at that, walking out of the room to call Frank.
“Do you have the number for the coroner?” I ask when Frank answers.
“Who died?” he asks, but I think he knows the answer already.
“Dad,” I say back.
He instantly asks, “Was it you?”
“Yes.”
I’m completely surprised he when he says, “Well done, I’m proud of you,” before he turns all business. He says he’ll text me the details before hanging up. I stare at the cell, with Frank’s words rolling around in my head. ‘Proud of me?’ Did he want Dad dead too? Before I have too much time to think about it, Mom appears behind me.
“I want you out of this house,” she says with nothing but hatred in her voice. “I never want to see you again.” I’m not surprised to hear that.
“I’ll be happy to go once I’ve taken care of Dad,” I reply with just as much hate.
I turn from her and make my way back downstairs to my bedroom. I’ve never had to make this phone call, so I have no idea what I need to say or what Dad typically pays. Taking a deep breath, I call the number that Frank texted me.
“Good evening, coroner’s office.”
“Good evening, this is Lorenzo Romano.” I hear a sharp intake of breath and a pause.
“Wait a minute,” he whispers, and I listen to what sounds like walking and a door opening and closing before a not too happy reply, “What can I do for you?”
“I need your services,” I tell him. “Alfredo Romano has been killed this evening. What did he normally pay you? This will be the last time,” For a moment, I swear I hear a whoop of joy.
“Finally,” he says. “This I’ll do for free. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. Call the family undertaker, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Then he whispers, “Thank you,” and hangs up. I’m thinking a lot of people wanted Dad dead, and I wish I could be surprised, but the sad thing is I’m not. Realizing I need the number for the undertakers, I call Frank again, but he beats me to it.
“I’ve called the undertaker. They said they might be a few hours. I’ve called your mother to let her know. Did you call the coroner?” he asks.
“Yeah, they said they would be in contact with the undertaker.”
“Everything is done. It would be better for you to stay in your room for now. Why don’t you pack up your things? Tomorrow, you can go home.”
I cannot help but smile at the thought. It’s over, it’s finally over, and I can go home. I pull out the boxes I used to bring my stuff over from the wardrobe and open them up. I spot the gun safe, realizing that my gun is still in my waistband. I remove it, make it safe, and place it inside. When I close the door, it honestly feels like part of my life is over. The chapter has finally closed, and I have nothing else but the future to look forward to. With a smile on my face and a lightness in my soul for the first time in a long time, I pack.
Chapter 30 - Wyatt
When my cell phone beeped a couple of hours ago, I hadn’t expected to see Lorenzo’s name come up with photos attached. This was the first time he had ever sent photos. I quickly opened them to see images of an order book. I sighed with relief because it meant that Lorenzo was finally getting somewhere. Hopefully, that would mean that this would all be over soon.
“Hey, Lorenzo sent me some pictures,” I tell Liam who is sitting opposite me with his head in a folder, doing research on something. “Looks like that he got access to the order book. Here, have a look.” I pass my cell to Liam.
“I wonder if we can tie in the orders to any increased drug activity. We might not be able to link it to Alfredo yet, but this will prove that drugs are coming in for an order.”
We spend the next few hours going over drug arrests, seeing if there has been an increase in drug overdoses. Nothing seems to stand out. Whoever deals with the drugs once they’re in the city is making sure the distribution isn’t altered to flag up on our radar. This information is good, but we need more to warrant the ship being searched again. Something that will implicate Alfredo, so we can get an arrest warrant.
“Do you fancy coming back to my place for a beer? It has been a real shitty night,” I ask Liam. I hope to take our minds off the fact we’re missing that final bit of information to link everything together.
Just as we walk to the door, I hear my cell beep again, letting me know I have another message. Lorenzo has sent more photos. When I pull up the image and see a text, I almost dismiss it. Lorenzo’s texts rarely contain anything substantial, but as I scan the photos of the texts, I see it’s talking about orders of roses, and the quantities they’re talking about are like the order book. I stop dead in my tracks and call to Liam.
“Hey, Lorenzo just sent more information. This could be what we’re looking for. Let’s get the coffee pot on and see what we have,” I say to Liam before adding, “I think this is important.”
We turn and head back to our desks, but Liam pulls up his chair next to me so we can look at the photos together.
“Sorry, Wyatt, but that looks like an order to the flower farm. Let’s call it a day and start again tomorrow,” Liam says, rising from the chair and pushing it back to his desk. I resign myself to the fact that he’s right. It’s a coincidence that the orders match. As I get up from my chair, something on the email catches my eye. I sit back down but don’t miss the eye roll Liam gives as he pulls his chair out to wait.
“Do you still have the contact information for the flower farm?” I ask him.
“Yeah, why?” he asks, pulling over a folder containing his notes.
“Do you have an example of their email address.” Something seems off about the address.
“Yeah, hang on.” He looks through the file an
d finds the piece of paper he has been looking for and hands it to me.
“The email addresses don’t match,” I say to him. I feel the tingle of excitement building within me.
“What?” Liam says. I hand him the phone with the image on the screen and the piece of paper he gave me. “You’re right, the crafty fuckers. This must be a drug order shipment. Good spot.” He hands me back the phone.
I fire up the computer on my desk and plug in the phone to download the image. Now I can print out a bigger version, hoping that when all the writing is clearer, we’ll be able to get some clues on the next shipment. Hopefully, the crates will contain the drugs. I grab the copy from the printer which thankfully is situated right behind my desk. I notice that the order was dated almost two weeks ago and has another sequence of numbers that may link to the containers and the crates inside. I don’t know what that sequence is.
“When we were looking into the ship, did we ever figure out how often it docks?” I ask Liam.
“About every two weeks. Why?”
“If I’m right, a shipment is due in…” I look at the calendar on my phone and try to work out the days since the order email. “…today.”
“Holy shit, we need to talk to the captain and show him the evidence. Fingers crossed, he can get the ship inspected,” Liam says.
Calling the captain at this time of night won’t go down well, but he said to keep him updated with developments. I decide to make the call, and after listening to him grumble for five minutes about disturbing him at home, he lets me talk. After explaining our discovery and thought process, he advises me to stay in the office and do more digging on Alfredo Romano. He’ll be in contact if he has organized the inspection. I hang up the phone and explain what the captain said.
We do as ordered and spend the next two hours looking into Alfredo Romano. All we confirm is what we know already. We’ve never looked too deeply into the ship and who owns the import business. It turns out that we should have looked there first. The owner comes up right away as Alfredo. It’s a legal company, and he’s used this front to import the drugs. He has been running a drug empire in broad daylight. We compile with all the evidence we have, hoping it will be enough for an arrest warrant. Having a witness statement will be the last piece of the puzzle, enough to finally bring down the Alfredo Romano empire. Soon after this, my cell phone rings. It’s the captain, who confirms that he has organized for the ship to be searched at six the following morning. This is when the ship is due to be docking. Liam and I are to be there with the information. Now, we’re to go home and get some rest. I hang up the call and tell Liam everything the captain told me. We look at each other, and I can tell we’re thinking the same. We’ve had the breakthrough we needed. We’ll finally bring this to an end, and Lorenzo will come home. I can’t help the smile on my face.
“It’s happening,” I say to Liam, and he agrees with a nod. “Let’s get home and rest. I wanna stay at my place tonight. We can head to the docks together in the morning.”
“Seems like a good idea,” Liam replies.
We finally head back to my place and have that beer we’ve wanted a few hours before and then head to bed. I spread out on the bed and pull Lorenzo’s pillow into my arms. I’ve been doing this every night since Lorenzo left. Tonight, I hug that pillow with a huge smile on my face, knowing that tonight could well be the last night of me doing this. Tomorrow night, I’ll come back to bed with Lorenzo. I plan to keep hold of him in my arms all night. This thought stays with me as I drift off to sleep.
Five thirty the following morning, we’re sitting on the dockside, waiting for the ship. I can feel the excitement between us. This is so different from the first time. We know we’ll find something, and I cannot explain the joy I feel. Knowing it’s me who will get to arrest Alfredo, especially after what he has done to Lorenzo. It also means that Lorenzo won’t have to kill his father and have that on his conscience. Right on time, we watch as the ship comes into the dock and then join the customs teams with the dogs. I show them the email and the sequence of numbers that I believe link to the containers and the crates. Thankfully, they can quickly work out which containers to search.
As we go up the gangplank, the captain waits to greet us, and he’s as calm as he was the first time we met; he doesn’t think we’ll find anything. He watches the teams go through the containers. They bring out individual crates and move them away from the cold refrigeration, so the dogs have a better chance of detecting the drugs in the right crates. Customs adds some that don’t have any drugs in them, then backs up what is found. Soon enough, the dogs identify the right crates. I then watch as the captain gets more and more agitated as he realizes we’ve gone straight to specific crates. With a nod from customs, I arrest the captain.
“Captain, you’re under arrest for the importing of a schedule one drug.” I bring his arms behind his back and read him his rights. As we walk towards the gangplank, it finally seems to register with him what will happen, and he panics.
“If I talk, can I strike a deal?” he asks, almost pleading with this
“That’s up to the district attorney and what information you give us,” I say to him, hoping this will be enough for him to give us a name
“I can give you the name of the boss, the person behind everything,” he replies fast, grasping at the piece of hope I’ve given him.
“You’ll have to agree to give evidence in court, if it gets that far. That’s the only way the district attorney will grant you anything,” I say. Even though we’re desperate for a name, he needs to understand what lies ahead, so he can’t back out in the future.
“Yeah, I will,” he says, and I know he’s telling us the truth
“Okay, we’ll take your statement back at the station. You can tell us everything then.” We walk him to our car and place him in the backseat and drive to the station.
Once at the station, we take the captain to one of the interview rooms on the second floor. The room is stark, with dark-grey walls, floor, and ceiling. It contains one table with a chair on each side. The only window in the room isn’t actually a window, but a one-way mirror, and Liam is currently on the other side, recording the conversation I’m about to have with the captain. It gives the room a very intimidating feel, and it’s the room that we often get the best results from.
“So, Captain, you wanted to talk. Now’s your chance,” I say to him, and the captain sings like a canary. “Do you know who organized any of the shipments?” I ask.
“Yeah, the owner is Alfredo Romano. Everything comes from him. The flower import was the legal cover,” he tells me.
The moment the words are out of his mouth, I want to jump into the air, fist pump, or fuck it, even dance around headquarters. We have him! We have the bastard, but then the captain continues and for a second, I feel my heart in my throat. Instinct tells me he’ll mention Lorenzo, so I give a very slight nod of the head, hoping Liam catches what I mean and stops recording.
“He has a son too. Lorenzo, who he’s grooming to take over,” the captain says.
At this piece of information, I smile at him and say, “Who do you think gave us the information we needed to search the ship?” I tell him and watch as the color drains from his face. I can tell he was hoping to use Lorenzo as the trump card to not only bring down the current boss, but the next generation too. I get him to write his statement, confirming everything he has told me, and he signs it at the bottom; it becomes a legal document.
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll make sure that the DA knows how helpful you’ve been.” With that, I leave the room and instruct the officer standing guard on the other side of the door to take him down to the cells. As I see Liam come out of the side room, I quickly ask him, “Did you stop the recording.”
“Yeah, had a feeling he would mention Lorenzo. The recording only goes up to the moment he mentions Alfredo’s name,” he replies.
“Thank God. Now let’s get the arrest warrant, so I can get my Lorenzo.” Ne
ither of us say anything more but rush to the office to find a judge who will grant an arrest warrant at this time of the morning. We cannot believe our luck when Judge Morgan comes up. I email him a signed affidavit explaining that we need to work fast before Alfredo realizes the ship has been searched and the drugs located. I’ll get the hard copy over to him immediately. The judge emails back shortly after looking at the affidavit and grants the warrant, thanks to the statement from the captain. I know it’s over, and it’s time to get my Lorenzo. I can’t wait to leave the precinct, and by the look on Liam’s face, he feels the same.
We’ve just gotten out of our chairs when Liam’s cell beeps with a message. I watch as the look on his face morphs into one of shock and if I’m not mistaken, relief too.
“What is it?” I ask, concerned that a text can cause this reaction. Then I hear my cell bleep, but I’m distracted from looking by Liam’s response.
“I got a text from Marco,” he says.
Oh fuck! He knows. “What’s it say?” Liam doesn’t say anything but hands me his cell.
>Dad died last night.
Four words that have changed everything. Lorenzo did it. He killed his dad and freed him and Marco. Even though I no longer have the satisfaction of arresting the bastard, I’ve never read four words that have given me such joy. It’s truly over, and Lorenzo and I can have the life that neither of us ever dreamed of having until that fateful day when I needed flowers. It’s only then that I remember the text I had. I pull out my cell and notice it’s from Lorenzo. My heart and soul sing with happiness at the five words he sends me.
>It’s over. I’m coming home.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
I wake up in bed and stretch out my hand, hoping to find the hard muscle of Wyatt’s body. Instead, all I feel is the cold bedsheets and an empty space where his body should be. My heart sinks as I realize I must have missed Wyatt going into work. One of my favorite things is to wake up in his arms in the morning. We’re generally naked, which results in sex or mutual blow jobs. On the mornings he must be in work early, I miss that. I miss the time with him. It’s like my soul is trying to make up for the three months we were apart.