“Who did you lose?” I asked him, taking a sip of my coffee. His words didn’t bother me.
“You don’t give a damn.”
“Nope, not at all.” I smiled. “You see, you’re blaming me for something that isn’t my fault. Do you blame a bartender for giving someone a drink? No, because he is supplying a demand. No one is forcing anyone to do or take anything. Whoever died, it was on them and their family. They should have gotten their shit together. Their family should have stood by them. Instead, you look for someone to blame.”
“You must be fucked up in the head to think like that. There ain’t any justification for what you people do,” he snapped, looking away. “You insult us more by pretending you’re good Catholic folk. You don’t care about God. I don’t think you even believe in Him.”
“I do. I care about God, and I do believe in Him.” I really did. “However, I know why I was created. God needs me. What would happen if there weren’t people like me? If the world were perfect, if everything was the way you wished it to be, then why would you pray? God needs me, because without us, you forget about Him. He is on my side, not yours.”
“We will see about that. The commissioner has his eye on you all. He won’t rest until you are all in jail!”
“Then I’ll rip out his eyes and put him six feet under. You should thank God you are in here, because after tomorrow, Chicago will never be the same. You can tell the commissioner I said that,” I replied, leaving the coffee cup with my lipstick imprint on the counter before turning to leave.
“By the way, I sleep perfectly fine at night. It’s all about the thread count.”
I smiled at him once more before leaving. Chicago would burn, and they would know it was their fault. Once the smoke cleared and the dust settled, we would rebuild. But we would own this motherfucking city.
Stepping into the corner, I placed a call.
“Put Officer Pope and his family on the list.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
TWENTY-THREE
“Courage is the power to let go of the familiar.”
~ Raymond Lindquist
SEDRIC
“I believe your son and his wife just dismissed me.” My nose flared as I clutched onto the phone in my hands.
“Why is it whenever they do something wrong, they magically become ‘mine’?” my wife asked as she dressed.
“Because . . .”
“Choose your words carefully, dear.”
Walking up behind her, I grabbed her waist pulling her to me. “I ruled once. I was king, and yet my own children are dismissing me as if I were a butler. When did I fall so far?”
She laughed, turning back to me. “My dear, you were king, and when you were, no one could speak a word to you. Your word was law, and those around you listened. Neither your sons nor I could talk you out of anything you wished. But you gave up your crown because it no longer fit. In doing so, you agreed to allow Liam and Mel to rule as they wished.”
“They may bloody well destroy this family.” I pouted as she kissed me.
“Then let them. We have more than enough independently to leave and never be found if we wish. However, you and I both know they aren’t destroying this family.” She was right, but I didn’t like it.
“I just wish they would—”
“No. You promised me you would only get involved if they asked. They haven’t, so stay the fuck out of it. You have done your part. I just want my husband.”
Staring into her eyes, I nodded before grabbing hold of her shirt and ripping it from her body. Buttons popped off her like bullets.
“Then have him, because he definitely wants you,” I whispered before ripping her bra off her as well. Her breasts jiggled free, and I smirked to myself before taking them into my mouth.
She moaned my name, and the last thing on my mind was my children, or their chaos.
TWENTY-FOUR
“We don’t murder, we kill . . .
You don’t murder animals, you kill them.”
~ Samuel Fuller
MELODY
Flipping on the television, I couldn’t help but grin.
“Three weeks ago, Commissioner Patterson, you stood before us all and promised to make this city safe! You promised that you would put an end to the blood and corruption, but instead, all you have done is made it worse! For three weeks, it has been raining blood! The death count is up to twenty-seven that we know of. Most of them innocent people who just want to live their lives in peace. People are dying left and right! You did this!” A man yelled out in the crowd.
“My son was walking home for school. He walked that same path every day and then . . .” A mother sobbed with a photo of her son in her hands.
“Twenty-seven in the suburbs, fifty-four in the city, two a day in the most poverty stricken parts of the city. Commissioner Patterson, is this the new normal?” a reporter asked.
Commissioner Patterson looked old, tired, and stressed as he tried to find the words.
“The Chicago Police Department is . . .”
“The Chicago Police Department is no safer than we are! How many men and woman have we lost in the last three weeks?”
“We have lost at total of nineteen men in the line of duty.” Commissioner Patterson sighed. I could feel the defeat coming through the screen.
“How can you keep us safe, if you can’t even keep your own people safe?”
“Is the FBI going to get involved?”
“Nope,” I said aloud and even if they did I had more than a few friends I could call on.
“Each one of these instances has been at the hands of multiple criminals, leaving them up to the Chicago Police Department to solve. However, they will be consulting on many of the cases involved.” The Commissioner stood firm.
“Will the Governor call for a state emergency?”
“Not if he wants to lose his next election.” I’m sure he was a friend of the families, Coraline held a function for him.
“We are not at that point yet. I understand how frightened you all are, but please don’t lose faith in us. It is what the people who are responsible for this all want.”
“Do you know who is responsible? Some have speculated this is because of the Irish Mob, others say there was a breakout at the county jail.”
I wanted to listen to his reply. However, I was distracted by the man kissing my neck from behind. Leaning into him, I allowed myself to relax.
“Keeping an eye on our city?” he whispered when he came up for air. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me closer.
“The Commissioner seems stressed.” I smirked, reaching up to run my hand through his hair.
“With all the murders, robberies and bad press, I would be stressed as well.” He snickered. Turning me to him, his eyes went straight to my breasts, but that’s what I got for standing in my underwear as I watched the news.
“Like what you see?” I whispered to him while pulling on his tie.
His eyes were coated with lust before he shook his head clear. “Yes, very much so, and as much as I would enjoy making you scream my name until your voice cracked, we have a very important wedding to get to.”
“You’re turning down sex for a wedding?”
“It’s not just any wedding love.” He pouted. “It’s Saige and Amory’s wedding, which means . . .”