"I'm here, baby," I say to my youngest son as I push my way through the men. Ryan's the last in my way, but I don't push him. I only have to gently sneak by, and he lets me go. My heart is breaking into tiny little pieces that can't be collected and put back together. And it's fine and I don't care, because the only thing I had to stay together for anymore just took his final breath. Still, I push on.
Michael stands, with Leo by his side, in front of his father's men. In front of Michael is his father. He's got his knees to the ground with his legs tucked beneath him. His head is bowed. Execution style, only he's made to face his own men. If it weren't for the tremble of Mike's hand, I might think he was sedated somehow. Not that anybody here would give him that courtesy. He needs to feel every single piece of the pain he's about to endure.
"There's a new boss at the helm," Michael says. His shiny gold Desert Eagle looks heavy in his hand as the barrel points at the back of his father's head. Maybe it's not the gun itself but the act instead. I don't care either way. Mike took my babies. Jim helped me save them twenty years later. And now here we are. So many are dead, and those who are left are hurting. My attention shifts for half a moment to the curvy woman in the corner of the warehouse. She's got her hand over her mouth and her eyes clamped closed.
Gloria.
I want to comfort her, if only to focus on something other than my own pain, but my body won't let me. Instead, I stand, glued in place, as I watch my baby boy deliver a speech to a crowd of frightened men. They don't show it much, but it's there in the ticks of their jaws and the flickering of their eyes. Dead men always know what's coming.
"I will not stand for loyalty to anyone but me, is that understood?"
One lone man steps forward, despite the multitude of guns pointed in his direction. He spits on the cement and snarls in Michael's direction as he says, "I answer only to your father."
In response, Michael winks at the man and then pulls the trigger. His .38 lands center in the back of Mike's skull. His body slumps forward, death immediately taking him. I feel nothing. Where I should feel relief and vengeance, I just feel even more sorrow. Michael's face is impassive, as though he didn't just put a bullet in the back of his father's skull. The man who challenged him takes off running, but he doesn't get far. Without pause, Michael takes him out with three bullets to the guy's back.
"Does anybody else want to challenge me?"
Nobody does. They all stand in silence at my son's feet. Leo takes to one knee in a show of fealty that I've never before seen in the Italians. It doesn't take long for the wary and fearful men to do the same. As I scan the room, watching each of Mike's, now Michael's, men pledge their loyalty to him, a sinking horror overtakes me.
This might be the end of the war for Forsaken, but it's just the beginning for Michael. He won't ever give up his position of power, and he won't leave New York even if I ask, so I won't. Instead, I stand by his side, terrified to look him in the eye and discover that he's more his father than I ever realized--a merciless killer with no remorse for any of his sins.
The End
Exactly three years after our journey began we now end it with Cease.
Thank you for joining me on this epic ride.
NOW PRESENTING MR. & MRS. STONE
Ryan
Fort Bragg, California
A few years later
The icy wind cuts through my thin black button-up and practically leaves icicles on my arms in its wake. It's not so bad on my chest and back, where my cut provides a little extra protection, but the rest of me is covered in goosebumps. Even my rather sizable nut sack has shrunk to something less than impressive. Still, I don't move. I'd have been warmer if I'd worn flannel, but I promised my dad I wouldn't.
Give her what she wants. You won't ever regret it making her happy.
Cub asked for the button-up. The cut, the jeans, the boots were all fine. But the plain black button-up was a must. After years of being turned inside out by this woman, of begging her to wear my ring, she finally accepted. If all she wants is one fucking thing, I'll do it. Hell, I'd have worn a full monkey suit if she'd ask me to. But she didn't, because that's my girl. She doesn't ask for more than she needs.
And in just a few minutes, my girl becomes my wife.
My nerves get the best of me, and I have to suck in a shaky breath to calm myself down. It doesn't work, but at least when I scrub my face I can get rid of the water in my eyes without feeling like such a pussy. I wish my dad were here. I wish so fucking bad that I'd have taken that bullet instead.