“Thank you,” Victor said, opening the bag and peering inside before nodding in satisfaction and turning his eyes back to mine. “I’ve been expecting you,” he smirked, glancing over my shoulder at the two guards. “I’ll take it from here boys,” he said, dismissing them.
“You got it, Vic, be back in an hour to bring you to church,” the first officer promised as I stepped inside and he closed the cell door.
I dropped the few belongings they gave me onto the bottom bunk and turned around, raising an eyebrow at Victor.
“Church?”
“Man needs God when he’s locked away for the rest of his life,” he explained. “He repents his sins and hope that changes where he ends up after he takes his final breath,” he continued.
“I bet he does,” I murmured, knowing those words would stick with me for the rest of my life. They were the words of a man who spent his whole life defeating the odds and now staring at him, his luck finally had run out.
A man up until a few weeks ago I was destined to become.
“Jack came up about a week ago to catch me up to speed with our situation,” he said, as he bent down and stripped his thin mattress of its sheet.
“Glad, he found time for a visit,” I gritted. “Look, Vic I’m not really sure what the plan is or if there even is one—
He turned around, his gray eyes pinned me with a hard stare.
“There’s always a plan,” he interrupted. “We’ll have you out of here by the end of the week as long as you play by my rules,” he paused, cocked his head the side and started again. “Heard there’s a certain someone on the outside waiting for you.”
I drew my eyebrows together as I crossed his arms and deciphered his words, wondering which enemy he was referring too, not surprised that he would have intel on that sort of thing.
He smiled, revealing perfectly straight teeth as he winked at me knowingly.
“Your choice woman has my friend up in arms,” he teased.
“I bet he had a mouthful to say,” I mumbled.
“He voiced his concerns,” he said as he tied one end of the sheet around one of the metal bars. “Take it from me, it’s hard on a man when he looks at his daughter and realizes she’s all grown up and you’re not the only man in her life anymore.”
He walked to the other end of the bars and tied the other corner of the sheet around a bar, covering the bars, before he turned back around and wiped his hands clean.
“You’ve met my daughters haven’t you?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, watching as he walked over to the small sink and grabbed a photo taped above it of his two daughters, Nikki and Adrianna. “And your wife,” I added. “You’re a lucky man.”
“Yes, I used to be,” he agreed and brought his index finger to his lips before pressing the kiss to the photograph. “And then my luck ran out.”
He placed the photograph back in its rightful spot but continued to stare at it.
“I was about your age, married with two little girls and the biggest empire in New York. I was on top of the world, untouchable, and unstoppable, making more money than anyone could’ve imagined. My wife was dripping in diamonds and my kids didn’t want for a thing. I’d go out all night, hustle hard and come home in the morning just as Grace was getting the girls ready for school. I’d give them a quick kiss, promise there would be a surprise waiting for them when they came home and handed my wife a knot of cash. I thought that’s what made a man successful.”
I used to hate Jack’s alliance with Victor, I thought it was bad for the club to mix our organization with his. I didn’t like breaking bread with the mob and thought we ran in different circles. But I learned our club and his organization had many similarities, we were both outlaws and mostly we wanted the same things as far as our town. We wanted to keep the concrete jungle under our thumb, run shit our way, with no interference from others. We wanted to make money, and when we started to…well, we wanted to make more because stacks of hundreds under your mattress wasn’t enough. You wanted the shoeboxes in your closet full too.
“I used to think that too,” I admitted. “I was married, lost her though and when I did it didn’t matter how much I gave her it didn’t keep her in my life.”
“I know,” he said. “But you, you got a second chance,” he pointed out. “You’ll get out of here and there’ll be a life waiting for you. It’s an opportunity to live hard and fast but for the right reasons, for the reasons that make life worth living.”
He coughed heavily as if he was choking. I jumped to my feet, ready to pat him on the back but he held up a hand in protest and continued to cough up a lung.
Pride.
He still had it.
“That’s better,” he said, taking a deep breath.
“You okay?”