“What question might that be?” I asked, reaching for my coffee mug again as they continued to ogle one another. I knew what he was going to ask. I knew they had been sneaking around behind my back for months, but what I thought was a mild crush became serious over Grace’s pancakes. Anthony Bianci wouldn’t have risked his position with my organization if he wasn’t head over heels in love with my daughter.
It was that morning; I knew that they were the real thing. It was scarier than anything I had ever experienced before, knowing the man you never saw coming was standing in front of you, next to your daughter and, that he would be the man in her life for all of eternity.
My wild child, Adrianna, the rebellious little girl who grew to be such a strong woman.
And then there was my Nicole.
“Daddy, I baked you a cake!” she exclaimed, pointing to the lopsided cake on the kitchen table.
“Did you make this all by yourself?” I asked, lifting her high on my hip as I brushed the tip of my nose across hers.
“Yep! Mommy said you love chocolate cake,” she said excitedly.
I walked her to the kitchen drawer, pulled out two forks and set her on top of the table next to the cake.
“Mommy’s right. It’s my favorite,” I smiled at her. “Should we dig in?”
“What about plates?”
“What about them?” I winked, handing her a fork before I dug into the cake with mine. Her giggle caused my heart to grow ten times in size as she followed my lead and dug into the lopsided cake.
Those days, when the girls were young, were my favorite. They were the precious moments I took for granted and if I could do it again I’d be home more, spend more time with them because those years flew by.
My memory betrayed me, pulling the beautiful memories I cherished away and replacing them with the ugly ones. I was transcended to the cafeteria, stalking my way through the riot to the G-Man, watching as he licked the chocolate pudding off his spoon and locked eyes with me.
The flicker of surprise in his eyes had my pace quickening and I realized I did what I set out to do. I saw my plan through without exception. He never suspected that this would happen. That we would meet like this and I would take his life.
He stared at me, watching as I pulled the scissors out and close the distance between us.
“It’s about time, Pastore,” he goaded, gripping the edge of the table as he slowly stood. “You took long enough to get yours. I was thinking you would let me get away with everything.”
I didn’t reply, truthfully I didn’t even hear his words at the time but my conscious did. My conscious remembered every fucking word he uttered.
“Come on motherfucker, kill me, but it won’t make you the winner.” He shook his head. “I may have thought you gave up on revenge but that doesn’t mean I didn’t prepare for it.”
Lights flash, sirens sound, men scream but I’m ignorant to it all.
It’s a war zone around us but for me and him we are the only two who exist.
“No one will stop what I have planned. Not you, not your organization, and not your friends over at the Satan’s Knight’s clubhouse” He smiled eerily at me. “This is bigger than the rivalry between you and I, me and Jack Parrish, this is international and it doesn’t stop with me. The clock is ticking, Pastore, the plan is set, and no one is safe. A blood bath is coming. If you believe in God, then I suggest you pray for those tied to you and those tied to the Satan’s Knights.”
I open my eyes, the darkness blinds me as I try to focus and make sense of my dream. Confused, I don’t know if it’s real or my mind playing tricks on me. His words repeat over and over in my head as I stand on wobbly legs.
A blood bath is coming.
Pray for those tied to you and those tied to the Satan’s Knights.
The plan is set, and no one is safe.
“No!” I scream into the darkness.
No one hears me.
My voice echoes off the walls.
Alone.
Darkness, my only friend.
My mind, my only companion.
My memories, my enemy.
A blood bath is coming.
So real.
So vivid.
So true.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I lift the sleeve of my black suit and stare at the Breitling watch on my wrist then toward the staircase. We were late for the wedding and Adrianna was taking her sweet time getting dressed.
“Reese’s!” I shout up the stairs.
“Daddy, Grandma Maria said I can stay up late tonight,” Luca announces, walking into the living room tugging my mother’s hand.
“And that I can have ice cream,” he adds innocently.
I turn my gaze to my mother who shrugs her shoulders.
“Grandma’s have free control to spoil their grandbabies,” she answers. “Hasn’t that hooligan’s wedding started already?”
“Jack isn’t a hooligan.”
“Right, excuse me, I forgot he was the big cheese of a lovely motorcycle club,” she corrects, rolling her eyes. “Blue collar criminals, different from the classy ones we’re used to,” she sneers, shaking her head. “One kid married the mob the other married the biker club. Where did I go wrong?”
“Reese’s,” I holler again, desperate to escape my mother’s shenanigans.