Son of a Mobster (Criminal Desires) Read online

  SON OF A MOBSTER

  Jennie Lyne Hiott

  IT’S COMPLICATED PROD.

  Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author.

  All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

  Copyright © 2017 by Jennie Lyne Hiott

  Published by It’s Complicated Prod.

  Interior design by Pronoun

  Distribution by Pronoun

  ISBN: 9781537860886

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  Thank You

  Author’s Note

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  More by Jennie Lyne Hiott

  DEDICATION

  To Mrs. Arlene Wilson and her wonderful love of the written world. Your encouragement will linger in my heart forever.

  THANK YOU

  To my husband, Mark who wrote the ‘Diner Lady’ scene with me.

  To Mr. Bob Hamer for you taking the time to talk with me and for sharing stories about your amazing career.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The island of Jenithiyah and its cities are fictional. In my books, the unsolvable mystery of the Bermuda Triangle is really no mystery at all. It is a place with magical waters, imprisoned by tall mountains. In my imagination, the many lost souls never died. They created a new civilization as they searched for a way home. An exit that, unfortunately, was never found. The descendants of the lost still remain in this thriving society, but they no longer search for a way out. They just live, searching for the same things we all want – love.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations are entirely coincidental.

  ONE

  (Sean)

  I STRADDLED MY WIFE ON the bed, rolling the muscles of my abdomen in an out and making a mouth out of my belly button by squeezing the skin around it.

  “What’s the matter, baby? You know you want to kiss me,” I deepened my voice, comically giving the obscured body part a voice of its own.

  “You’re such a goofball!” Sara squealed and playfully smacked my bare chest.

  “Oww!” The deep voice whined. I fell to my side. “You got me … I’m dying!”

  I felt a soft finger trail my side, causing a sensation I could not ignore for long. I held my breath, pinched my eyes, then burst into a delightful howl. “Okay – okay! I give up!”

  “Wuss.” Withdrawing her playful attack, Sara fell back on the bed, rested her hands on her belly and exhaled a contented sigh. “I love you, Sean.”

  I braced the weight of my body on an elbow and gazed at her. Oh, I never could get enough of staring into those eyes – so blue and I knew every turquoise speckle that made the shade change with her mood.

  She had been my wife for three weeks and I still thought I was dreaming. Our courting hadn’t been easy. We were forbidden to contact each other, forced to sneak away to enjoy fleeting moments until finally we defied both our fathers and followed our hearts.

  Our fathers said we were too young. That we didn’t know what love was and that we had different beliefs, but that was nothing but a bunch of bull and we both knew it.

  I was a Gianetti, born into a family that enjoyed an endless supply of money obtained by dirty deeds and bloodied hands. My father said that Sara and her family was beneath us. Uniting our families brought no benefits and Sara’s father, a usually understanding Christian man, uncharacteristically shunned me from the moment my name escaped Sara’s lips. I couldn’t blame him. My name alone stood for pain and suffering. But Sara didn’t care who my family was. She never judged me like the rest of Jenithiyah. She judged my heart and oh, how I fell in love with her for that.

  When we were together no one else in the world existed. The world vanished and we were deaf to the people who chided and berated. So, what we were barely adults. Anyone under twenty-five was considered a child in Jenithiyah and to me it seemed far too long when I felt and worried about the things full grown men thought about. I couldn’t stand waiting for that milestone to come. For that freedom to make my own choices, but Sara beat me to it.

  I’ll never forget how stunned I was. I had carried a diamond ring in my pocket for months, deliberating an ultimatum; my father’s ways and his money – or Sara. In that moment, the choice was easy for the money meant nothing if it meant denying my heart. I could not – and would not live without Sara and she was sure our families would have to accept us after we were married.

  Eloping was easy. We came from Demora, a city where everything and everybody moved fast. Where casinos stood tall and bright. Where anyone could get married on a whim. We chose a place just inside the city limits that resembled a church. We had a small wedding. No fancy catering. No expensive flowers. No guests. The notary and his wife who owned the chapel were the only witnesses. Still, not one woman alive could have compared with the beauty of my bride despite the absence of the traditional fancy gown. In ripped jeans, my white dress shirt and a single red rose in hand, Sara was breathtaking and as we promised our hearts to each other forever, I knew we had made the right choice.

  “What are you thinking about?” Sara touched her hand to my cheek, bringing me back from the memory.

  “Just thinking about how much I love this place.”

  She sat up, cast her eyes on the splintered and faded hardwood floors, and then raised them to the yellowing wallpaper held by tacks in some places. “We live in a one room apartment that smells like … I have no clue what that smell is.” She laughed. “Oh yeah, this is much better than that palace you lived in.”

  “So, light a candle.”

  “It’s going to take more than scented candles to cure what reeks in here.”

  “Any place is a palace when you live in it.” No one who knew me would understand why I had given up a sprawling mansion for the run-down apartment I’d rented in on the rough side of Demora. They didn’t understand how I could stand to be a mere gopher for a local construction company. But one day they would understand. One day they would gaze at the woman of their dreams and they would get it. “This place is – heaven.”

  “You’re crazy,” she whispered and traced her fingers across shoulders. My skin tightened and tingled with her touch.

  “If I am, I don’t want to be sane,” I returned, wishing I could stay in that moment forever and I would have if only I had not stolen a glimpse of the alarm clock, tattling the time from an old milk crate we used as a night stand. “I’ve got to take a shower before it’s too late,” I moaned, slid to the edge of the mattress and placed my feet on the floor.

  Sara giggled and I knew it was be
cause I looked odd crouched on the edge of our frameless bed with knees level to my chest.

  “Why don’t you join me?”

  “Always a flirt,” Sara teased. “I’ll pass. It’s too small and you nearly fell out last time we tried that.”

  “If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be.” I kissed her cheek and gently played with a strand of her long, ebony hair. Gazing intently into her eyes. “I love you.” She sighed her satisfaction, giving me one of those sweet smiles that meant she was happy – happy with me.

  Reluctantly, I made my way to the small bathroom, pausing for one more look. That was the hardest part of my life – leaving her side to go to work.

  She touched the tips of her forefingers to her lips, flattening her hand and blew the kiss my way. “You’re going to be late for work.”

  “I’m going.”

  I had to hurry to take my shower. Damn. It seemed always waited until the last minute. It was so hard to pull myself from my wife’s arms, but I had to provide for her too. I hated my job. I hated being bossed around by that beer gutted old fool, yet any job I held was better than the family business and the pay was good. I just wish I didn’t have to remind myself of that every single time my foreman pushed my buttons.

  One day it was all going to be different though. I was going to have that man’s job. I was going to buy Sara a nice home. One with a picket fence in a nice neighborhood. We were going to fill the rooms with children –

  The sound of wood splintering and crashing interrupted my thoughts.

  “Sean!” Sara screamed in a high-pitched, heart-stopping tone.

  “Stay on the bed!” A man’s voice echoed from the larger room.

  I nearly slipped on wet tile getting to the door.

  The intruder stood frozen in opposite door frames with eyes wide.

  “Jacob?” I could not believe what I was seeing. My best friend – and he stood with a nine millimeter aimed at my wife. “This ain’t funny man,” but something hinted that it was no joke.

  Jacob shook his head slowly and gaped with tear filled eyes. “You’re not supposed to be home, Man.”

  “Jacob, don’t do this,” Sara pleaded and made a desperate shift toward me. I reached for her hand.

  “Don’t move!” Jacob murmured. He waved his gun. “I’m dead serious!” His whole body shook, rendering his gun hand unstable. “Sara – I’m,” he choked on his words and shifted his brown eyes from one of us to the other “I’m sorry,” he mouthed with glassy eyes.

  “Put the gun down. It’s not worth it,” I softly tried to reason, inching closer to the bed.

  “I can’t, Sean,” A heartsick moan escaped his lips.

  “Yes, you can. Just put it down and we will forget all about it. We can run away – all of us – we’ll hide together.”

  “You know better than that … Sean … They ordered … she’s the mark … it has to be done.”

  “Jacob.” Sara clenched the sheet tight to cover her body, pleading with a man she thought she could trust. “You’re our friend.”

  “Don’t look at me, Sara.” Tears fell freely, streaking Jacob’s cheeks. “Please! Just turn away.”

  I stared helplessly at Sara, begging on her knees. Her fearful expression broke my heart. This is what her father feared. This was why he wanted me to stay away from her.

  Maybe if I could get closer. Jacob was twig compared to me. He was tall and gangly and I knew I could easily overpower him, then talk some sense into him – if I could just get near enough.

  “I said don’t move!” Jacob paced. Touched the gun to his head. He was using. I believed he was high then. The decision would have been easy for him if he were sober.

  I took another step. He pointed the gun at Sara again and I retreated. The guy was out of his mind.

  I glanced at a spot beneath the mattress where I hid my own weapon from my anti-arms wife. It was the only secret I had ever kept from her. I inched, hoping Sara could hold the assassin’s attention long enough for me to obtain it. Once I had it, Jacob would relent.

  “Jacob you’re better than this,” Sara cried. “Just walk away – walk away from it all.”

  “Sara,” Jacob’s cracked voice uttered. “Don’t you get it? It’s you – or it’s me.” I saw that softened glint cloud his eyes. The gun slightly lowered.

  I took advantage and dove, snatching my pistol.

  Jacob turned his aim to me.

  “This bullet’s not meant for you, Sean!”

  “You know how deadly my aim is Jacob. Don’t make me shoot you!”

  “You know, I always knew you’d let this chick come between us.” Jacob’s head turned side to side in disbelief. “I told you not to walk away from your father. Now, look what you’ve done! To all of us!”

  With a heavy heart, I pulled that hammer. Refusing to forfeit. “Think about what you’re doing – friend.”

  Jacob’s gaze returned to Sara. “Forgive me?” He squeezed the trigger, but fumbled. His normal mistake of forgetting the safety bought just enough time.

  Sara screamed. The shot echoed.

  Jacob clutched his chest with one hand. He stared at the wound with an expression of sorrowful surprise.

  In a whirlwind, fate had dealt us all a raw hand. A moment scarcely longer than a heartbeat left our lives utterly destroyed. The intruder laid motionless on the faded hardwood floor, just steps inside our door.

  “Why?” It was the first and last time my gun hand ever shook. “Why didn’t you just put the gun down?” The gun fell from my hand and I fell to my knees, unable to dismiss years of friendship. I cradled his head in my lap and shared his horror.

  “I had … I had … to,” Jacob gurgled. “It’s …not … but … yours … too.” Jacob’s last breath escaped him and his eyes glazed. His sputtering dwindled and his lips no longer quivered. It was over.

  I trembled and rocked my buddy. The one who had been by my side since we were ten years old. What happened didn’t make sense, no matter how hard I tried to rationalize it.

  A moan distracted my grief and it hit me. Sara had not spoken. I did not hear fearful sobs. The room had been quiet. Too quiet.

  “Sara?” I scrambled to my feet and felt all the blood drain. Sara’s olive complexion appeared pale. Her eyes distant.

  I fell to the mattress and cupped her face in my hands. “Baby, look at me.” I inspected her body. Warm crimson trickled down her naked body from the hole in her side and stained white sheets. She opened, then closed her mouth. The pain, seemingly so intense she could not control any other function.

  “Don’t leave me, Sara,” I begged hysterically.

  Her breathing stilled. “Please! Stay with me!”

  A veil of darkness draped over our love that day, taking her soul, irreparably scarring mine and forbidding our earthly hearts from ever again beating as one.

  I scowled at Jacob’s lifeless body as a painful scream flew from my lips. Sara was all I had. All I wanted and he’d taken her with him! And I still didn’t understand why.

  I lost it. My body shook. I embraced Sara, caressed her silky hair. My kisses mixed with my tears on her soft skin as I begged for my own heart to stop beating.

  The police arrived quickly. Only moments had transpired since Jacob had kicked in our door even though it had seemed like an eternity to me.

  The first man to enter gazed at the lifeless form, laying in his own blood in my home. His gaze met mine. A furious hatred turned his normally soft eyes cold. “Put your hands up!” He growled with malice, holding his gun in an authoritive form and approaching cautiously until he noticed my weapon discarded beside Jacob.

  He tore me from my wife. Slammed my head into the soft bedding and read me my rights.

  “Take it, easy.” His partner warned. “Cornell’s on his way.”

  “Screw Cornell!” The blond headed cop, a man I knew, tightened handcuffs around my wrists tight.

  But I didn’t feel them cutting the skin. I was numb. No longe
r a big tough guy. I was broken. Shattered with tears falling in streams down my cheeks.

  “Look what you’ve done!” The blond headed cop bellowed, jerking me to my feet. “Look, Gianetti! I told my mother you were nothing but trouble!”

  The room was swamped with suits and badges as if they had materialized from the faded woodwork. Where the hell had they been ten minutes before? Where? I wanted to scream as I was dragged away. But it was all a blur. I didn’t speak. I didn’t explain. I let them drag me away, my eyes on Sara until the last possible second.

  ~ ♥ ~

  I often think about that day. I stared at the small wedding band I rolled between my fingers. Ten years had passed and those last moments together were the only memories of Sara I could remember in full detail. I couldn’t forget the fear in Sara’s eyes, the tear that rolled down her cheek and the soft smile she had managed for me just as her last breath escaped her trembling lips. The joy, as well as the pain of that day, haunts me.

  I dropped the ring on the table in front of me and stood up. I brought a glass of whiskey to my lips, took a sip. Sara’s smile flashed. It was my fault. I screamed a deep wail of pain and threw the glass against the wall. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the liquor stained wall and shattered shards of glass on the floor that mimicked my life.

  The grandfather clock chimed and I glared at the tall object. Time was a cruel joke, ticking by so slowly even though it already knew what the future held.

  TWO

  (Jessie)

  I HAD TO HIT SOMETHING. Hard. I struck the heavy punching bag with enough force to rattle its chain, but I no longer saw the bag. It became moments and memories swimming through my head in all directions with no single thought holding my focus.

  A left jab, right, and another left.

  Images flashed in a poisonous stream, hurling me back in time. The sounds of the squealing tires and shattering glass echoed in my ears, reminding of a crash that stole my parents, leaving my life as crumpled as the pile of metal remaining in that intersection.