"Close the door and take a seat Carlos," the Old Man informs me and I do as he says," Two months and some days you've been unable to handle business. I kept hearing police are watching but now they aren't. So when am I going to be able to retrieve shipments that are overdue and get them moving again?"
"Week after Christmas, just before the New Year sir. We'll have your goods back in your hands to move," I let him know I'm ready to work which earns me a respectful smile.
"Good to hear it, the problem is why were the police on you? What were your people doing that drew two months worth of heat," he asks, someone had to ask.
I explain a bit of the situation with Guy and Hector. I talk about the original idea to teach him some respect and how it blew up into three years of beatings and humiliation. The Old Man listens and doesn't say anything or ask any questions as I go through how Guy was nearly killed and my boys were blamed because of our history. I get to the end after our interrogations and alibis and I can tell the Old Man is thinking.
"So some stabs your whipping boy and the police think it was your people and you tell me, truthfully, that it wasn't your crew," he asks and I nod in response," So bring the boy in and explain it to him, like a man, and end it."
"I've tried, he won't speak to me. I've sent people to talk to him, he avoids them. I've tried talking to his sisters, they we very clear on what they thought of me and the worst part is I didn't know how connected his family was till it all came down," I explain and he nods to continue," For three years nothing, we didn't find out where he lived because we didn't care. He had no friends or family, nobody came to his defense so my crew just did what they wanted. Hell, it became a game to some of the people at the school of how badly we could embarrass or hurt him; they were taking bets on it."
"So now he has a family, why are they hired killers," the Old Man says with a laugh and I shake my head slowly.
"Worse, his sisters are the brains and queen bee of the whole fucking school. His older brother was the rich football guy who supplied the team with the best when they won. Then there is his mom, queen of the charity function and halfway house. I know of four that she helps manage and finally his dad," I take a breath and shake my head at the craziness of it," He's the senior partner at Delauter, Lindberg and Jennings."
"He's a senior partner at a law firm," the Old Man asks with a chuckle.
"No, he's Mr. Delauter, the senior partner. He could fry us seven ways to Sunday and not get any ash on him," I explain and the Old Man nods.
"So the boy kept his secret, why? Something doesn't make sense," he says and I shrug.
"Rumor is he didn't want special treatment due to family ties, he wanted to make his own way," I give him the rumor but he has a question.
"Well that's the boy's choice I guess, so what now? Going to keep with tradition," the Old Man asks and I shake my head.
"No, everyone is putting space between us and him. Anyone touches him and I personally will cut their fingers off," I state cool and calm.
"Makes sense, but you need to get him to talk to the cops to keep the pressure off. I got word today, as I said earlier, that the police were done following you around. Apparently there wasn't enough evidence to find who stabbed the kid and a friend of mine let me know they were putting the case away to the cold cases," he tells me and I feel relieved," You need to keep this kid, Guy or whatever his name is backed off and not talking to the police. More interruptions and I'm going to have to get involved professionally."
"Everyone of my crew knows to keep their distance from him regardless of the police, you have my word," I assure the Old Man who nods and we shake hands.
I leave after concluding business and check my phone. Marta's invitation to the Delauter Christmas party hasn't arrived but she can see the party is still happening on Christmas Eve and she's upset. I arrived home to an upset little sister.
"I've been Abigail's friend for three years and now I'm not welcome in their home," Marta just comes right out and slams me with her complaint.
"Not something I can fix little sister," we're speaking in Spanish and she's giving me the death look.
"Maybe you could turn in your boys for the shit they've been doing for the past three years. Or how about you find out which one of them stabbed Guy," Marta won't let this go as we walk through our parent's home.
"My boys did what they did but nobody came after us then and now you want them to take the fall for shit they didn't do," I get the words out and can hear my Mom in the kitchen," Sorry Mom, I love you."
Marta usually goes on for a few more hours when she wants me to fix something for her but not this time. She heads back to her room and slams the door, and now mom is yelling about slamming doors in the house. I think I need to take a drive soon, go to see Guy at home; his family doesn't shoot people on sight I think.
Guy Donnelly: the day before Christmas Eve Day
My Mom does charity work. Not like she donates money and smiles for the camera, she helps run girls' halfway houses and unwed mothers' homes. Also there are a couple soup kitchens and a mission clothing bank she pulled out of the ground. I'm learning about who she is for the first time in three years since she married Mr. Delauter but I still can't help but feel left out. Here she was spending all her time on my step siblings and then more of her time helping half the city, well maybe a quarter of it, and I'm walking around bruised and scared all the time. We're at one of the all girls' houses and Mom is dealing with a mountain of problems, apparently there is a delay in the truck bringing gifts to the girls here and she's on the phone working on making sure these girls have a Christmas. I don't walk around and look at the girls passing by her office door, it's just different to me as they are all looking and watching me. I quietly sit and pass the hour as finally the truck arrives and I make myself somewhat useful and begin helping to unload the truck. It takes a good bit but once the two pallets are off the truck Mom cuts the plastic wrapping and begins sorting out gifts for the girls. There must be fifty boxes here and she's got her system to sort them all with the other lady managing the place, a large black woman with pressed hair, and I make myself scarce and head back to Mom's office to wait. I get about ten feet into the hall from the outside and find myself a little cornered by a few of the girls.
"Are you her son," a heavy set black girl asks and I nod," you better not hurt Mrs. D or I'm gonna fuck you up? Got me?"
"Excuse me," I ask, confused.
"You heard me, she's been sad and worried that her boy would leave her and she'd never see him again. You're her boy so you better not hurt her," the girl says and a few others nod.
"Don't… don't push me…," my heart is beginning to pound and I feel a little light headed.