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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2300249-Whose-Side-Are-You-On
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Crime/Gangster · #2300249
Rebuilding a shattered family while seeking revenge.
Will you hold the line?
When every one of them is giving up
And giving in, tell me
In this house of mine
Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost
Tell me, will the stars align?
Will heaven step in? Will it save us from our sins—will it?
Cause this house of mine stands strong...
- Natural, by Imagine Dragons


Man, I've gotten myself into a big mess. But it's not my fault. Blame James. He's the one who made my little sister Rose fall in love with him twenty years ago. Okay, maybe I should explain.

We were orphans. Just me and Rose. We're the only family we ever had. We lived in the orphanage all our lives because no one ever wanted to adopt both of us, and we were not about to be separated. I wasn't letting anyone take her away from me.

I loved her and kept her safe as well as I could until James Conover came along and stole her heart when she was seventeen and I was nineteen. They really cared for each other, I could see plainly enough. They got married and had a kid, a baby girl. Named her Leona Rose. He was twenty-one and a real upstart—fancied himself a detective. Imagine that: a detective barely old enough to drink alcohol. He was working on his degree and hoping to get hired by the FBI. Ha. Let me tell you how that panned out.

James graduated, got his job as an FBI agent and immediately went to work against the local mob dominating politics and big business at the time. Great idea for a family man, right? They sure knew how to deal with him. It wouldn't have been quite so awful if they had simply killed him, but no—they killed Rose. My sister, my only friend, my family. Gone horribly. No more of her sweet smile, cheerful laugh or loving care. My world crashed that day and hasn't been rebuilt since. I remember her funeral like it was yesterday: the white roses, the black clothing, the tears.

After it was over I paced angrily up and down the room arguing with James about our future. Instead of swearing to take down the gang who murdered his wife, he would quit his job and give up detective work. Would you believe it? I was furious.

"What kind of justice is that?" I demanded. "Don't you see you're doing exactly what they want you to do, backing out?"

"It's the only thing I can do, Damien." He responded wearily. A thin, bony man, hair faded with grief shortly after Rose's death. "You want to lose Leona too?"

"But—but—" I sputtered.

Little Leona herself toddled in as if on cue, clutching a teddy bear. I turned to her, got down on one knee and looked into those big blue eyes she got from her mother.

"Why didn't you cry at the funeral?" I asked her.

She looked at me solemnly. I felt a bit funny: a stocky guy with dark hair and dark eyes, talking to a little girl at eye level. But I was curious.

"I didn't want to bother anyone."

So odd for a small child. But that's how she was.

"You're just a kid. You aren't going to bother anyone if you cry. Your mother is dead. You saw me crying, didn't you?" She nodded. "Well, go off by yourself and cry all you want. Let it all out."

I watched as her somber eyes filled up with tears and she turned quickly, running off hugging her teddy bear tighter, before James could gather her up into his arms. He gave me a stern look as if I had done something wrong.

That turned out to be the last time I saw Leona Rose. I told James that if he wouldn’t bring those ruthless gangsters and murderers to justice, I would. So of course he wanted to know how I was going about doing that, not being a trained federal agent like him. And I said the only thing I could think of: "If you can't beat ‘em, join ‘em."

And that was the end of it. He would have nothing more to do with me, the old cowardly goody two shoes. As if it wasn't bad enough taking my sister away from me and getting her killed, and then not even pressing bravely forward with what he'd gotten himself into, he had to take my niece away too. Not that I cared much for her, peculiar little kid. But still. Family. I have none, thanks to him.

I didn't know where to begin with my sworn revenge, but I knew it had to be done if I spent my whole life doing it. As indeed I have. I started down a dark and grimy path of getting involved in the gang. No one thought I was related to Rose, and no one could care less. They call me Stumpy. I hate that nickname—"Hey Stumpy!" I am no shorter than anyone else. My name is Damien. It's a strong name, from the Greek. It means one who tames, who takes control. But I bided my time and worked my way up the gang’s ranks, trying to avoid having to kill anyone—unless they deserved it. Knocked off a couple rival gang members and earned the boss’s respect that way. Don't worry, they were rotten. Really bad. My goal was to eliminate the boss who authorized Rose's murder and the hitman who carried it out, who happened to be the boss's right-hand man. It took me years to meet either of them face to face.

And now here I was, standing in a musty back office in front of the two men I hated most. Was this my long-awaited moment of revenge? Hardly. They had called me in for a special op that required my particular skills.

"You're too young to remember James Conover."

The boss's name was Al Biggs, and he looked like a pig wearing a suit and tie: overfed, oversized and thoroughly nasty.

"Seems to ring a bell." I played it cool. They still didn't know who I was.

"Fifteen years ago, he was a rising star in the FBI." Biggs started slowly.

Oh, don't I know it. Why were they telling me?

"Got too close for comfort, so we dealt with him." He waved towards the other man, who went by Jiggs. He sneered proudly. Even uglier than Biggs, if that was possible.

"What, bumped him off?" I asked casually.

"No, not him—his wife."

They chuckled gleefully as if it was the funniest thing. My blood boiled. I choked down my rage.

"That's the last we heard of him—until now."

Now? Now what?

"He's back in the game and pressing us hard. If we don't do something about him, Stumpy, he'll get lots of us behind bars."

My head was spinning. Why did wimpy James suddenly decide to take up detective work again? He had to go and stick his neck out just when I was getting within reach of my goal. What were they asking me to do now, kill him? To be honest, I despised him, but not enough to leave Leona an orphan. But no, it was worse. Far worse.

"Stumpy, you gotta go after the one thing he has left—his kid. We'll repeat it and see how he likes it."

Oh no you won't. I kept calm and thought quickly, my heart pounding. Hard to believe this was happening. Life was coming around at me full circle. Holding a loaded gun, no less.

"You know I don't like killing innocent people if I can help it." I spoke as slowly as I could to buy time.

"Ah, but that's the way to go, Stumpy boy. The quickest way to mess with someone: destroy the thing they love most in the world, preferably right in front of their face."

Diabolical. But I'm a hardened man. I wasn't afraid of these monsters.

"But you see, you'll leave him with nothing to lose. He'll be a desperate man. Desperate for revenge. You're setting yourselves up so that he would not possibly even consider stopping what he's doing."

I tried to sound convincing. It wasn't hard, considering I was describing myself.

"Well then, kill the girl and him too," Biggs snapped. He was getting impatient.

I crossed my arms and looked him right in his beady little eyes.

"Both of them? Come on man. What's with you?"

"Bragging rights!" He barked. "Show those Feds what they're up against—we'll take 'em out plus collateral damage!"

"I refuse." My eyes narrowed. I was up against it, alright. If I wasn't careful we'd all be dead. "What say I propose a different idea?" I rushed on before they could object. "An abduction. I kidnap the girl and we use her to bargain James off our backs. Make him agree to withdraw from the FBI or it'll cost him his life and hers. He can't say no to that. And then it's up to him to keep the agreement. If he forfeits that, it's not my business. You handle the penalties."

Biggs and Jiggs looked at each other, then at me. I stared them both down, arms folded. The tension in the room was like taut rubber bands.

"Fine, we'll do it your way," Biggs sneered. "But I'm warning you, if we catch him in our business afterward, I shall consider you personally responsible for failing us."

"Fine with me," I replied. I wasn't leaving any room for failure.

*****

I pulled my coupe behind a barn near James' home and waited. I had everything in order. It had required plenty of scouting to get a feel for his comings and goings and what Leona did with herself most of the time. She was eighteen now, a fine young woman. Tall, willowy, graceful. I could tell by how she dressed and carried herself. She was a real lady. Not one of those cheap flapper girls smoking in the backseat with her boyfriend. No, she was an old-school Victorian lady, prim and proper. James did a good job raising her. I'll give him credit. Why he was risking losing her now, I'll never know. If I hadn't handled it myself, she'd already be buried next to Rose.

I knew he still worked part-time at the bank—the career path he had chosen as his alternative to law enforcement. He had been a full-time manager until he joined the Feds again. Leona Rose spent a lot of time outside in their yard, gardening. She had an admirable garden on that pocket of land.

I waited until I saw James leaving in his sedan, and gave it about fifteen or twenty minutes. Leona, sure enough, was puttering around in the front yard with her plants. There was a fence and a gate, but that wasn't stopping me. I started the coupe and pulled up swiftly alongside the fence.

"Leona!" I shouted. "Get in quick! James was in a car accident—he needs you!"

She looked up, startled.

"You have to come. It’s an emergency!"

She dropped her trowel, ran to the gate, unlatched it and got right in the front seat as I flung the door open for her. I had ensured I looked respectable: clean white shirt, tweed blazer, felt hat.

"Where is he?"

I waited until we were a safe distance from her home before responding. Getting her in the car was easy. Now was the tricky part. Like, really tough.

"He's fine, actually," I said. "You're the one in trouble now." Probably not the kindest way to put it.

She stared at me, and I could sense the panic setting in as she realized this was a trap. I braced myself for many reactions: screaming, crying, fainting, hysteria.

"Who are you? What is this? Where are we going?" She fired the questions at me like weapons angrily. Then silence, stiff and tense, waiting.

What could I say? I glanced over at her, and our eyes met. I couldn't remember the last time I'd looked a young lady in the eye… probably not since Rose was alive. I could see the fear, disgust and anger in Leona's blue eyes; she looked so much like her mother that it hurt.

I didn't want my niece to see me that way. I wanted to earn her respect and trust, to have her look at me with something akin to her love for her father. If I told her now who I really was and what I'd gotten us into, she'd never forgive me. But again, it's James' fault.

I marveled at how quiet she remained. She still carried that calm, silent demeanor and dignified self-restraint she’d had as a small child. I wondered how much James had told her about me, about her mother… There was no chance she would remember me: the last she'd seen of me was fifteen long and dreary years ago.

"Well, what's happening?" She demanded impatiently.

"Listen, I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, I'm not really kidnapping you—more like rescuing you."

"Really, now?" Her lips twitched. "I suppose I was in serious danger?" Her voice said it all. Oh boy. Guess she inherited my own sardonic humor. This would be funny if it wasn't dead serious.

"Actually, you were. If I hadn't handled this myself, you would have been killed. Your Dad's working with the FBI. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't." She considered this. Then, in a different tone, "So, are you with the FBI?"

"Unfortunately not. I'm sure if I were this wouldn't be happening."

"Whose side are you on then?" Her frustration was palpable.

I sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter as we rounded a bend.

"I've been dancing with the devil for too many years now," I said grimly. "If any of us gets out of this alive, I swear I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

She stared at me, sizing me up, frowning.

"What are you talking about?"

"Trust me—"

"Trust you?" This had to be the most harrowing conversation I'd ever had. I thought talking to Biggs and Jiggs was tough.

"Never mind. Just sit still, okay? You'll be fine—really." I could only hope and pray that I was right.

*****

"Damien, what have you done?" The pain in James' voice stung me with shame. We were together, the three of us, in an empty room. Leona was sitting in a chair. I was standing behind it. James was standing in the doorway, eyes moving from his daughter to me, a slight tremor in his jaw.

"It's not my doing. It's them."

"I told you not to join them."

"What did you expect me to do, nothing? Like you?"

"I only withdrew to protect her. You know that."

"Then why are you back? What did you think would happen this time?"

"I—I—You can't do this. You know you can't… Leona’s your niece, for god's sake."

"Look, it's not what you think. I'm on your side." I knew he wasn't convinced. Did he think I had spent my entire adult life trying to avenge my sister, only to turn around and use my niece as a pawn in this sordid game? I'd have to be some sicko for that to happen. I stepped around Leona's chair, strode to my brother-in-law and touched his shoulder.

"You have to listen to me. This is a matter of life and death. Take Leona, get in my car and skip town on Route 31. There's a diner out at the 441 intersection. Behind it you will find an old red Ford Ranger with the keys in the ignition. Use that to drive to this address over the state line. I'll have further directions when you get there. The idea is to get as far from here as fast as possible while I deal with the fallout. While you're driving, talk with Leona Rose about everything you've been keeping secret, okay? It's about time she knows the truth."

We locked eyes for a long moment.

"You have to trust me," I added firmly. "For Leona's sake. I'm only trying to protect her too. She—she's all we have, James."

He took a deep shuddering breath and nodded slowly. I motioned to her, and she got up and approached us. James embraced her tightly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly. "It's all my fault."

She hugged him close and patted his back comfortingly.

"No it's not, Daddy." She whispered back. "I'm okay. Really."

I stood away awkwardly, wishing I could join them, explain everything and apologize for putting them through this. But there was no time. They were coming.

They turned to leave, but Leona paused and looked back at me questioningly.

"Will I ever see you again?"

I quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Would you want to see me again?" I asked, trying my best to smile. I don't think I've really smiled since Rose died. A bit rusty. But I saw the faint reciprocal flicker on Leona's face.

"If nothing else, you owe me a lot of explanation." She said dryly.

"Looking forward to it."

*****

After they left, I prepared myself for the inevitable showdown. Even if I died getting it done, I would have been satisfied with taking down Biggs and Jiggs at some point. But now I had something to live for. One could say I had my family back again, but this wasn't over by a long shot yet.

Jiggs showed up alone, as far as I could tell. Armed to the teeth. But still unaware.

"Where's the boss?" I was suspicious. It was supposed to have been both of them. He ignored the question.

"Where's the girl?" He demanded.

"They escaped," I said tersely, keeping my right hand on my holster.

"Escaped?! You—"

Impatient to get this over with, I pulled the gun on him.

"Hands up!" I ordered. He stared blankly and put them up. "You don't know who I am, do you?" Now, finally, I had him where I wanted him. "I am James Conover's brother-in-law. The woman you murdered fifteen years ago is my sister. The one you wanted to murder today is my niece." He only continued to stare, as if his ugly little brain was frozen. "You never thought it would catch up with you, huh? It took me long enough. But now… the pit of Hell is too comfortable a place for you, Jiggs."

"Hey—hey Stumpy—" He stuttered. "If I'd known—"

It was over quickly. Not much to say about that. But I distrusted why Biggs had stayed behind.

Turns out he suspected a trick. The next few hours were a blur of action, and honestly I hardly recall enough about what transpired to describe it. But I could never forget the full-on car chase: James and Leona on the run, Biggs and several henchmen in one car close upon them, and I was close behind them, followed by a swarm of FBI agents and other top gun law enforcement.

We raced around corners and blasted down long country roads, trying to catch up to Biggs and stop him. We couldn't lay down slash strips because we would disable the car James was driving first. It culminated at a dead end, where James' car got stuck in the mud and the two took off running through the dirt. Biggs was about to catch up and run them down. I swung my car wide and did the only thing left to do: crash it into Biggs car at right angles full speed ahead. I know, I know, my chances of surviving that stunt were pretty close to zero. I was protecting my family.

*****


I awakened in a hospital bed in casts, with my brother-in-law and niece staring anxiously down at me. Ow. I wondered how many pieces I was in. It didn't matter. They were alive. And so was I, somehow. Leona took my hand in both hers, her face glowing and tearful.

"It's a miracle you're alive, Uncle."

"Don't cry about me. I'll be just fine." I assured her.

James took my other hand and squeezed it. I looked at him.

"One question for you, man. What made you rejoin the FBI for crying out loud?"

"I was looking for you, Damien."

"Say what?"

"I wanted to apologize for wasting all those years. I thought we could work together. For Rose. For justice."

I considered this for a minute.

"Hey, it wasn't wasted. You had a daughter to raise. You did the right thing. I, on the other hand…" We laughed together. It hurt me to laugh, but I didn't mind.

A feeling came over me that I don't get very often. I hadn't felt it since the last time I hugged Rose.
I felt the bitter, heavy burden of the past sliding off my shoulders as closure finally came flooding in. I didn't know what the future would hold for me, but I knew the two people I would do anything to spend it with.
© Copyright 2023 Amethyst Angel (House Mormont) (greenwillow at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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