CHAPTER 73 Screwed Up

*Liam*

I was seated in front of my father, listening to him yell and scream at me for a good fifteen minutes. Luckily, we were in his study where it was soundproof.

"Have you notified the delivery men to lie on your behalf?!" I stared at the artery pulsating in his neck , concerned he was going to keel over and die from a heart attack. I decided it was better if I behaved so he would calm down. "I can't believe you are this stupid to lose eight crates including the one that was supposed to be delivered to the cabin!" My father screamed, pounding his fist on his desk.

*Money, money, money*. *My father was so greedy*.

What a way to spend a Sunday. Usually, I would just wait for Dan to call me so we could go pay the men and women on our payroll. But since the money was coming from my stash, I had to listen to my father scold me while I waited for Dan's call.

"Dad, things like this happen. There are organizations who steal from rival organizations," I argued. "And yes, I have called the delivery men and I have paid them to keep quiet. Dan, on the other hand, is content with the money I've given him. He promises to keep quiet and to continue like nothing has happened. You can rest assured that Capo Bastone was only told of an attempt to steal our cargo. I have made sure no one talks including Sheriff Combs and his deputies." I noticed his body relax. I guess he was worried Capo Bastone would find out about the heist and punish us for it.

"And how about the men whose bodies are at the bottom of the lake?" He asked, without raising his voice.

"None of them work for Capo Bastone. They were all employed by me," I answered. "I promise to earn back our losses and double up security. For now, I'll be funneling some of the campaign funding into our account."

"That's another issue that I have to discuss with you," my father said, drumming his fingers on his wooden desk. "Aside from losing two million dollars and giving over a million dollars away to keep everything quiet, your popularity is dwindling. Sarah Hughes seems to be creating a name for herself. She has been seen speaking at Jack Emery's neighborhood, promising them better amenities. May I remind you one-third of the voting population lives in that area, Liam." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Dad, I already have that covered. Just like last election, I'll be buying their votes. As for their neighborhood, I've already signed off to fix the potholes in their streets as well as increase the number of streetlights. It's a band-aid solution, but it will keep them from voting for Hughes."

"Pretty up their playground too," my father suggested. "Get it repainted and plant some bushes or flowers in that place they call a park. By the way, where is Cris Murdock? He needs to work for the money we pay him. I haven't heard from him since last week."

"He didn't show up last night and Lisa said he's been gone since Friday. I assume he has been with Capo Bastone," I answered. My father shook his head disapprovingly.

"May Cynthia McDowell's death serve as a lesson for Capo Bastone," he said which puzzled the hell out of me. He acted like he didn't care.

"But with Cynthia McDowell dead, won't there be a disruption in the delivery of cold medicine?" I asked.

"No. It's business as usual...now that Norma Martin will be purchasing the pharmacy."

I leaned back in my chair. My father had an answer to everything.

My only problem now was Capo Bastone McDowell.

___________________

*Pete McDowell*

The staff of the funeral home was setting up for the viewing. Flowers adorned the area, chairs were aligned in rows for the guests, and coffee and snacks were set up in the corner. I sat alone, waiting for the casket which held my mother.

*God*, *I screwed up*.

The sniper rifle used was traced to the East North Central States division of the Angels of Darkness. Sure, I did have a *disagreement* with the underboss of the ENCS regarding one of their women, but to kill my mother and attempt to steal my money was a low blow. That I believed.

Before I left for the funeral home, I spoke with my capo, hoping he would agree to a retaliation.

"You aren't thinking straight, Pete. You'll ignite a war, if you go into their territory with guns blazing," my capo said. He was always calm and rational, always playing by the rules.

He never wanted to color outside the lines.

Well, that was *after* Joy Taylor.

"But they killed my mother! If I don't retaliate, they will see it as a sign of weakness," I argued.

"First of all, we aren't sure it's them. Yes, the gun found by the Sheriff is a gun they smuggle, but it doesn't necessarily mean they pulled the trigger," he rationalized.

"So you're saying that a gun... that fell off a truck somewhere... just happened to be the same gun that killed my mother? Do you see how stupid that sounds? They sent someone to kill her to get to me. Plain and simple."

"Or maybe they sent someone to kill you, but killed her instead. There, plain and simple," he pointed out, turning the tables on me. "Anyway, why would they want to kill you or your mother? What the fuck did you do?"

"Cris and I, uhm, we may have kidnapped a niece of the underboss. I did let her go when I found out about our mistake," I admitted.

"Did Cris or you touch this girl?" His voice was harsh, warning me not to lie.

"Maybe..."

"Goddammit, Pete! You raped a niece of the underboss?! What is wrong with you?! You fucking deserve to be hung by your balls!" He yelled through the phone, unable to contain his anger. He paused for several moments, breathing heavily, forcing himself to calm down.

I waited quietly, knowing I fucked up. But still...

"I suggest you take the death of your mother like a man. You raped a niece of an underboss. This is your punishment." He spoke in a hushed tone like I was child who was crying over a piece of candy.

"So you expect me to do nothing?!" I asked incredulously, not wanting to let it go.

"Yes, you little twat!" I grimaced. I hated being called that. "Now tell me, where is Cris? That cunt is causing too many problems."

"He's at home, recovering," I answered. "He, ah, accidentally killed a girl. I usually have my men dispose of the girls, but-"

"I usually have my men dispose of the girls," he said, mimicking me. "You're pathetic."

"Fuck you! Remember, I'm still your boss! I can have you killed!" I yelled at him, aware it was useless to threaten him. He scoffed at me, knowing that was all I could do... pull rank.

My capo never respected me. But I didn't care. I was still his boss whether he liked it or not.

"I swear on your mother's grave, Pete McDowell, one morning, when you wake up, the first thing you'll see is your severed dick in my hand," he growled, replying to my empty threat. My eyes narrowed... I didn't like the sound of that, not one bit. "Boy, you have gone too far this time. My advice? Play the grieving son, forget about avenging your mother's death, be grateful they didn't steal the money and keep your dick in your pants."

"How about Cris? You aren't going to hurt him, are you?" Cris was my bestfriend and he and I understood each other. I didn't want anything to happen to him.

"What about Cris? Don't tell me you're in love with him? You guys fuck each other too while sharing a girl?"

"No!" I denied angrily.

"If you say so," he said, amused. "If I don't get to Cris, the underboss of the ENCS will. Your mother is dead. Unfortunately, Lisa may be next."

That wouldn't be a bad idea. Lisa only tied Cris down.

"I know what you're thinking, Pete. Without Lisa in the way, you and Cris can do whatever you want. I'm warning you. If you don't start thinking of what's best for the WNCS, don't be surprised if you find Veronica's men on your doorstep. Your mother isn't here anymore to protect you and I'm sick and tired of babysitting. Your father may have been ruthless and petty, but he had the respect of the organization because he contributed to its rise. Get that through your thick skull, you twat!"

I already had the Cohens doing the work for me and they were paid graciously for their time. Even my capo, who also handled some of my affairs, was paid graciously for his work.

As I sat alone in the empty viewing room, I thought hard, wondering how all of this could have happened. I came up with one possibility...

*The Cohens*...

Liam was in charge of the delivery. It's possible he was contacted by Alejandro, the underboss of the ENCS. Liam never liked working for me. He was a racist pig who couldn't stand having me order him around.

Working with Alejandro could have been his way of removing me from the picture.

Tsk... tsk... tsk...

Liam has to be taught a lesson. Since I lost my mother, he will have to lose something or someone precious to him too.

There is one person. Someone who will probably give me the high I crave.

It was an obsession, an addiction that was hard to control. Yes, I paid for sex, but it wasn't the same. I needed to be in control. I loved the feeling of being in control. I lived for that feeling.

An image of her pleading and crying flashed in my mind. I felt my heart race and my spine tingle.

I want to hear her scream.

I pulled out my phone and dialed.

"Liam, I need to speak to you. I want to know where your loyalties lie."