Enforcer: A Prequel Novella to the New Mafia Trilogy (2 page)

Exhaustion had set in by the time I got back to my studio
apartment, which was basically a glorified closet. The window unit air conditioner
wheezed out enough cold air, despite its death rattle, providing a much needed
respite from the summer heat. The Murphy bed was still pulled down from the
wall, my sheets and blanket in disarray. I lived alone and all of my friends
from Drexel had gone back home for the summer. While I should have gone home
too, especially to keep my little sister Natalie out of trouble, I couldn’t
bring myself to go back to York. The construction job was a blessing in
disguise and since I was majoring in structural engineering, it gave me much
needed experience. I stared down at the dried blood embedded around my nails,
evidence of a different kind of experience. Grabbing a towel from the hook on
the back of the bathroom door, I stripped off my battered jeans and stepped
into the stand-up shower.

Despite being drained from being in the heat all day, I
cranked the hot water. My muscles were beginning to tighten after the fight and
needed to loosen up. I rolled my shoulders under the stream and hung my head to
relieve tension in my neck. The water made me aware of every cut and scrape on
my skin. Blood mixed with dirt rinsed down the drain in a pinkish brown stream.
That’s when it really hit me: I killed a man and wrapped him up in plastic to
be disposed of like a piece of trash. My knees threatened to go soft, so I
leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the vinyl wall of the shower and
took a few deep breaths. Rico had offered no real explanation, just handled it
like it was a common occurrence and handed me a wad of cash.

Who the fuck was I working for?

After the shower, I stood in front of the bathroom sink and
looked in the partially fogged up mirror. Steam swirled around making it even
more difficult to assess the damage my body had sustained. Wiping a spot of the
mirror clear, I leaned forward to examine my face, which had been on the
receiving end of several solid punches.

A cut over my eye that was partially concealed by my eyebrow
had stopped bleeding, but was puffy and red. My lower lip was split and stung
every time I moved my mouth. My right cheekbone was slightly bruised, but it
didn’t feel like any facial bones were broken. I looked down at my torso. Any
cuts and scrapes were minor, mainly surface injuries. A sharp pain grabbed at
my side whenever I took a deep breath making me suspect I had a bruised rib or
two. My final assessment: I was young, healthy and in the best shape of my life
- I would heal and it could have been fucking worse.

I left the bathroom, hanging my towel back on the hook and walked
into my bedroom/living room naked; coming to a stop in front of the air
conditioner. I let the cold air blast my damp bare skin. Usually after an
adrenaline rush and a hot shower, I was ready for a nap, but not this time. I
was too keyed up in anticipation for the meeting. I dug a joint out of my
backpack, a spare left over from my old roommate and got nice and stoned. Kevin
had introduced me to weed the previous year, when we were freshman. I had never
smoked before, but found it useful when I needed to mellow out. Killing a
person qualified as one of those times.

It was ten minutes before eleven when the cab pulled up in
front of Crimson.  The line of people waiting to get in stretched around the corner,
but following Rico’s instructions, I walked right up to the doorman who was
checking IDs and patting people down. His dark hair was slicked back and the
black t-shirt he wore stretched tight over his bulk. He ignored me at first
since two fucking hotter than hot chicks were standing in front of him, practically
shoving their tits in his face while he checked their drivers’ licenses. Their
skirts barely covered their asses and they wore shirts that were so skintight,
they might as well have had no clothes on, for it didn’t take much to imagine
how they’d look naked and sprawled out on my bed.

They moved on with a giggle, balancing precariously on
ridiculous heels. The doorman and I watched them walk away, taking advantage of
the view. For a brief moment we weren’t strangers, but brothers bonding over a
shared appreciation. Once the girls were inside and out of sight, he turned to
me.

          “What do you want?”

          “I’m here to meet with Rico Grabano. He told me to
come to you.”

The bouncer reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell
phone. “Your name?” he asked.

          “Grant Ross.”

He texted someone and seconds later he got a response. With
a grunt, he put his phone back then stepped aside to let me through. “Rico’s
sitting in VIP. It’s towards the back of the club and you can’t miss it; just
look for the elevated area full of people looking down on the rest.”

He let me pass without asking to see my ID. I didn’t
question it. I walked through the front doors to be immediately swallowed up by
a pulsating beat. I went up to the cashier, who could have been a model, to pay
the cover charge.

          “No charge for you hon, you’re Rico’s guest,” she
looked me up and down the same way I had checked out the girls earlier. I was
wearing dark denim jeans and green dress shirt, the only nice shirt I owned,
but the way she was eying me I felt naked.

          “Thanks,” I said. Walking away the most confident
nineteen year old guy on the planet, I made my way into the club.

The place was packed and hot; a sultry, tropical heat that
amplified the ever present sour sweet smell of booze. Sweaty bodies pressed
against each other on the dance floor, writhing together, reminding me of a pit
of snakes. Strobe lights bounced over faces, making them appear featureless in
the dizzying pattern of light and shadow.

I spotted the VIP section and because of my size, didn’t
have to push through the crowd. People moved out of my way except for a few
women who tried to grind up on me. A bouncer stood at the bottom of a short set
of stairs leading to the VIP section. He held a muscular arm out, effectively
blocking my progress.

          “I’m here to meet with Rico,” I said, quickly
scanning the area, recognizing the back of Rico’s head by the thick salt and
pepper hair.

          “And you are?” the bouncer asked in a bored voice
like he heard this explanation all the time.

          “Grant Ross.”

He didn’t say anything else, just stepped aside and let me
pass. I took the stairs two at a time and approached the table where Rico was
sitting with a group of men. One of the men, who looked like an older, heavier
version of Rico, had a woman on his lap. His dark eyes watched me approach and
he nodded across the table to Rico who turned to look. When he saw me, he
smiled and waved me over. Moving down a chair, he freed up the seat next to
him, gesturing for me to sit.

          “Grant, these are my brothers, Marco and Al.” Rico
introduced me to the heavyset man first. I stood up slightly and leaned forward
to shake hands, avoiding knocking over pint glasses, shot glasses and martini
glasses that cluttered the tabletop, some empty and others full. “This is the
kid I was telling you about who helped me out this afternoon.” I looked at Rico
and he must have seen the confusion on my face for he winked.

          “Is that right?” Marco asked, turning his dark
eyes on me. They were inky black with bloodshot whites and were devoid of
emotion. At least the guy I fought and killed had let his intent show on his
face and in his eyes. Marco was hard to read and the longer he stared at me,
the more uncomfortable I became. When I looked down at my hands on the table,
Marco chuckled. “Thanks for helping Rico out. I heard he compensated you well?”

          “Yes, sir,” I met his gaze again briefly before
glancing at Rico. “He was more than generous.”

Marco told the woman on his lap to go dance and smacked her
ass as she left.  A waitress came around to take my drink order. Rico nodded at
me so I ordered a Yuengling lager and she didn’t question it or ask to see my
license. Once the waitress had dropped my drink off at the table, Marco leaned
forward, his meaty hands spread out in front of him. “Was this the first man
you killed?” he asked.

Practically choking on my beer, I set the glass down and glanced
around to see if anyone had heard his question. No one seemed to be paying
attention and with another nod of his head, Rico encouraged me to respond.
“Yeah,” I answered, rubbing the back of my neck to release some of the tension.

          “Yet you seem pretty rock solid right now, not
curled up in ball crying like a fucking baby or confessing to the cops.”

I shrugged and took gulp of beer. The cold liquid felt so
good slipping down my dry throat that I drained half the pint. Setting the
glass down, I met Marco’s stare. “It was either him or me and I’m glad it
wasn’t me,” I said.

          “Interesting. I could use a man like you within my
organization, Grant.”

          “What organization is that?”

          “A family business,” he said, signaling to the
waitress to bring us another round. The sleeve of his suit jacket pulled back
revealing a shiny Rolex. “Rico told me a little bit about your background and
that you could use some extra cash. Is that right?”

I’d yet to meet anyone who had a perfect childhood, me
included. My dad left when I was eight and my sister Natalie was five. He
ditched us and ran off to Texas to start a new family. My mom mentally checked
out for a while and never quite made it all the way back, forcing me to take
care of Natalie. Money was always tight and we never bought brand name
anything, not even for groceries. I was barely scraping by paying for college
and would be in debt up to my ass by the time I graduated.

          “Yeah, that’s right. What do you have in mind?”         

          “Meh,” he said with a shrug, “Little jobs here and
there plus helping Rico out after hours. Think you can handle it?”

          “Sure, sounds good.”

Marco smiled, causing his round cheeks to bunch up,
practically swallowing up his fathomless eyes and we shook hands, sealing the
deal. Little did I know that handshake was also sealing my fate.

Not only was I a newb, but an outsider. I wasn’t family and
didn’t grow up in South Philly. My hometown, York, Pennsylvania, might as well
have been another country. While Rico trusted me, Marco’s trust was something I
had to earn, so he started me out at the bottom. Much like with the
construction job, I was given grunt work…and my own gun.

At first I was sent to collect money from various corner
bars that had mini slot machines. Technically these were illegal, but I learned
there were a lot of blind spots in the city as far as law enforcement was
concerned.

Usually the take at each establishment ranged from $500-$800
a week, so by the time I was done with my weekly rounds, the collections
totaled close to ten grand. While this was a shit ton of money for me, it was
pocket change for Marco. I didn’t dare skim anything off the top though,
because he counted every penny. I also didn’t want to end up part of a
building’s foundation somewhere encased in concrete or wherever they disposed
of bodies.

In addition to slot machines, Marco also ran several illegal
gambling houses in the city. With the recession in full swing, these places
were seeing an increase in demand by desperate people. Now, I wasn’t an idiot
and knew after I killed the man, that Rico was involved in dealings not quite
on the up and up, but the money was good and the adrenaline rush of walking
into potentially dangerous situations addicting. Hanging out at Crimson and
having access to lots of pussy was pretty fucking sweet too.

When the summer drew to a close, I returned to school, but
didn’t go back to the dorms. I stayed in my studio and still tried to be
involved in college life, but the longer I worked for the Grabanos, the more
difficult it became to balance.

One cool Saturday night, the first to hold the promise of fall
in the air, I met up with Kevin, my roommate from freshman year.  He was in a
fraternity and there was a party that night at his frat house. Marco and Rico
hadn’t called me in for any jobs, so I decided to go check out the scene.

Every window in the house was lit up and the bass from the
music blaring inside sent vibrations through the porch floorboards. I paid five
bucks at the door and stepped inside to drunken chaos. Music, people yelling
over the music and cheers from a chugging competition assaulted my senses. 

          “Dude, you made it!” Kevin yelled at me before
descending a set of stairs that led to the brothers’ rooms. He stumbled down
the last two steps, clearly already pretty wasted and gave me a big bro hug,
sending beer sloshing over the sides of his red plastic cup and down his arm. He
had a joint tucked behind his ear, which was part of Kevin’s standard uniform.

          “Come on, the keg’s over here.” He dragged me past
the living room, empty of furniture and full of girls dancing to Beyonce’s
latest hit. I noticed one girl in particular checking me out. She stood off to
the side of the “dance floor” twirling a strand of her long blonde hair around
a finger. She moved seductively to the beat and I slowed to watch, holding her
gaze as she rocked her hips. Kevin appeared at my side and handed me a beer. He
saw who I was looking at and grinned.

          “Guaranteed a good time there, brother,” he said.
“That’s Audra and she isn’t shy.”

I drained my cup, giving it back to Kevin, and walked over
to Audra. Using the belt loops on her short denim shorts, I pulled her closer
and she smiled, placing her hands against my chest. She traced my pecs with her
forefinger while licking her lips. It was always that easy. My sister hated it
when we were in high school how girls threw themselves at me. She would
definitely be rolling her eyes at this scene.

Just then the song ended and the next one that came on made
Audra grin. She moved in closer and started grinding up on me. She turned so
her ass was pressed against my groin and she began to move. Every time the
singer said to “smack that” she spanked herself. With my hands on her hips, I
started moving with her.

          “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just
happy to see me?” she purred and turned around, sliding a hand down to make a
grab at my junk. Fortunately for Audra, I had left my gun in the glove
compartment of my car, so I didn’t discourage her from touching.

          “Why don’t we go upstairs and find out,” I said.

          “Mmmm, yeah, I’d like that.” She stood up on her
tip toes to kiss me, but I still towered over her so I leaned forward, meeting
her lips halfway. She instantly opened her mouth to me and I slipped my tongue
in, tasting the sweetness of cinnamon. I broke away and she smiled up at me.

          “Audra, right?” She nodded and brushed her hand
across my growing erection. “I’m Grant. Now you know what name to call out when
I make you come.” She gasped and then giggled. I grabbed Audra’s hand and looked
around for Kevin. He was over by the large ice block pouring shots of cinnamon
liquor into an Asian girl’s mouth. I gestured to him and he gave me a
thumbs-up. I led Audra upstairs and down the hall, past a line for the
bathroom, to Kevin’s bedroom. I pushed the door open. His room was dark except
for the light on his fish tank. Since Kevin and I lived together in the dorms
freshman year, I knew better than to try to navigate in the dark. Sure enough,
when I flipped the light switch, a cluttered floor was revealed. Shoes, jeans,
textbooks and a number of energy drink cans littered the stained carpet.

Kevin let me use his room for hook ups like this with the
understanding that I use the sofa and not his bed. Kevin shared the room with
another brother, but he was the DJ and I knew we’d have the room to ourselves
for as long as the music kept playing. I shut the door and locked it. Spinning
Audra around, pressing her back against the door, I kissed her. She responded
by arching against me and twisting her fingers through my hair.

Running my hand down her right side, I squeezed her hip
before traveling back up and palming her breast. She moaned when I pulled on
her nipple and discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath her thin shirt.
Her response combined with the lack of barrier was all the encouragement I
needed. 

          “Audra, are you ready for me?” I asked, leading
her over the plaid sofa with frayed arms that had clearly seen better days, or
a lot of action, depending on how you looked at it.

She willingly lay down on the sofa, pulling me on top of
her. I settled between her thighs and gave her a light thrust, just a tease.
She moaned and bit her lip, spreading her legs wider – an invitation. Within
seconds both of our shirts were on the floor. Audra had a great pair of tits
with dark pink nipples standing at attention. I took one in my mouth and
sucked, hard. She arched, shoving her breasts in my face, while struggling with
getting my jeans unbuttoned.

She let out a frustrated groan and fell back against the
sofa, whimpering. “I want you in me now.”  She didn’t have to tell me twice.
Audra lifted her hips so I could pull her shorts off. Then I stood up and
stepped out of my jeans, grabbing a condom out of the right back pocket first. Standing
next to the sofa, Audra wrapped a hand around my dick, stroking its throbbing
length. I handed her the condom and watched as she rolled it on. I settled
between her thighs again and when I pushed inside her, she cried out my name,
wrapping her legs around my waist.

I pulled back out and just as I was poised to thrust in
again, my phone started ringing from within the pile of clothes on the floor.
“Fuck!” I groaned, but chose to ignore it as Audra rose to meet me. I pounded
into her and she tightened her hold on me.

          “God damn it!” I pulled out and found my phone in
one of the front pockets of my jeans. “This is Grant,” I answered, panting.

          “It’s Rico. Listen, some shit went down tonight.
We need muscle so Marco had me call you. We need you here now.”

I sat down on the end of the sofa and looked over at Audra.
She was watching me with half lidded eyes while playing with herself. “What
happened?” I asked, hoping that if it wasn’t too serious, I could finish things
with Audra.

          “Al was hit,” Rico said and his voice cracked.
“It’s not critical, but we know who did it and need to act fast.”

Shit, it was serious. I groaned and rubbed the back of my
neck already thinking about my exit. “Where are you?”

Rico read off an address before ending the call. I stood up
and started getting dressed.

          “Wait, you’re leaving?” Audra asked, sitting up on
the sofa.

          “Yeah, I’m sorry. Trust me, I don’t want to leave
things unfinished, but that was my boss and there’s an emergency. I gotta go.” 

          “What kind of job is this? I don’t understand.”

          “It doesn’t matter, I need to go.”

          “You’re just going to leave?” She said, her voice
rising to a screech as she crossed her arms over her naked breasts.

          “If it wasn’t important I wouldn’t be walking away
mid-fuck. Now stay put, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”  I said with a
wink before leaving the room. I heard something hit the door right after I
closed it. I hurried down the stairs, the music getting louder with each step.
Kevin caught up to me as I was getting ready to walk out the front door.

          “Hey man, you out already? That was quick.” He said
with a smirk.

          “Yeah, my boss called me.”

          “Since when does an entry level construction job
require being on call and at night?”

          “I’ll tell you later,” I said, giving me time to
make some bullshit story up. “I gotta go. Audra’s all warmed up if you’re
interested.” One thing I learned from living with Kev, was that he had a bit of
a freak flag and he wasn’t afraid to fly it. He tried to get me in on some
three-way action on more than one occasion and I knew he wouldn’t mind finishing
Audra off.

          “Really?” He raised his eyebrow, his blue eyes
glittering with anticipation. “See ya later, man.” He clapped me on the back
and made his way to the stairs. I chuckled and shook my head then left to go
meet Rico.

I left the happy chaos of the frat party to arrive at a
different kind of chaos that made me forget all about Audra’s hot little body.
The South Philly address Rico had given me was for a corner bar and I had to
park further down the street. Walking up, I ignored a group of nosy neighbors
who had gathered to watch. Flashing blue lights added to the surreal moment of
me willingly entering a crime scene as an associate of the Grabano crime family.
Only one cop car was there and I found Rico laughing with two cops. After
spotting me, he waved me over.

          “Officers, this is Grant and he’s one of our
boys.”

Surprisingly, they each shook my hand and introduced
themselves. I hung back while Rico finished talking. Moments later the cops
were gone and with their departure, the nosy neighbors moved on. While a lot of
blood stained the concrete sidewalk in front of the bar, Rico assured me that
Al was fine. The bullet had grazed his scalp, breaking the skin open enough to
bleed like a son of a bitch.

          “So, you said you know who did this?” I asked.

          “Yeah. Let’s go inside.”

We entered the near empty bar. Two guys stood around a pool
table in the corner. They quickly looked away when we walked in. We sat down at
the counter on bar stools so used the varnish had worn off in the shape of ass
prints. Except for a man who was listing to the side, about ready to pass out,
nobody else sat at the bar. After ordering us each a round of scotch, Rico lit
a cigar and took a few puffs before filling me in on what went down. “Al
recognized the colors on the bandana the shooter was wearing – it was the
Kings.”

          “What colors do they wear again?” I was still on a
learning curve for all of the street gangs in the city. This wasn’t something
they taught at Drexel.

          “Black and gold, they love their fucking black and
gold. Just like those Steelers pussies.”

          “Why did they try to take out Al?”

          “The Kings have been trying to get in on our game
and started running heroin where they used to just be into crack and meth.
Marco hasn’t considered them much of a threat, but now… now he’s pissed.”

At that moment, the door opened and two hulking figures filled
the dim entryway. Reinforcements had arrived. After Anthony “The Giant” and
Joey B., I was the third biggest enforcer and Marco had called us all in to
take a message to the Kings.

We all piled into an old custom van with limo tint windows.
The license plate was caked in mud, obscuring its numbers. Anthony drove and I
sat in one the captain’s chairs behind his seat. Our mission was taking us out
of Philly and an hour and a half northwest to Bethlehem, a usually quiet city
which had recently become a hub for the Latin Kings.

It was close to three in the morning by the time we rounded
the corner into the supposed gang leader’s or “First Crown’s” neighborhood.
Anthony slowed down and shut the headlights off, pulling over to the curb a few
homes down from the address Rico had provided. We watched and waited for
activity, any sign that the Kings were there. Our instructions were to take out
as many as possible. We were exterminators getting ready to invade a nest. It
was moments like this, where I was checking and double checking my gun in
preparation that I wondered: what the hell I was doing? I had a plan; I was in
college studying to become an engineer. How the fuck did I wind up here?
Adrenaline pounded through my veins, the anticipation of laying a beating on
someone reminded me of the thrill of playing football, of winning and
dominating. This in itself was an addictive feeling; one I thought for sure was
left behind when I graduated high school and turned in my helmet and pads for
the last time.