ATTACHED

Chapter Twenty Eight : He will never see you as a father...

                          Drumroll pleeeeaseee!!!           

                                   WILLY.

"Hurry the fuck up you two or we're going to be late." I bark at my younger son Dylan and one of my men.

"Relax dad, we still have thirty minutes to go."

"Oh I didn't know that. Why don't we just go back inside and sleep since it's such a looong time away." I say as I roll my eyes.

"I see where my nagging sarcasm comes from." He replies with a shake of his head as he walks ahead carrying his bags.

"Sir, Dome has called to inform he and a few other men will be waiting for us when we land in New York."

"Good. Now get your asses in the car and let's move." I order. We're using the undercover van since we want to stay low-key and avoid any attention but God, it smells awful.  "Dylan did you kill somebody in here or what?" I ask as I scrunch up my face in disgust.

"FYI this van is still in the same shape you gave it to me to use for school so I'm not sure what you're getting at. And anyways, couldn't you have just given me one of your sensible cars or some shit?" He scoffs.

"I could have. Actually I was going to give you one but my mind has officially been changed. This thing smells awful, even the paint on the outside is chipping off. Then you wonder why I give Jr all the good things." A scoff of my own comes out.

I know I went a bit too far but I'm being honest. My son Jr is intelligent, a tech wizard....could hack into anything, is now working in disguise under the Wrigos. He gives me first hand information and as I speak, I know every fucking detail of what the Wrigos are up to. He even worked under the Vice Lords once but then, he had been sent there for intel by the Wrigos which he also shared with me. Such a risktaker, I love that and then there is Dylan. Typical highschool brooding idiot. At times I wonder whether he is actually my son although he is.

"Boss, we're here," I look out to see we have arrived at LAX.

"Carry the bags and let's move it." I order. We're not carrying any weapons with us. Obviously. You can't carry those on a plane or they'll get you and I don't think I'm reading for a round two of prison life. After going through all the procedures, we are on the plane to New York.

"George is going to have the shock of his life." Dylan whispers from where he is seated next to me making me feel a rush of excitement to kill the asshole. If I could just get my hands on him right now. I'm so fucking excited to give him one painfully slow death. He actually thought he would get away with throwing away his right-hand man like some pile of rubbish, after all I did for the douchebag. He's going to get what's coming to him.

"He sure is."

I don't fail to recognise how my voice turns cold. I don't fall asleep due to anticipation even though everyone else doses off. I remember how George and I were the best of friends until he found out the secret. I scoff at the reminiscence. I remember how inseparable we were and not only because I was his right-hand man but also because we were just that close. As much as other people's memories with the ones they were once close to aren't the same as the ones we have from all those years ago, it still had the same effect. Others reminisce on going for hiking, clubbing together, trips and shit but in our case it was different. We killed our enemies together, well George's enemies, we trained together, went on morning runs together, made decisions for the gang together. Admittedly, it still stings that he did that to me but it doesn't end that way. Accepting defeat was never my forté even if I'm the one that was in the wrong, which is why he's going to pay for all he did. What I went through after he threw me out is unheard of. I literally had no life outside gang life.