Black Hand

1

"Where is the fucking shipment?" I ask, pacing back and forth. The gun in my hand hit against my head. I was starting to get annoyed. It was the first of the month, which means I should be getting a shipment but I have yet to receive it.

"We're trying sir." The clerk has his eyes fixated on the gun I'm holding.

"Try harder!" I slam my hands on the counter. The clerk jumps out of his chair. He quickly types something on the keyboard and pulls up the shipment tracking info.

"It'll be here in 2 minutes." The clerk turns the computer screen so I can see what he sees. His eyes dart between the screen and my eyes. Shaking. The computer chimes. The clerk stands up and holding a chain of several keys he walks out of the building and waits for the truck to back up.

A minute later, the clerk comes back inside and hands me a box. It is a big box, that the clerk was having trouble carrying. At 11x11x7, the box sits at 15.4 pounds. "Sign here." He hands me a clipboard with a pen attached to the clip. I take the pen and sign for the box. With a fake smile, I thank him and walk out of the building. I get inside my black Lamborghini and rip open the box. Inside was 50 pounds of cocaine bricks. Jackpot. Mail carriers have to examine what is inside each package to make sure it is all safe and legal, but I figured out that If I apply a little pressure and get there before they examine the boxes, I can get away with shipping drugs.

I push the power button on the dash of the Lambo. The car roars to life. I keep the colors off, so in the day all you see is a sleek black car. I put the box on the floor of the passenger seat and closed it. After making sure the road was clear, I turn the steering wheel to the left and peel off.

At a stop light, my phone rings. I pull it out of my back pocket and check the caller ID. Det. Hayworth. I swipe right to answer the call and press the speaker button on the screen.

"Hey you got a sec?" Det. Hayworth's voice echos in the car.

I contemplate answering. But it could be information that I need. So, I answer.

"Yeah, what's up?" I flick my turn signal on.

On the other end, I could hear disfigured voices in the background, getting quieter and quieter. Detective Hayworth closed the door to the conference room, to make sure no one is listening to the conversation. I turn the steering wheel right and the turn signal stopped.

"I'm sorry. I don't have any news yet. I have ears out. I hope to get something. But the reason I called... did you threaten a post office clerk?"

Ah fuck. I should have killed him. I left a witness. I did not think he would call the police. But who am I kidding, that is the normal response. I'm just glad Hayworth took the report.

"Maybe. Why? He pressing charges?" I hit the breaks of the car.

"No not pressing charges. He just was worried. Called you 'a crazy guy'." Hayworth sighs.

'Crazy' is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me. I honk my horn. This asshole tries to cut me off. "YOU SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!" I lose temper. No one, I mean no one, touches my car.

"Relax. Drivers are all assholes. Let it go."

I growl. "Only cause I have the city's finest detective on call with me. I can't have you turn me in."

I drive on to the freeway and after merging to the far left lane, I push my foot down on the gas pedal, flooring it. 0 to 150 mph.

"Okay so I'm not writing this incident up. But I need you to calm down. You can't keep threatening him every time a shipment comes in." Hayworth states. "I can't bail you every time. I could lose my job."

That is the last thing I want. Hayworth is the only one who can help me find who killed my mom.

"Okay okay. I won't." I say. "What time are you coming home tonight?"

I hear Hayworth chuckle. I am who I am, but I also have this soft side to me. A side only Hayworth pulls out. Being with Hayworth is like being with mama. Easy, fun, loving. I love mama's laugh and now, with Hayworth, I can feel warm with a laugh again.

"I'll be home for dinner."

I smile. "Good. I miss you."

Hayworth exhales. "I miss you too. You know if people at work found out I'm in bed with the leader of the Black Hand I could lose my job."

I flick the turn signal again, reducing my speed. I switch three lanes, and enter the exit lane. "Nah you like living on the edge."

Four years ago, I was trying to figure out what I could to find my mom's killer. To know why they killed her in cold blood but left me. I met people who took me down a dark path. The violence, the drug trafficking, the terrorizing. I knew it was not a good place to be, but I vowed to myself and to mama that I wasn't going to be weak. I wasn't going to let some thugs beat me up and get away with it. I was going to fight back. Fight for her. The dark path I went on took me to a crime organization operating in New York. In Italy, they were a secret mafia group that dealt in extortions. In the United States, they were in the drug scene. Every major shipment, every major deals, it all went through the Black Hand. As per initiation, I had to make sure a specific shipment of heroin delivered to the right people on time. And to use deadly force if necessary. That first case had me hooked. I never took the drugs we sold, but the whole thing gave me a rush. If going deep in the mafia meant I could get stronger, I was glad to do it. Whatever it took to find out why mama was killed in cold blood. In that quest, I came across a rookie cop. I was a runner for the Black Hand and the cop was fresh out of the academy. Every time I got arrested, or detained, it was that cop. Weeks went by and one day I got detained, but another cop came to take me in. That day I realized I had feelings for the cop. My cop. I purposefully had people call the police on me so I could see that cop again. This was what mama talked about when she told me that one day, I was going to like someone and I was going to do stupid things for them. Getting detained is pretty stupid. Especially for no actual crime at all. Finally, I had the guts to ask the cop out. To my surprise, they said yes. And we'd been together ever since. Even after finding out who I really was. If that's not true love, I don't know what is.