The year is 1969 and Elvis Presley is the epitome of success. He's obtained a beautiful wife, fathered an adorable daughter, and his career as an entertainer is at its peak.
To increase his good fortune, his manager has procured him a gig opening a...
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"D'ya think we've given 'em enough time?"
Elvis fiddles with his wedding ring as his leg bounces so quickly he could take flight. He tries to talk his heart into some semblance of calm, but it is thundering away like an unbridled stallion. He shrugs to Jerry's hushed question.
Whether or not Red and Sonny have completed their task, they can't wait any longer. He buries his anxiety and creeps forward, urging his footfalls to be silent. Of course, the plush carpets lining the halls keep him and his entourage unnoticed. Motioning his men behind him, Elvis peers around the wall, careful to only reveal a sliver of his ebony mane. Two men stand outside the doors of his suite, arms crossed and muttering to each other.
Though he sees no sign of weapons, he doubts they are unarmed. The Mafia men are trained killers.
With a nod, Elvis gestures for Jerry to pull down on the white handle which will set off the blaring alarm. In a quick jerk, the lever is activated and a screeching wail fills the halls. Resisting the urge to clamp down his palm over his ears, he sends Jerry a thumbs up for a job well done.
"Now we just gotta wait for them guys to move," he mutters, able to speak since the ear splitting siren is masking any sound he creates.
Vernon nods, pale and nervous at being so near to those who intend to harm Elvis, while Jerry smirks at the chaos he's no doubt caused in the lower levels.
"I always wanted to do that at Holy Names," he explains as the reason for his giddiness.
"That high school ya used to go to?"
"Yeah. Had some cute girls there," he recalls wistfully.
Elvis chuckles. "Yeah, I know. I used to stop by so I could take a peek. Course they were just gigglin' girls. Nothin' like the woman I got now," he murmurs. How his tastes have changed. Rebecca is steady and dependable, loyal and supportive. He'd take her soft-spoken kindness over a brass, flamboyant floozy any day.
His yearning for her builds until it manifests in a low groan, his body and soul aching for her in every way possible. He will see her today. He squirms at the anticipation of holding her against him, getting to bury his face in her neck and inhale her intoxicating scent, and greet those delectable, silk clad lips in a never ending kiss.
And his daughter. Sweet little Annie. He will tuck his small child under his chin and keep her swaddled in the embrace of his arms forever, soothing away her fears with her favorite song and calming strokes to her curly brown top. No man will ever come for them again. He'll kill them first.
Elvis' fist clenches as his jaw tightens at his new determination. It's time to bring them home.
"C'mon, that's plenty of time for 'em to leave. We gotta get that stuff and get out of here before the firemen show up."
The long-legged man sets a fast pace as he hurries to his now unguarded suite and tosses instructions over his shoulder.
"Jerry, grab my guns in case we need 'em. They're in a black suitcase over by the table where I was cleanin' 'em. Daddy, grab some snacks from the kitchen. Bottled water is in the cabinet next to the sink."
