A man, known as family to some and friend to another was near the point of drowning in his own blood with no willpower to fight back, the only thing that his body was able to do was think. What should become of my loved ones? What'll I have been in the end? The only other opposition that his aching body allowed was the cries of pain that echoed throughout the alley as his bones were crushed underneath the pressure of the force of others. There was no one to bear witness of his imminent death that lurked whenever he had the urge to so much as blink, but there was him. The person responsible for his pain, but not his death. He could blame no one but himself that he was about to die, if only he hadn't betrayed the omerta, and for what?
He looked up once more to his technical perpetrator that had a dull look on his face as his ribs were starting to cave in. He took in every aspect of his appearance as it was truly the last thing he'd ever see, from his slicked back auburn hair to his newly polished dress shoes. Everything about this man screamed menacing, and to think that he'd actually defied him had shown how much he'd truly deserved this fate.
He hadn't known that the men had stopped their brutality until their apparent boss had walked towards him, pulled up the legs of his pants and crouched. He had started to speak, but the man on the ground wasn't able to focus on what he was saying, only to the features that were easily perceptible on the 'boss's' face through a certain amount of proximity; there was a slit on the left side of his upper lip on his freshly shaved face that held an even bronze tan and had looked at every rigid angle in his face to his cerulean blue eyes that held no life. It wasn't until his wife's name, Susan, was brought in that he paid mind.
"I'll give Susie your letter of 'resignation' as well as pay my respects to your parents." His voice was monotonous. Their eyes had locked together for what seemed like forever as if he was waiting for a response, which he had no intention of giving or that he could for that fact. The man stood up with a sigh and turned to walk away, his men coming to his side like lap dogs. The man that was left behind could do nothing but look at the sky above as he stepped into the backseat of his Rolls Royce Silver Ghost. His senses and emotions starting to dull along the cool breeze of fall, like being swept away.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the car drive to their next destination, given that they had just beaten a man to death was nothing new, but wasn't something that anyone could get used to. That was until the brunette, that held a certain resemblance to the man in the backseat, in shotgun had spoken up in a certain playful tone that also had concern "Wasn't that kind of cold? I mean even for you Si, you hadn't even said anything other than business to him. Tommy was at least once one of us"
The so called man named 'Si' was sitting in the left side of the backseat with his arm propped up on the car as it gripped his chin while he stared out the window. "The Tommy that I knew died the day that he broke omerta. That person was nothing more than a good for nothing rat." There was nothing else said between the two except the scolding of his nickname that was so openly said.
It was mid evening when they had left from the now red stained alley to what the brunette and Si liked to call home. It was a somewhat rundown wooden cottage with only one door in the front and a porch that could hold as much as eight people in the middle of nowhere but a crops surrounding it. The men had now stepped out of the car to be greeted with a breeze full of dust and dirt, though they paid no mind as it was masked by the smell of Marie's infamous home cooking that leaked from the wooden cottage. They had diligently walked up the stairs and on to the porch that croaked with every step that they took and walked through the screen door that had skidded along the floor. They only had time to take off their jackets and hats when a women, with wavy short dark brown hair and aged green eyes, had already had them in an embrace of which she wouldn't let go until she was fully satisfied. The boys, including the driver, had compliantly agreed to the hug with sincerity.
YOU ARE READING
RED
Historical FictionChicago was a city of temptation, men and women doing as they pleased without a care in the world. Though things like happiness could not be without sacrifice, to which anyone would give up to others indifference. Obstacles would have to be faced an...