Shadowing Sun

Chapter 2: Wits End

NOTE: sorry it took so long...I'm not very good with boy p.o.v's just trying something different. Comment what you think.

Jake's P.O.V.

Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a God?

Like really think about it....

You could be in control of your own destiny.

And potentially other people's destinies too.

Zip and a Zap there.

Ya dead. Dead as a roach.

You could rule kingdoms, have anything you imagined. No one would dare question you.

Dare challenge you.

All that power...

Power is what its all about right?

I think, in a way, we all strive to be gods and goddesses.

We all hone that hunger for power, and control. These are the things that make the Mafia what it is.

The Sicilian Mafia.

Has been all that I've known.

We gained the status of gods in the most unholy ways, and mark these things as normal. Like a nice warm fucking glass of milk.

Power

Punch

Control

Punch

Extortion

Punch

Murder

Punch

"Hey, hey hey. When are you gonna step away from the punching bag of yours, and put those hands to good use" My father says, puffing on a cigar, leaning against the doorway of our in-house boxing gym.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, giving the hanging sand bag in front of me one last swing before, steadying it.

My wrapped hands, were bloody at the knuckes, and sweat resided on the sore skin of my bare tan body, but the rush I had, made all those things seem small.

I turned to my father, and raised a brow. A questionable one.

"Dont give me that look Mr. You have hands of steal and they are going to waste here" he chuckles. His small old face didn't compare in size to his jet black fedora, the smoke from his cigar running a river like path up into the air.

I shake my head at him, moving for my towel on the bare bench.

"Listen, I only bring it up because your Uncle called" he says inviting himself to sit next to me.

I run a hand through my loose curls with a surprised huff, whipping my neck of sweat.

"Uncle Fabio?" I managed.

My father never fails to be surprised when I speak.

Probably cause it IS rare.

"Yes. Uncle Fabio. He wants to come see you"

I look at him confused. And he raises a dismissive hand at me.

"Yes. Yes. I know he was here last week, but he wants to talk to you about something important kid." He says staring off into the distance.

"So get cleaned up. He's coming over for dinner"

With a slap on the back, my father retreats from the gym, leaving me and my curiosity behind.