Family

"I'm not here selling anything," I replied, irritation was quickly taking over the previous emotions I had felt. Looking over the newspaper that absorbed his full attention, the young man continued.

"What are you, a reporter?" He stood up and walked toward the driver side window, the young fool did not even take time to see if I was holding any weapons before he approached the window. "Or a cop?"

"Do I fucking look like a cop? You see a fucking notepad in my hands?"

"Then what the fuck do you want?" He placed his hand on the butt of the weapon holstered on his right hip, small 9mm Berretta that rested there gave him a sense of bravery.

"Just open the fucking gate," I replied as I looked at the young punk, his hand gripped the weapon in preparation to unholster it. I put the truck on park and removed my foot from the break just as he leveled his weapon.

"Do you know where you are at, you dumb fuck?!" He took a step closer to the window, finger on the trigger well and an unsteady base. I almost smiled at how stupid he was, the training for the guards had seriously deteriorated. I gripped the steering wheel with both hands, keeping my breathing steady as he neared the window. As soon as his weapon crossed the window of the truck, I made my move. With my right hand I pinned his weapon hand against the roof of the truck, applying the right amount of pressure on his wrist made his hand release the weapon. Before his mind registered the attack, my left hand reached for the door handle and using my left leg I opened it violently.

The sound of his nose breaking with the impact of the door was only interrupted by the loud scream. A second strike from the door silenced that as well. A third strike and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as darkness took him. I moved to the shack and pressed the button to open the gate, while dropping the magazine and clearing the chamber of the weapon he had so carelessly lost. I managed to pull the truck past the gate just before it closed, and I had parked the vehicle before anyone took notice of me. I took the three bottles from the seat and stood outside of the vehicle, leaning on the bed of the truck I opened the first beer while I waited for the welcome committee.

"Two minutes," I said as the six well-armed man men approached all, weapons drawn and leveled at me. They moved out of sync, completely unorganized, but at least they moved toward the same person at least. I told them as much.

"You need to put your hands up, asshole," one of the men said, this was the only one that had the perfect base and a good shooter's stance. "Real slow, and tell me what kind of death wish you have to come in here the way you did."

"I'm here to see your boss," I replied as I sipped the beer in my hand, it was nearly empty. I slowly finished the last of the liquid in the bottle before tossing it casually on the bed of the truck. Moving slowly, I reached into my pocket and drew the pack of cigarettes out while I kept my eyes on the single man that seemed to have some training.

"I don't remember your name on the appointment book," he sneered.

"Don't remember any of you assholes asking for my name," I smiled, popped the cap off the second beer and took a long and satisfying drag from the bottle. The beer was losing its refreshing coolness with the heat of the day, after a loud burp, I took another long sip, nearly finishing the second beer.

"I gotta give it to you," the same man continued, "you got guts. What the fuck do you want?"

"I need to see your boss," I answered, the tone of my voice meant to deliver nothing more than complete coolness in the situation. "Now, you are either gonna walk with me inside," I continued, "or I am gonna sit here, finish my last beer, and then I'll be walking in by myself." I pulled my coat to the side so that they could see the sidearm resting there, my ever present 40 Smith and Wesson. "A few bullets lighter, but alone nonetheless. Your move, gentlemen."

"There is six of us..." one of the men said before being interrupted by the only one that actually impressed me. Without muttering a word or making a single motion, he silently ordered the man that had tried to sound tough to talk to someone on the radio.

"Good choice," I chuckled as I tossed the second empty bottle in the bed of the truck and reached for the third one. "Well, ain't no use in wasting a perfectly good beer, wouldn't you say?" I tipped the bottle in his direction, just as the second man once again interrupted.

"He is still... entertaining his guest," the man replied sheepishly.

"Well then," I laughed, "perfect timing, wouldn't you say?" I handed my half-drunk beer to the radioman as I buttoned my coat. "Now, shall we?" I moved past the surprised men toward the large door. A few years before, the family had placed a security panel that was code protected in order to prevent unauthorized entry into this particular section of the house. As I punched the code in, the surprise of the men that were following me did not go unnoticed. "Some things never change," I said as the lock moved out of place and the door slowly opened.

"Who are you?" The first man said as I moved into the house, the layout of the living room had not changed in the last years, even the small stains on the walls from the children drawing almost made it feel like a home.

I smiled at him, a grin that I am sure that made me look like a school child. I pointed at the hall just past the main stairs, "this way, I'm guessing?" I knew the room that was at the end of the hall, I had sat there many timed alongside my brother as we listened to my Uncle give us lessons on the family business. As I continued walking, they all followed. I was looking at the familiar pictures that hung on those walls, all from our family as we all grew up. Generations smiled at us as we walked down the hall, before we reached the door I could hear the arduous entertainment that prevented my cousin from opening the door to a visitor.

"Maybe we should..." the radioman said. Using the weight of my body and the strength of my legs accumulated over the years in countless battlefields, I easily kicked the door open. The cracking wood prevented him from finishing his statement, but it did not seem to have been loud enough to stop the spectacle before us. In front of us was my cousin, Jose, with his pants around his ankles sweat pouring from his face, his loud grunts sounding like he would fall over and faint at any moment. He was violently driving his cock in and out of a woman's asshole. She was bent over the large mahogany desk with her panties handing in front of her hairy pussy. Jose had clearly ripped them off her, whether in lust or anger I was unsure.

"Si, si, papi, damelo mas duro. Metemela en el culo," she screamed as he continued his pile driving. Her ass cheeks were red, clear hand prints would make her have some difficulties sitting down, her skirt rested on her lower back. He had also torn open her shirt and pulled her bra over her tits, the engorged globes swayed back and forth in rhythm to his movements. Her nipples were large, dark, and faint stretch marks covered them; the breasts of a mother. Her poorly highlighted hair had long black roots where once, golden streaks must have framed her pretty face. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Knock, knock," I said as the door crashed on the wall, the sound of my voice finally interrupting the cocoon of bliss that had clearly enveloped them. As recognition took over, his concentration was interrupted and his shrinking cock began to spew lines of cum on her back. While his reaction was comical, the outright fear in her face spoke more about me to my silent companions than the name spoken by Jose.

"Deamon," he said with a voice just above a whisper. "What...what...?"

"Clean yourself up," I looked at the girl, disgust and contempt shooting daggers with every word into the woman, "and get out." I looked at my cousin, the tone on my voice did not falter, "pull your fucking pants up and compose yourself, Jesus Christ, you look like a fucking hoodlum." I moved to the wall and with a flip of a switch, I brought to life the large overhead fan in order to clear the room of the smell that threatened to impregnate my clothing.

"You should have called," Jose said, bravado returning to his voice as he smugly looked at me. His confidence built around the fact that the six guards that had followed me were still in the room. "I could have..."

"Take the whore out of here," I looked at two of the guards that were having difficulties peeling their eyes off the woman, "give her your jacket so she can cover herself up." Without hesitation, one of the men took his jacket off and handed it to the woman, her gratitude remained silent as she donned it in order to save whatever modesty and pride that remained. Again, I reached into my pocket and drew my pack of cigarettes, I needed to mask the scent in the room further.

"If there isn't anything else," the man that had impressed me so far interrupted the awkward silence that was threatening to descend on the room, "we'll be going back to our positions."

"What's your name?" I looked at the man, "what branch?"

"Francisco," he replied, "United States Marines. Ten years, five tours."

"Semper Fi, Devil Dog," I looked at him, "did my brother hire you?"

"Yes, sir."

"What is your position?"

"Just another guard," he replied as he began to move outside.

"Who's the Chief of Security?" I asked, before he could answer I held my hand up, "doesn't matter, bring him here. Double time."

"Sir," he said as the remaining guards rushed out of the room, confused as to what we had just spoken.

"Who was the whore?" I asked my cousin as we remained alone in the room, the sounds of shuffling feet steadily moving away from us. "She looked familiar."

"Uh?" Jose was still reeling from the sudden departure of his security guards, "oh, yeah that was Jessica. She went to school with you, heard my dad say that you had a crush on her back in the day."

"No," I replied, while I was attracted to her in a physical way, and my body certainly had lusted for her, there was little more that I wanted from her. After seeing her as I had just a few minutes ago, whatever little desire I could have possibly held for her was completely burned off. "I thought she had married some football player."

"Yeah," he replied as he lit a cigarette of his own, "she came back a few months ago, with a kid. I've been helping her get back on her feet." He caught himself after the words had escaped from his mouth.

"Clearly," I replied, "don't bring her here anymore. If you want to fuck her like a whore, pay for a room to do it in." Before he could reply, Francisco returned with another man behind him. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Chief of Security," the man replied, "name is..."

"Two minutes." I looked at his eyes, peering into his weak soul as I spoke, "it took your guards two minutes after I had already made my way past the single guard you left at the gate. The single guard who I disarmed and knocked out in a matter of seconds." He tried to stammer through excuses, words unable to take form. "Not to mention the piss poor training that the so called security forces that you have designed to protect the interior grounds, with one exception." I looked at Francisco as I said the last part.

"But..but...sir..." in the blink of an eye, I had drawn my own pistol and held it an inch away from the center of his head. Jose jumped back, Francisco remained still, eyes fixed on me. The smell of urine helped mask the stench of my cousin's bodily fluids.

"Francisco," my hand remained steady as I spoke, "congrats. You're the new Chief of Security. Make sure that our newest recruit has clean uniforms. Check supplies, inventory, weapons, and men. Make adjustments as you see fit." I looked at the former Chief, "do we have an issue with that?" He shook his head without taking his eyes off the barrel of my pistol. "Good. Three hours." I lowered my weapon and returned it to the holster as the man took a deep breath.

"Wait, wait, wait," Jose stammered, "just what are you doing?"

"The head of the family, my brother, is currently under federal custody." My eyes bore down on him, my voice increasing in volume as I continued, "the family house is poorly protected. There is little to no family here." I took a step toward him, he began to back away, "the self-appointed leader of the family is too busy fucking his whores in the main office, where ALL family business is discussed, to welcome a visitor or even respond to a great security breach!" He began to cower as I closed the distance between him and I, I could smell the lingering smoke in his breath, with a deadly calm voice I concluded, "little cousin, I'm cleaning your fucking mess."

"But, you walked away..." he whined.

"And yet, here I am," I replied, moving toward the large leather chair that served as the perfect complement to the large desk, "if my family did not desperately need me, I wouldn't be here. Tell me where we stand, little cousin. We have three hours to burn." We talked for the entire time we sat across from one another, mainly I was asking questions regarding the many business enterprises that I remembered, and listened to his news. My brother had been in jail for a few months before I made it into town, Angel's appearance made more sense. In that time, my cousin had managed to almost fuck up every single business, costing the family a lot of money.

"Your brother was trying to expand the business into the weapons market," Jose began explaining the reason behind my brother's arrest, "it was after the second or third large purchase that he got busted. The only details that I have heard are that there was a shootout between Angel and the former Chief of Security against the weapon dealers just as the feds popped up. Angel was at least smart enough to not turn his weapons against the feds, but they had what they needed."

"Who do you think they were after?" I meant to ask that question to myself, trying to begin putting the entire situation together. Jose looked at me in confusion, "the feds. They were there because someone informed them of the deal that was taking place."

"But they didn't get there until after the shooting began," Jose asked, I could see the wheels turning inside his head, whether he was putting the same pieces together or if he was trying to figure out what I was thinking I was not sure.

"You're right," I replied, "oh well, too bad there aren't any people we could ask about it, huh?" I smiled at him, his face twisted in a strange reaction. Was it fear? Francisco's return interrupted our conversation.

"Guards are in place," Francisco said as he looked at me, "all equipment is secured. I've made a list of additional guards we will need in order to fill gaps in the shifts, also to replace the few that are beyond incompetent." He handed me a piece of paper then continued, "also, I have some ideas of additional training to make sure all the boys are on level footing."

"Get something together," I replied without taking the paper, "select as many leads as you think are necessary and get it done. Did you know the former Chief of Security?"

"Yes," Francisco said, his face falling into a frown as depression took hold of him. "My brother."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, turned him to face me, "I'm sorry," I said as the tears pooled in his eyes. "Tell me about him." I led him to one of the chairs and forced him to sit down, while I moved to the liquor cabinet and poured two drinks.

"He was six years older than me," Francisco began, "joined the Marines as soon as he finished school. I followed him when I graduated, this was his last port when he met your brother. The two hit it off and your brother offered him a job. When I finished my contract, he asked me to come here and work for your brother. My first day on the job, my brother told me that I would start at the bottom. Any shitty job, it was mine by default."

"As it should be," I replied, bringing a chuckle to Francisco's lips.

"He was there with your brother," he said, a tone of pride in his voice, "he would have followed Angel to hell without being asked."

"Couldn't ask more from a Devil Dog," I replied extending my hand to him, "I only hope I can inspire just as much loyalty. Is there any other family?"

"My sister in law," he replied, "I've been looking out for her as much as I can..."

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at Jose with renewed anger.

"Well," he continued, "without my brother's income, she has been struggling making ends meet. She had to move into a shitty apartment so that she could make it without depending on me. She flat out refused any money from me, since I already send most of my paycheck to my folks."

"I see," Jose cowered as my stare burned into his soul, "Francisco, have you ever heard the term: ordo ad fratres faciendum?" When he shook his head, I continued looking at my cousin, "don't worry about it, it's part of an old Sicilian tradition. Nothing to concern yourself with, my friend." I moved toward my cousin, who wisely moved as far out of the way as he could.

"Is there anything else you need me to take care of?" Francisco asked, clearly confused by my cousin's movements.

"Yes," I replied, "as a matter of fact, there is. My dear cousin here has guards assigned to him as temporary head of the family, I presume?" He nodded, "how many guards?"

"Six," Francisco replied.

"How many does his dear wife have assigned to her?" I looked at Jose, he had long ago lost the color on his face, but somehow he managed to become more pale.

"Um," Francisco replied, "none, sir."

"Your parents have none either," Jose replied, some way to justify his lack of concern for his dear wife.

"You're right," I replied, "so your wife has skills with a concealed weapon that she carried at all times, just like my father does. And I suppose that your house is now surrounded by a large wall, much like their house is, correct?" Jose remained mute, "Francisco, grab a few of the boys, we need to make sure that my beloved cousin's wife is well guarded, so she will be moving here."

"Yes, sir."

"Also," I continued, "you're going to have an extra six sets of hands to place as you see fit. My cousin is right, his house is plenty protected so he will not need his personal security escort while he stays there."

"Wait..." Jose began to protest, however a single finger from my hand told him that it would be a mistake to finish his sentence.

"I'm sure that Edith will sleep better at night under guard," I continued, "and considering that little show you had going on with Jessica a few hours ago, I'm sure that you haven't been home for a few."

"Yes, sir," Francisco smiled as he left the office, my look dared my cousin to protest more.

"Get the family together," I told him as I moved back to the chair, "don't tell them I am back in town. Just tell them you are calling a family meeting for tomorrow at noon. Call your wife, tell her that we will be visiting tonight, I could use a good home cooked meal." As he started to walk out of the office, I said "you broke this family's oath, little cousin," he had stopped in his tracks when I said those words. "Blood was spilled on our behalf, and you ignored it. I won't forget it."

...

"D!" The tiny body launched itself against me. The smell of her perfume was as intoxicating as it had been so many years before. Edith was a beautiful woman, standing as just over five feet, with long, brown hair. Her tiny almond shaped eyes revealed a hint of Asian heritage, her skin tone was always a bronze that many women paid large amounts of money to emulate. The sound of her voice would put a choir of angels to shame.