What Do We Do Now?

Sixth

Benedict

“I want this done today. Arthur will come by to make sure.”

“Yes, sir.” Luca says curtly.

I drop the call and sigh. I’ve been trying to keep away from this side of the business because it brings out my not so great qualities. Luca is my muscle, not that I can’t do it myself. On the contrary, I was made for it. I craved the violence, which is why as much as possible I don’t put myself in situations where I can be tempted. Thus, Luca.

I hate this town. It’s a rat trap for well, rats and I don’t want to be a rat anymore. I tried to leave and I would have been gone for good if it wasn’t for her. She’s the reason I’m here and stuck in this hell hole. For now. Adding “for now” always makes me feel better.

“Arthur.” I call.

He looks at me to signal that he’s listening.

“Drive to the city and stop by the casino tonight. See if Owl gets the message. 

Owl is the lucky motherfucker getting a personal message from me today. I’ve been trying to be less and less involved in the operations so whether the Owl will be monetarily or physically dealt with will depend on how Luca interprets his actions. And depending on how Luca carries this out I will name him my successor and finally start a new life. Naming a successor at my age will be a feat. I wonder how everyone’s going to take it.

“Yes, Patron.” Arthur answers, breaking me out of my reverie.

I throw him daggers with my eyes. He knows fully how much it irks me to be called by that stupid title but Arthur wasn’t anything if not traditional. 

I am the current benefactor for underground dealings in the city. This is the legacy I was left with when the original patron passed away. 

All this came to be because of my disdain for the simple life that my parents were living. I was always an ambitious child and when it became apparent that I was not going to achieve the lavish lifestyle I dreamed of by taking over my father’s ice cream shop, I decided to make my own way.

Why in the hell would I suffer through school to f*****g end up selling ice cream.

I left home, got picked up by a gang, and through the years of escalating from petty thievery and pushing drugs to organizing drops and weapons dealing I somehow proved myself to be smart enough and a fierce enough fighter to eventually be the leader’s favorite. I am also the reason why this town is riddled with criminals and junkies. A story I don’t like to tell. It no longer resembles the quaint little residential area it used to be.

My anger issues and penchant for violence propelled me to where I am now. When the patron died, I was his right hand man. He was getting old and seeing as I had already grown beyond what he had achieved in his entire lifetime, he named me his successor. No one questioned his decision. I had already proven myself by that time and they were all afraid of me. Arthur started calling me patron right at the funeral.

I remember him saying to me, “They need to see you for who you are now, Benedict.”

I reveled in the power at the beginning but achieving all you want in life makes you see things in a different perspective.

“They need to see me for who I am.” I scoff when I repeat Arthur’s words in my head.

If anyone saw me for who I really am they would not respect me. I am a sad and angry man. No one has a clue as to the extent of my sins. I live with the guilt everyday and all the riches I’ve amassed doesn’t even come close to making up for all my regrets. I’ve achieved the lavish lifestyle I always wanted but that ice cream shop that I ran away from all those years ago haunts me to this day.

I close my eyes and remember everything I did in the past that has led me here. Someday, somehow I will have to atone for my mistakes and although being here makes me sick to my stomach I feel like I finally found the way out of this misery.

A phone rings and after a while Arthur hands it to me.

“The lawyer.” He says.

Ah, he must have the results from the test. I am sure my hunch is correct but I’m still nervous.

“Yes?” I say as I put the phone to my ear.

“Good morning, Mr. Caddel. We have the DNA results.”

I don’t answer waiting for what he says next.

“And? Get to the point.” This lawyer likes to f**k around because he gets paid by the hour and I tolerate him only because he’s good at his job.

“Just as you suspected, sir. She is a match.” He finally finishes. I breathe out.

“Does that mean no one can take her?”

He goes on to explain that as long as no one disputes my legal claim to the child and I am proven fit to care for her, it will all just be a matter of waiting.

“It’s pretty straightforward. The entire process will take at least 6 months. 18 at most but given that you said the mother had no family, it won’t get to that.” He continued.

I thank him and end the call. That child is my atonement. Making sure she has a good life will be my legacy. I have to prove I am fit to care for her. 

Financially, I am more than capable. I am capable of raising a hundred children if it were just about the money but it isn’t about money. It’s never that simple. 

I am squeaky clean on paper, the lawyers make sure of that, but the state only has the first 10 pages and if someone comes along and decides to unearth the entire book, my claim to the child would be done for. No one is going to give a child to a drug trafficking murderer.

When I found out that the girl was pregnant I was afraid that she would produce yet another victim to the string of violence I’ve left in my wake since I left home years ago but when she died and I was left with the baby, it felt right. The mother would be the last victim and the child is my salvation. Marin will be my savior.

I take a deep breath and look down at the infestation below me. This town triggers my urges. Up here on the 11th floor I am far away from all of it but I am still too close for comfort. I am unsettled here. Too much has happened. I think of the child and I calm down a little. Just 6 to 18 months and I will leave this place and all of my mistakes behind for good.