Ch 25

“So basically, the Reggatoni family owns us,” Ben said, “and if they didn't, the cartel was going to kill us.”

Ben's friends were silent for a while, each in their own thoughts, the tension in the room building, when McCrea looked up and smiled.

“They really did the fried chicken thing?”

“Yeah,” Ben said, also cracking a smile “I've still got the sign in my trunk.”

“That's badass,” Vaughan said, moving so he could look at Ben and keep Louden out of his line of sight. “I remember in middle school, during state history class when we had the family rep come in as a special guest speaker.”

“Oh yeah,” Louden said, eyes wide with her fake smile “We had a test on it, I thought it was so ridiculous,” she laughed, and only Polk politely joined in, with Vaughan visibly tensing up, Ben and McCrea simply ignored her. Vaughan pointed at Ben with a single finger, arm locked.

“Shit, the MDMA,” he said, and McCrea echoed his curse.

“I say we just turn it over,” Polk said “There's no way we'll be even remotely safe selling it like we planned.”

“Oh yeah,” Louden said, voice caught in a wild swing between contempt and desperation “That'll go over well. 'Hey, we found like fifty pounds of Ecstasy next to those dead cartel guys, but don't worry, it just magically appeared when we shot a bunch of fucked up looking wolves.” It sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

“Louden,” Vaughan said, voice very cold “Don't talk. This is your fault, and if you think you've got even a remote chance to argue that, I'll hogtie you and drop you off down Tijuana avenue myself.”

At the mention of the most dangerous road in Hope, everybody stopped talking. Louden was silently crying, face ugly and red.

“So, how come they didn't meet with all of us individually?” McCrea asked, very obviously trying to steer the conversation away from going further “Why have you come talk to us? Actually, better question, and no offense meant, but why do they think me, Vaughan and Polk have anything to do with it?”

“My uncle and parents,” Ben said “Uncle was, in their words, a good guy, loyal, and a damn shame he caught a bullet for the family.” Ben was jumbling his words, unexpected emotion surging and having to be suppressed “They also said Dale,” his blood got several degrees hotter just from saying the name of the 'Casino King' “felt bad about my parents OD'ing on heroin, so he offered me protection, and just me. I asked if the cartel was interested in snatching anyone else, and they said pretty much everybody at the party was on their radar now. So, I asked if the protection could be extended to you five, and they said yes, but you all work for me now. Your welcome, by the way.”

“Most of us would have done the same for you,” Vaughan said, momentarily glancing back at Louden, who started crying harder.

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“I didn't mean for any of this!” she said, “I'm sorry! I'm sorry about Richard, I'm sorry about the party, I'm sorry about inviting those cartel creeps, I'm sorry about your friend!” She collapsed to her knees, buckled over and sobbing. For a brief, black moment, everyone thought Vaughan was going to walk over and kick her as hard as he could.

“Don't believe it,” Vaughan said, visibly shaken “She's a liar and a whore, she'll cry as hard as she thinks she needs to get what she wants.” He swallowed, walked a couple of steps without direction, then collected himself “We do need to come up with a plan for the MDMA. This is a lot to take in, all right? I'm. . . I'll be at my place, I need a nap. Call me if anything comes up.”

Vaughan left.

–

The rest of the group had discussed things for a while, but had not been able to come to any conclusions. Ben, however, already knew what needed to be done. It had been earlier, when talking about his uncle and parents, that his mind supplied him with the memory needed to generate the safest course of action.

It had been a rainy night, his parents were already dead, and he was living with his uncle. Uncle Theo was drinking, and Ben had been wondering if he would drink himself to death. In truth, looking back, Ben thought Theo had been admirably disciplined in his behavior for the brief two years he had raised him.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough but calm “Get on over here, Ben, I want to tell you some things about our town and the people I work for.” Ben came over and stood near him “This isn't a regular kind of town, but you already know that. It's been a lawless place since the gold-rush, and even before that I imagine. The men who run this place, are bad man, but go high enough up the food-chain anywhere and you'll find bad men running the show.”

“Uncle Theo, you're rambling.”

“Right, right. Mostly, it's live and let live here in Hope. Don't go poking around, and nobody's going to go poking you.” He paused, one arm involuntarily clenching as the memory of stabbing a man flashed behind his eyes. He swallowed, then glanced at Ben, remembering he was there. “But eventually, someone from the family is going to come knocking, and they'll want something. When that happens, you tell God's own honest truth. If you've done something wrong, you'll be punished, harshly. If you've done nothing wrong, they'll sort it out soon enough, and you'll be eating fried chicken on your way out.”

“Fried-”

“No more interruptions. But if you lie, and they find that lie. . . Ben, I can't stress it enough. I love you too much to sugar-coat it, they'll turn you over to the worst men in the world. Imagine the worst, blackest thought you've ever had, the thing you recoil from, the thing that really makes you sick.” Theo took a big drink from his glass “Your darkest fantasy is another man's daily reality, the shit that gets him up in the morning. That man has fantasies too, so evil they repulse the devil himself,” he said, eyes widening with memories he could never fully recall, memories that had been tampered with “And there are men even more wicked than that, Ben. There are men who are not men at all, but monsters, and it is their clutches you will end up in if you lie to the Family.”

He ended it by saying something Ben would never forget.

“Never in my life did I think I would know how great a prize a bullet in the back of the head was.”

Ben shook himself out of his memory and sat down on Theo's couch. His uncle's death. . . it hadn't been a surprise, but it had still hurt; even if he'd accepted that everyone he loved was going to die, it still hurt. The inheritance from Theo was enough money to keep Ben afloat for a few years, along with the advice that even if he had all the money he could ever want, he should still work. Ben took that advice to heart, and over the years, he realized working was about the only way he could have any wholesome, positive experiences in life; and also the best way for him to stay in shape and maintain a tan.

And, Ben though with a stoner smile, it wasn't like he could just go to a store and buy weed. Temp construction crew were guaranteed to have a couple of dealers in them. The thought of smoking made him realize he'd been sober since Louden's party, which blew his mind a little bit.

“Three days. . .” he said out loud “That's the longest I've been sober in years. That's pathetic.”

Ben remembered when the two mob guys had told him how to get in touch if he needed to, saying the entire phone number and leaving it at that. Ben had laughed and asked if they had a card, which they did.

He pulled the card from his wallet and stared. It was a white business card, high quality without looking expensive, no names listed, just a phone number. Before he called them, he sent out a group message to his friends, letting them know he had come to a decision, and that he was moving forward. Each one of them had a portion of the MDMA, so the decision would affect them all equally.