Before the Storm

Chapter 7

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. What the fuck is that sound? Rolling over, I open my eyes to find whatever is causing the obnoxious fucking beeping and see the ugly white cast on my hand. Fucking fantastic. Now that I am more coherent, I find the source, which was the alarm on my phone going off. I’m trying to remember why I have a cast, and then it hits me; I forgot about last night. The gunfight, our lost shipment, Phoenix getting shot, and me breaking my hand. I rub my good hand down my face and scratch my day-old scruff.

I get out of bed and go to the bathroom to take a piss. Once I am done, I wash my hands and go downstairs for breakfast before heading into the office. When I get to the kitchen, I notice Aidan is already at the stove, cooking what looks to be an omelet. Going up behind him and grabbing his hips, I whisper, “Hey, handsome, can you throw one together for me?”

“How often have I told you not to bother me while I’m cooking? I don’t like to burn food. I will make you one if you leave me alone.”

I chuckle as I back away. I love riling Aidan up, but if it weren’t for Aidan’s cooking, I would eat takeout most days. I can make a mean bowl of cereal, waffles, or oatmeal, but beyond that, I am lacking. I sit on a stool at our breakfast bar and wait for my food. An omelet appears before me a few minutes later, and I start devouring it, savoring the flavors of sausage, egg, cheese, onion, peppers, and some green stuff. Aidan seriously needs to open a restaurant. This tastes fucking amazing. I say thanks once I am done and head back upstairs to shower and get ready to go into the office.

I am driving my Maserati to the office today, and I couldn’t be happier. I pull into the parking garage of our building right at eight thirty. Heading to my office, I find my secretary waiting for me with a coffee. I nod in thanks and take a seat in my office. Firing up my computer, I pull up my calendar for the day. I have an important meeting at nine o’clock with someone looking to build ten condos to use as rental properties. I only came into the office today for this meeting, and I will head back home after. I am not working anymore on a Sunday if I don’t have to.

Walking into the conference room, I find two men seated at the long table. “Hello, gentleman, my name is Knox. I am here to go over the details with you regarding this deal.”

“My name is Stan, and that is Harvey,” the younger looking one says.

I shake their hands, and we take a seat. The deal would have us put in sixty percent, while the remaining forty percent would come from them. That is a lot of money on our end, but the profits have the potential to be extraordinary. The gentlemen already own a few properties but want to grow their company, and this project can help them with that. After the meeting, I bid them farewell and informed them I had to talk with my partners before anything was decided.

Now it’s time to head back home and deal with the aftermath of yesterday. Calling my father and letting him know of our failure will be the worst part of my day. I also have to call Grisha to ensure he is unscathed and decide when we can meet to get the rest of the shipment. If the cops haven’t raided it yet, that is. Pulling into the driveway, I park, head inside, and go upstairs to change into something more comfortable. I hate wearing suits, but today’s meeting was huge, and I had to look my best.

After getting into more comfortable clothes, I head to the office to make my calls. Sitting in my office chair, I call my father.

“Michael speaking.”

“Father, I need to speak to you regarding yesterday. This is an important matter,” I say through the phone.

“What did you do to fuck up this time, Knox? Is it something we cannot discuss over the phone?” Michael asks.

“I feel this matter would be better if we sat down and discussed it. I didn’t fuck up. But thank you for having confidence in me, Father,” I spit out.

“I will determine if you fucked up or not. I have a meeting in two hours, so meet me at the house at five tonight, and we will discuss it over dinner,” Michael says and then hangs up before I can respond.

I fucking hate that man; I can’t wait for the day I can start plotting his death. Taking a deep breath, I call Grisha next.

“Ya, this is Grisha,” he says in a heavy accent.

“Grisha, this is Knox. I want to discuss the events of last night,” I state.

“Not a great time; D is pissed about everything that happened. I lost many men last night because of you,” Grisha spits out.

“Yesterday’s events were not my fault. I have a captive to figure out who and why someone was there shooting at us. I respect that you lost men, and I am sorry for that, but do not go blaming me for shit I knew nothing about, Grisha,” I angrily say.

“I would like to speak to this person you have. I need revenge, and I need to hear from that traitor’s lips who did this. Tell me the address where he is being kept, and I will be there shortly,” Grisha says.

“I will give you the address on the condition we work out a new deal. You and I both need this business, Grisha. I understand your need for revenge, but those are my terms,” I plainly state.

“Fine, deal. Now, tell me where to go,” Grisha answers.

I send him the address of where he can get acquainted with Gary. It has been over twelve hours since I’ve seen the traitor. Heading down to the basement I see that Gary is tied naked to a metal chair with blood dripping down his face and chest. It looks like he passed out from the knife wounds Jace inflicted on his chest. I nod at Jace, move closer to Gary, and smack him in the face as I say, “Wake up; I have someone who wants to speak to you.” His eyes slowly open.

“Knox, you have the wrong guy. Please let me go; I have never betrayed you before, why would I now? I know this doesn’t look good, but I beg you to let me go,” Gary begs.

“See, I wish I could believe you, Gary, but no one else knew that we had a shipment coming in last night besides the Russians, my men, and yourself. My men would never betray me, and the Russians wouldn’t kill their own men to fuck me over, so that leaves only one person,” I tell him.

“It wasn’t me! I promise it wasn’t me. I don’t know who attacked you. Please, Knox, I have a family that relies on me,” Gary cries out.

“I will make you a deal. I will cut you loose, but only if you tell me who was there last night trying to steal our shit. I don’t believe that you had nothing to do with this, so you can stop lying. Lying will only piss me off, and Jace will make this way worse than it needs to be,” I say calmly.

“I am telling you that I didn’t have anything to do with this. I don’t know who was there. You have to believe me,” he whimpers out.

“Jace, I think he needs some more artwork on his chest. Can you draw a design for me,” I ask as I turn and look at Jace.

“Yes, sir. It will be my pleasure. I didn’t want to do too much damage until you got here,” Jace happily says, looking like a kid in a candy store with how excited he is.

He walks over to Gary and unties him, only to hook him to our ceiling. As soon as he does, I smell ammonia and watch Gary piss himself. Stepping back, so I don’t get urine on my shoes, I watch as Jace pulls out a knife and flays Gary’s skin, so pieces hang off while Gary screams the entire time. Our basement is soundproof for reasons such as this. I look at Jace, who has blood covering his face and torso but is smiling. That crazy fucker loves torturing people. It is his happy place. I would love to hop in and help, but I need to avoid getting blood on my cast.

Gary passes out from the pain as Jace finishes carving a smiley face on his chest. I will let him rest for a moment before waking him back up. A buzz in my pocket has me grabbing my phone, and I notice it’s a notification from the front door. Grisha must be here. I look at the time and see it’s three in the afternoon. I must get ready to meet my father in an hour, so Gary better start talking. I go to answer the door; Grisha and one of his bodyguards are on the other side. I welcome them in and tell them to follow me.

“Isn’t this the security guard who waved us through yesterday?” Grisha asks when he sees Gary.

“Yes, it is. His name is Gary. He”s been on our payroll for a year, and we haven’t had any incidents besides the one last night. He missed our last shipment, claiming he was sick, and then this shit happened. I would be willing to bet someone is paying him more to undermine our operation and steal from the both of us,” I answer.

Grisha nods his head and moves toward our captive. He rolls up his sleeves and punches Gary in the ribs, waking him from his passed-out state. Gary groans in protest and tries to move his body away, though he is futile in his efforts.

“Gary, we have a few questions that you best answer. See, the man throwing punches is from the Russian Mafia. He is very pissed off that he lost men last night, and it was all because of you,” I say.

“Please, you have to help me; I didn’t do anything! I’ve tried telling you that I know nothing, Knox. Please let me go,” Gary cries.

“I’ve told you before. I don’t believe you. No one would be stupid enough to betray me besides you. You’re the only one who has the motive to do so. Just tell us why you did it,” I reply.

He doesn’t answer, and I nod to Jace to continue what he does best. Jace grabs bolt cutters and bends to reach Gary’s toes. He places it on his pinky toe.

“One last chance, Gary, or your toe is gone,” Jace says happily.

Gary doesn’t respond, so Jace looks at me, and I nod. He proceeds to slice his toe off. The toe lands on the ground and, shortly after, a puddle of blood forms around his body. Gary screams and passes out again from the pain. Sighing, I throw the smelling salts over to Jace to wake him back up. As he stirs again, I ask, “Is there anything else you don’t want to tell us because you have nine more toes and ten fingers. We can do this all night.”

“Okay, I will tell you everything I know. Please stop,” Gary cries out.

“You tell us everything, and this will stop; you have my word,” I reply.

“A few weeks ago, a gentleman approached me regarding a shipment that was coming in and needed a pass on inspection. I told him we can’t do that, as it is against the law. He responded that if I can do it for the Wolverines, then I can do it for him. He said he would pay double what you guys do. I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about, and he needed to leave. He had left, but a few hours later, I received a package with photos of my wife being held hostage,” Gary says, crying even harder.

Okay, and what happened after that?” I ask.

“There was a letter with the package that said to get her back, I had to give up information on you guys, and I didn’t want her to die. We met the night I was supposed to be meeting you at the docks. I gave them information on when your next shipment should arrive. I told them I didn’t know anything else. They lied about their deal; they killed my wife anyway. I am sorry I lied to you. I still have a daughter to take care of. Please, she just lost one parent, don’t make her an orphan,” Gary begs.

“I am not a monster; we could have fixed this if you had approached me with your problem. You’re staying here until I can check out your story about your wife. If she is dead, I will consider letting you go. In the meantime, do you have any family members your daughter can stay with? You may be here a while,” I tell Gary.

“I am not lying to you anymore. I don’t know the name of the people who took me, but the leader had blonde hair, was around five-foot-ten, and had an average build. I would guess the late thirties or mid-forties. My sister is in Colorado; she could take my daughter. Please take care of her,” Gary begs.

“I will, thank you. Grisha has some anger he would like to unleash on you, but once he is done, we will patch you up, so you don’t bleed out on us. Grisha, do not kill him. Thank you,” I say to both Gary and Grisha, then nod to Jace and walk out. It’s time for me to get ready to head to my father’s. At four in the afternoon, it takes around twenty minutes to get to his house.

Thirty-five minutes later, I am pulling into my father’s house. Turning my car off, I step out and walk up to the front door. Ringing the doorbell, the housekeeper opens the door from the other side.

“Hello, Mr. Gomez; please come in. Michael is waiting for you in the dining room.” Angela rushes me inside and shuts the door.

“Angela, how often have I told you it is okay to call me Knox? I wouldn’t say I like being reminded of my father.” I kiss her on the cheek in greeting.

“Yes, Mr. Knox, I apologize. You must remind me once more as I am a forgetful lady. Now come, it’s best not to keep Michael waiting; he is in a mood, and you know how he gets when he is in a mood,” Angela says.

“Thank you, Angela, you’re as beautiful as ever. I will see myself to the dining room,” I say as I walk that direction. I find Father seated at the head of the table, looking extra pissed off today. “Hello, Father. Thank you for dinner,” I greet him.

“Knox, take a seat. I hear we have business to discuss,” Father says.

I take a seat, and his small waitstaff comes in with plates of food and sets one down in front of me. On the plate there is steak, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. I look to Father and wait for him to take a bite first; he is the type of asshole who would beat me for eating before him. Once he takes his first bite, I start cutting my steak, waiting for his word to discuss business.

“Now that we have our dinner, tell me what happened yesterday, Knox,” Michael says between bites of food.

“We went to the docks to receive the shipment of weapons as discussed. I brought Aidan, Phoenix, Jace, Declan, and Hunter with me, as this was supposed to be a regular exchange. We met with our new Russian contact named Grisha. When we arrived at the docks, we had our usual port security guard working. I spoke to him, but Gary was acting off, and I felt something wasn’t right, so we took precautions and made sure to wear vests and had extra ammo in case we walked into an ambush. I informed Grisha of my bad feeling and told him to keep his eyes open for suspicious behavior,” I say, then take a sip of water and grab a quick steak bite.

“What happened after that?” Michael asks.

“We get on the boat and find the container, as Grisha didn’t know its location. Once we found it, Grisha opened it, so we could see the merchandise. As soon as he opened the container, someone started taking shots at us. It was neither Grisha’s men nor mine who started the shootout.

To save the product, I had Grisha lock the container back up. I wasn’t willing to risk losing our shipment to whoever was at the port. The gunfight lasted for around ten minutes, and we took out twenty of their men while I lost no one. Grisha lost seven of his men. We were running out of ammo, so Grisha opened the container again, and I loaded what I could into bags and closed the container back up,” I tell my story.

“Okay, continue,” Michael says.

“We shot our way out and grabbed Gary, then stuffed him in the trunk of our car. Jace is currently interrogating him in my basement. Phoenix was shot in the leg, and I broke my hand. We walked away with fifteen or so weapons. I cannot get the rest of our shipment, as the area is an active crime scene. I hope to get them by the end of the week,” I say, ending yesterday”s events.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Knox, you can’t do anything right. You’ve fucked up again. The only good thing you managed to do was to get a hostage. I don’t even know why I try with you anymore. Beating you senseless doesn’t seem to work; I don’t know what else I can do,” Michael spits out and throws his water glass at me, hitting me in the face, the glass slicing me in a few places.

“This wasn’t my fault. How was I supposed to know that someone approached Gary and blackmailed him into giving information on our shipments? I saved our people last night and acquired part of the shipment. I understand how bad this is, but that is not on me,” I argue. I don’t know why I am pushing my father’s buttons. It will only end with me getting injured worse tonight, but I can’t help but lash out lately. I am so sick of his shit.

Michael freaks out, standing up so fast that his chair falls backward, and a loud bang echoes through the room. He stalks toward me, stomping his feet like an angry bull. My chair screeches on the floor as I jump up, ready for whatever comes. My father stands before me and punches me in the stomach, taking my breath away before I can defend myself. While I’m trying to catch my breath, he takes a cheap shot at my face and hits me in the nose, breaking it. I try to stand again, but he grabs my shoulders to hold me steady and knees me in the ribs.

Fucking hell, that hurts. The assault on my ribs continues until he runs out of breath. Once I can stand again, I rise to my full height, refusing to show how much pain I’m in. Michael glares at me, pissed that I am hiding my pain, and punches me in the face again, splitting my lip. I feel blood trickle down my chin.

“Next time, I won’t go so easy on you. You’re a fucking waste of space. If I didn’t need someone to take over the business someday, you would already be dead. Now get out of my sight, and try not to fuck up again so soon,” Michael spits at me.

I gingerly walk back to my car, taking shallow breaths because of Father’s repeated rib shots and head home. I haven’t seen the boys all day, and I want to check on Phoenix and see how he is faring today. Keeping my eyes on the road, I reach over and grab a rag from my glove box that I keep for times like this, when my father takes his anger out on me. I would kill him now, but I know his will isn’t finalized—his insurance plan. I want the business, and the only way for that to happen is to wait a little longer until I can take over and plan his untimely demise. Hopefully not much longer.

Aidan and Phoenix are sitting on the couch watching TV when I enter the house. I say hello before walking upstairs to my room to change into comfy clothes. Grabbing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, I head to the bathroom to wash the blood off my face and assess the damage from my father. Mindful of my injuries, I take off my clothes and look in the mirror to check how bad my ribs are. There’s some dark purple bruising on my left side, but they don’t feel broken. I should wrap them, so they start to heal faster. I wash my face of the blood left from my bleeding nose—which I also have to reset—and lip. Once I am done cleaning up the best I can, I put my change of clothes on and head back downstairs to rest for the remainder of the night.

When I get downstairs, I take a seat in the recliner, wincing a little, which doesn’t escape Aidan’s notice. Phoenix is too engrossed in whatever show is on. Aidan looks at me with his brows scrunched together and a frown on his face. He gives me a ‘you better tell me what the fuck happened’ look. This look is the same as when I am in the doghouse for doing something wrong. I ignore it, so I can check how Phoenix is doing. “Hey man, how is your leg? I am sorry about how last night went down,” I apologize.

“Don’t fret it, man. In our line of work, shit is bound to happen. The leg hurts a little, but Aidan has been helpful when I’ve needed him. I can walk on my own, but it hurts to put pressure on the leg right now. Besides that I am good. Why does it look like you got the shit beat out of you?” Phoenix bluntly asks when he notices my bruised face.

“Well, I had dinner with Michael to explain everything that went down last night, and the fucking prick blamed me. And since it was my fault, this was my punishment. He decided to beat the shit out of me,” I explain.

“That fucking asshole. If I would have known you were meeting him, I would have gone and beat the shit out of him for laying a hand on you,” Aidan says, raising his voice.

“For that reason alone, I didn’t invite you along. I know Michael is a prick, but I have to accept how he does things for now until I am the boss. I can’t fuck that up by fighting back. Trust me, I would love to beat the shit out of him, but he needs to believe he still has the power for everything to work out. Now, enough of Michael. I learned some interesting news from our captive today.”

“Oh yeah, and what did our little friend Gary have to say?” Phoenix asks.

“Someone kidnapped and killed his wife, leaving him as the only one left to take care of his daughter. I’ll have to look into that more, but it sounds like the person he met was Robbie from Gary’s description. I don’t know why Robbie would go after us, though, he isn’t into trading weapons. I am guessing he thought this was our drug shipment and wanted to steal that,” I tell them.

If it was Robbie who tried to steal from us, he would find himself in a world of pain. Robbie grew up with us, but some shit went down, and he was kicked out of the Wolverines for stealing drugs and getting high every chance he could. I know he has been trying to get a group together and call it a gang. The last time we spoke, he had a few men willing to join him, but I haven’t heard much. I don’t know why he would go after us, though. It’s not like we ever mistreated him. Maybe he fell off the wagon and is getting a little too big for his britches.