3. Luca
Luca
Chapter three
One Year Later
The house is packed up. The last year has been a whirlwind of getting my ducks in a row to move out to Boston. When I think back on that first drunken phone call I made to Finn the day of my dad’s funeral, I can’t believe it was only twelve months ago.
To say he had a hard time believing me is an understatement. He basically told me to fuck right off and hung up on me. I was defeated, certain my chances of taking Francesco Cataldi down had flown right out the window.
Then, a week later, I got a phone call.
“Hello?” I answer my cell phone hesitantly, recognizing the Boston area code.
“It’s Finn Monaghan. Fuck, I don’t know why I’m calling.”
He’s silent for a beat, and it doesn’t seem like he wants me to answer that for him, so I don’t.
“You know, my first thought was to find you and kill you myself for even suggesting something so insane, but the more I thought about it, the more I decided I was willing to hear you out.”
“Okay…” I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to that.
“So tell me who the hell you are and what makes you think you’re my cousin.”
“Just get right to the point. Alright.” I wipe a sweaty palm down my jeans and walk out to the back porch. For some reason, sitting within four walls doesn’t feel like enough room to have this conversation.
“I don’t have time for bullshit, Luca Bennetti, who lives in Atascadero, California.”
“How do you know that?” I didn’t give him any information when I talked to him last week.
“You said our fathers knew each other, correct?”
“Yes, but they weren’t friends. Not by a long shot.”
“Regardless, if your father knows mine, then I’m guessing he knows exactly who my father is and who our family is. Didn’t take a genius to track you through your cell phone number. Hell, didn’t even take more than an internet search.”
“Knew. Our fathers knew each other. Mine died.”
“Right, right. My bartender did tell me that. Sorry to hear. As far as I knew, you were dead, too, so tell me how I’m talking to a ghost.”
I fill Finn in on the things Frank told me. About who my birth parents were, how they came to die on Carlo Cataldi’s order and how my dad saved me and ran.
“My father looked for you for years,” Finn says when I finish my story. “He managed to keep the story out of the press, but he knew Cataldi had something to do with his sister-in-law’s death. My mother spent years looking into the eyes of every child she passed on the street in Boston to see if she recognized you. It nearly tore her apart. Shit, for a while there, it did. You just disappeared into thin air.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. The people he’s talking about don’t mean anything to me. Not in any real way.
“So what do you want, Luca? Why did you decide to contact me after all this time? You knew two years ago who you were. Why now?”
“Frank is dead.” It’s a simple answer but the truth.
“Good riddance,” Finn responds.
“Hey,” I bark out. “He may not have made the right decision, but he was a good father. He did the best he could in a shitty situation.”
Finn doesn’t apologize, not that I expected him to. The man stole me from his family after killing his aunt. I wouldn’t dare think he’d be grateful to him for keeping me safe. Hell, there are moments when I’m pissed as hell at him. But he didn’t know Frank like I did. He doesn’t have the years under his belt with him that I do.
“You haven’t answered my question. What do you want?”
“I want that fucker Cataldi and his entire organization to burn to the ground. I want to stand over him while he takes his last breath and know I was the one who caused his destruction. I want revenge for what he did to my parents,” I tell him as I stand at the edge of my back porch and stare into the field beyond.
Holy shit, I’ve never said that out loud. Now that I have, it feels good. It feels like the truest words I’ve ever spoken. Maybe that makes me a monster, no better than the people Frank was trying to save me from, but fuck if I care. That man deserves everything I plan to do. Hell, probably more.
“Okay.” Finn is silent for a minute. “If that’s what you want, I can make it happen. You want the whole organization to fall, then it’s going to take work and patience. The Cataldis haven’t survived this long on luck.”
“So you’ll help me?”
“I’ll help you. But we do this my way. You don’t know jack shit about this life. And we can’t tell anyone you’re related to me or who you are. I’m not going to lie, Luca. This is going to be dangerous as shit. You may not make it out alive. I’m not going to have those old wounds opened for my mother if she finds out who you are just to have you die.”
I think about that for a few moments. It’s not like I have any family as it is now.
“Okay. So what do we do?”
“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
“No.”
“Do you have any sort of training in martial arts or fighting? An expert thief by chance? Any skills that would make you at all desirable to a criminal organization?”
“Not really. I played football in high school, but that’s about it.”
“So you’re a big guy with no fighting skills who’s never shot a gun? I can work with that.”
“I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Why do you want to help me? How do you know I am who I say I am?”
“I hacked into your DMV records. You have my mother’s eyes. Your mother’s eyes. You look just fucking like her, man.”
Considering I have the pictures to prove he’s right about the family similarities, it’s as good as a DNA test in his eyes.
“This is what you need to do before you come out here,” Finn says, and I listen intently to his every instruction. After all, he’s right. I have no clue what it takes to be a criminal in his world, but I’m sure as hell about to find out.
The ringing phone jerks me out of my memory. Finn sent me a burner phone, which I only talk to him on. He said not to call anyone else in Boston from my original phone and to disconnect it as soon as possible. He told me if we’re doing this, then there can be no ties to my life in California. That part was easy. I didn’t have a girlfriend, and though I had good friends in high school, taking care of a sick father and the secrets I had to keep from everyone about my history put a wedge between us. With Frank gone, I don’t have anyone I care about or who cares about me enough to miss me when I’m gone. Everyone here thinks I’m getting out of Atascadero to start a life away from reminders of my dad. That I’m leaving heartbroken. But I’m not. I’m leaving with a plan to take down a dangerous man who ruined not only my life but countless others.
“Hey, what’s up?” I answer.
“Today’s moving day. You all set?”
“Yup. Just need to get in the car.”
“You can still back out. Once you’re in Boston, shit’s going to get real. It won’t be just an idea anymore.”
Finn has made sure at every turn that I’m prepared for what life is going to look like once this whole thing gets underway. When we started this, he told me I had to get used to thinking on my feet and keeping a straight face because there’s no doubt I’ll see things that would otherwise make a normal person cringe.
“I’m not backing out, Finn. I’ve already put the work in. If anything, I’m more determined than ever to get out there and get shit started.”
When I talked to my cousin a year ago, he gave me a list of things I was going to have to do. One of them, funnily enough, was acting classes, specifically improv. He said since I didn’t grow up in the life, I needed to learn to think fast and control my expressions. I thought he was overdoing it, but there was no way in hell I was going to say no to him and have him back out of our deal.
He told me to learn how to shoot and get to the point where the gun felt like an extension of myself. I clocked a shit ton of hours at the gun range, learning everything I could and becoming a damn good shot, if I do say so myself.
Boxing was another class Finn insisted on. I’d never been in a real fight, and Finn was adamant I learned how to use my fists. It came in handy with the next part of the preparation plan for me. He wanted me to start hanging out in the seedier dive bars. Aside from the night I first called him, I hadn’t been much of a drinker, but Finn said I didn’t need to become an alcoholic to sell any of this. I just needed to make nice with some of the less desirable regulars at the bars I went to. It didn’t take long for me to be involved with my first bar fight, but thanks to the boxing classes, I learned how to throw a powerful punch. I won’t lie and say the camaraderie after the fight didn’t make me uncomfortable. These weren’t good guys. They were drug dealers and junkies, but Finn insisted I needed to be comfortable around those types of people and learn to fit in because a major part of our plan depended on it. I bought coke and pills from people and acted glad to see them every time we ran into each other at one of the three bars I frequented. I never took anything I bought off them, instead flushing that shit down the toilet when I got home, but I studied how the dealers operated.
So, after months of doing everything Finn told me to, we decided it was time for me to come out to Boston and find a way into the Cataldi organization. He said since it’s not something you can exactly apply for, I’d have to get an introduction to one of the capos and work my way up from there. Considering my size, he figured they would most likely want me as a guard, but I’d need to prove myself first.
“You need to work on that patience, cousin. This isn’t going to happen overnight.”
That was another thing he kept hammering home. He told me countless times that something like this could take years. That it wasn’t enough to go in and kill Francesco right away. I needed to get in there and figure out how and where we could weaken them so when it was time for a full-blown takeover, Finn would be the one to step in. That was the plan, at least. I’d be his inside man, and he’d make moves to take over their territory. Then, when the time was right and they were weak, that was when Francesco would be mine.
“I’ve been patient. For the last three years, all I’ve thought about is watching the old man take his last breath. I’m ready to put this in motion, Finn. Don’t start doubting me now.”
Finn chuckles. “I don’t doubt you, Luca. I’m simply making sure you’re ready.”
“I’m getting in my car now. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Drive safe.”
Hanging up the phone, I look at the only house I’ve ever lived in since I was a baby. My father’s life insurance included a clause that, at the time of his death, his house would be paid off. It’s a small place, but the money from the sale will set me up nicely until I can get on a crew with the Cataldis and start earning.
The summer sun is beating down on me as I stare at the old bungalow. The three-bedroom, one-story home is ready for the family that bought the place to move in. It’s a nice-looking house in a quiet neighborhood with white paint and black shutters. When my dad was alive, it was painted light yellow with white shutters and matching trim, but the realtor said black and white was much more appealing. The first time I saw it freshly painted, it didn’t feel like my house anymore. And as of today, it no longer is. With one last long look, I get in my old SUV, packed with a few boxes in the trunk and pull out of the driveway. I don’t look in the rearview mirror, choosing to keep my eyes trained on the road ahead and the new world I’m ready to dive headfirst into.
The cross-country drive was uneventful and too fucking quiet. Frank and I never drove from coast to coast. Makes sense why, considering he was trying to stay as far from Boston as he could possibly get.
It’s the first time I’m driving through the Rockies, then the plains, passing through small no-name towns with nothing but my thoughts and a few CDs I brought with me. My car is so old it doesn’t have any sort of way to listen to music other than a CD player or the radio. This was my dad’s car, the one he shuffled me to and from school in and all the football practices and camping trips in between. Now, I’m taking it to the one place he vowed never to return to.
My mind repeatedly drifts to how he would feel about my plans. He wouldn’t be thrilled I’m putting myself in danger. Every time the idea of him being disappointed runs through my head, I remember the picture of my smiling mother with me on her hip or the look in Elio’s eyes, smiling down at the woman and child he clearly loved. Then, the rage comes back in full force. One man was responsible for taking that away, making their last moments on this earth terrifying in ways I could only imagine. And that man needs to pay.
It takes four days for me to get to Boston. Four days of sleeping in cheap motel rooms and eating at greasy diners, or grabbing something from a convenience store along the highways I traveled. Four days of watching the scenery go from wide open plains to congested cities and finally reaching Boston.
I pull into the parking lot of an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city to meet Finn. If I didn’t trust the man so much, I’d be pretty damn worried right about now, considering this is where it looks like a man like him would be perfectly comfortable snuffing the life out of someone. Where a man like me would come to do the same thing. Because that’s who I am now. Maybe I should be having second thoughts about the path I’m on, but I can’t find it in myself to turn back. Nothing is going to stop me from taking down the Cataldis.
“You made it,” Finn says as I step out of the SUV.
“Did you have any doubts?”
“Nah,” he replies and walks over to me, clasping me in a hug. “Good to see you in the flesh.”
Finn and I have talked at least twice a week on the phone over the last year. We’ve had several video calls, too.
Just as he releases me, another guy steps out of the car. He isn’t quite as broad as Finn, but he has a cunning gaze as he eyes me from where he stands.
“This is Cillian,” Finn introduces as the man makes his way over to us. “He’s my lieutenant and the only other person in Boston who knows who you are and what we’re doing.”
That takes me by surprise for a moment. “I thought we agreed no one would know anything,” I say, looking between my cousin and Cillian.
“There aren’t a lot of guarantees here, Luca. But one thing I know for certain is shit can spin on a dime. If anything happens to me, I don’t want you left in the wind. I trust Cillian to be able to keep his mouth shut.”
“What about Eoghan?” Finn told me all about his little brother, who is still getting his feet wet in the organization.
“I love my brother, but I don’t want him to be part of this. One, he’s a mama’s boy, and like I said before, this could go sideways in a heartbeat. I don’t want my mother going through that heartbreak again if she finds out you were living in Boston under her nose, and she lost you all over again. And two, the fewer people who know anything, the better. Eoghan can’t inadvertently give up information he doesn’t have.”
Finn keeps his inner circle tight, which I suppose a man in his position would have to do.
Cillian walks over to me, reaching his hand out to shake mine. I notice the tattoos around his wrist and the hard look in his eyes. The scars on his knuckles tell me he’s well acquainted with the violence involved in this life and has no problem doling it out when the situation arises. I’m sure Finn has the same tendencies, but he has an easier demeanor, almost as though they play the good cop, bad cop. Or maybe bad cop, worse cop.
“Nice to meet you, Luca,” Cillian says in a deep, emotionless voice, as though meeting the person who’s about to risk his life being a mole for his organization is as mundane as sharing the weather report.
“You too,” I reply, then step back.
“Let’s get to business, then,” Finn says, and Cillian and I turn our gazes to my cousin, the newest head of the Monaghan family. He’s a few years older than me and has been in charge since his father retired three years ago. Seems kind of young to be the head of a criminal organization, but the way he tells it, his mother, my aunt, was done worrying about her husband after his second heart attack. Finn was more than ready to take the reins, and Cormac, her husband, agreed and stepped down as head of the family.
Finn hands me a piece of paper. “Here’re the addresses of a couple bars that men in the Cataldi organization frequent, including Francesco’s son, Carlo. Start there.” Then he hands me another sheet of paper with several addresses listed. “Here’s a list of apartment buildings in Cataldi territory. They aren’t exactly upscale penthouses, but they aren’t total shitholes either.”
I nod and take the papers from him. Finn’s dark-blue eyes bore into mine. “We aren’t going to be able to talk much while this is going down, and meeting face to face is going to be even tougher. If anyone sees us together, it’ll put you under suspicion. If there’s a chance for us to meet, I’ll text you on the burner, but keep that shit hidden. I don’t have to tell you what happens if you’re found out.”
We’ve already gone over all the gruesome ways the Cataldis handle moles in their organization, as though I don’t have knowledge of it from Frank’s stories.
“You ready?” Finn asks.
“Considering I’ve been waiting years to get here, yeah, I’m fucking ready.”