Chapter 3
JOEL
Iroll onto my back and stare at my ceiling. The nausea from her kick starts to subside, and I groan as I sit up and wonder if it’s worth struggling to my feet to grab a bag of peas from the freezer.
Fuck that hurt.
Seems like my life has a new theme of ‘Kick’em while he’s down’. Sighing, I sit up and brace my back against the wall. I run my fingers through my hair and go over the past few weeks in my head.
I was served my discharge papers after fifteen years of service in the Navy.
I was lucky to get an honorable one after all my disciplinary actions, but no one could argue I was wrong for disobeying a direct order, especially when it had saved so many lives.
However, someone had to take the fall, and that sure as hell wasn’t going to be an officer.
I was happy to leave with my full benefits intact.
That part of my life had run its course.
What I wasn’t prepared for was Gran dying suddenly. She wasn’t ill, and we had no warning. I was talking to her about Sunday Supper, and the next day she was gone. I had no idea she had left the house to me, so here I am fixing up the place.
After I got back, I ran into Vincenzo Lombari in the old neighborhood.
We had grown up together, and I was surprised to see him behind his grandmother’s bar.
I stumbled into Maddy’s for a quick drink before I went home, and we caught up.
He’s the one who gave me the tip about my father’s old job at the docks.
I was more than qualified, and after working so hard every day, sitting around and letting myself get old and fat wasn’t appealing, so I took my ass down there the next morning. And that’s when my entire life changed.
Three weeks earlier
“JOEL! Good to see you, boy. Thank you for your services.” I smile politely at Freddy.
He was my dad’s forman back in the day and took over when he passed.
“Thanks, old man. It’s good to be home.” I reach to shake his hand, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me in for a tight hug.
“I missed you at his funeral. I’m glad you’re here for your grandma, although I’m sad she’s gone.” He slaps my back way too hard in a familiar gesture. I wish he would stop.
I was deployed when Dad died and didn’t find out until my mission was over and we were docked stateside again. I was granted leave to come pay my respects, but he’d been in the ground three months at that point.
“I hear you’re finally retiring.” I changed the subject, not wanting to tear up in front of the man.
“Been waiting around for you to get home. Happy to see you’re done playing on boats and chasing around the world.” I chuckle and nod.
“I’m as much of a civilian as you are now.” Freddy rolls his eyes and adjusts his overalls.
“Well, the job is yours. When can you start?” My eyebrows raise.
“Just like that?” He nods with a soft smile on his wrinkled face.
“I’ve kept it all the same. Just like your dad ran it, it shouldn’t take me more than a week to introduce you to current clients and employees and teach you the new payroll system.
Otherwise, it’s the same old shit. Ships come in, workers unload, reload, and send them out.
Security runs checks, and customs does their thing.
Unless we get a specialty government shipment, there ain’t nothing to it.
You’re a glorified babysitter.” Another slap to my shoulder that makes me stumble, and I groan at the ache he causes.
“You getting soft in your old age?” Old man got jokes.
“Not on your life. I can still run circles around you.” He lets out a belly laugh that warms my soul.
“Good! You’re gonna need to stay flexible and light on your toes. This place is a well-oiled machine, but it’s a young man’s game. My old ass needs to sit down and enjoy my grandbabies.” I glance out the office windows that overlook the docks and the banks of the Susquehanna River.
“I’ll start now.”
It wasn’t until ten days later that shit went sideways.
The third day, as the official boss, and I found myself staring at a container with no paperwork, destination, or owner. The guys joked around, saying it was a freebie and claiming finder, keepers, as I frown at the shipping manifest.
“Well, someone in China clearly fucked up. What time is it in Hong Kong?” I do the math in my head, knowing they’re thirteen hours ahead of us.
“Fuck, it’s only five in the morning there. Ok, you guys clear out. I’ll hang around for the next few hours until their offices open and straighten this shit out.” They all say goodbye and clock out as the evening security detail arrives.
I go up to my office and start clearing up some paperwork while draining my fifth cup of coffee of the day.
Hours later, the roar of motorcycles draws my attention, and I go over to my windows to see what’s going on.
I watch the guards at the gate let in six guys wearing biker cuts and frown.
Glancing at the clock, then at the employee schedule, I think either these guys are four hours late to work, or something is going on.
I grab my walkie and radio down to the guard, but he doesn’t answer me.
“What the fuck is going on?” I grab my vest and, out of years of precaution, my gun.
I take the back way out of my office and come around the side of the building out of sight of the guard, ignoring my radio call. My gut is telling me this has something to do with that container, so I make my way to it. Sure enough, I find six Harleys parked a few feet away.
A loud bang followed by yelling and cries had me quickening my steps in time to see two of the bikers cut the lock and open the container, which was full of women. I’m about to draw my gun when I feel the unmistakable cold of one on the back of my neck.
“Nah, I wouldn’t, Joel.” I turn, as if I have no training at all, and stare at my friend Vincenzo.
“It’s not what you think.” Are the only words he says before I’m hit on the head and knocked out.