Chapter 13
NICK
I startle awake shivering. I gasp for air as a chill surrounds me.
“You know, I got better things to do tonight,” says a harsh voice.
“Ahhh, fuck, not another one,” I mumble into the cold mist.
I blink furiously as the vision takes shape. Shit! Frank is standing in front of me with his usual shit-eating grin on his face.
“What words of wisdom do you have?”
“Get up off your ass, and I’ll show you.”
I reach for the bourbon, but Frank levitates the bottle out of my reach. Even as a fuckin’ ghost, he’s a ballbuster.
“You’re not gonna need that where we’re goin’.”
“And who the fuck are you supposed to be?”
“Weren’t you paying attention?” Frank shakes his ethereal head. “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Present.”
“How bad can this be? I can do this. I got a successful club, a beautiful wife and child. Nowhere near as scary as the fuckin’ past.”
Frank cocks his head in an annoying way. “Why don’t we take a look at your life the way it’s really unfolding?”
“No problem. I got enough money to buy anything I want.”
“Had a feeling you were gonna say that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, but he ignores me.
“Shut up and pay attention.”
A clap of thunder roars around us, and we’re in a huge marble-floored foyer complete with a winding staircase and a glittering chandelier. Groups of men in tuxedos and women in formal gowns mingle as caterers pass around champagne and finger food.
Expensive Christmas decorations are elaborately placed around the room with soft music playing in the background. A party in someone’s home? More like a mansion. Fuckin’ place is huge.
“Where are we?”
“Graham Pierce’s Beverly Hills estate.”
“Why the fuck are we here?” I ask.
“Always so damn impatient. Just like when you were a kid.”
I suck in a breath, scan the room and focus on Graham talking to a group of men. Although we’re on the perimeter of the room, I can hear every word they say perfectly clear. Fuckin’ weird.
“I should have that deal wrapped up before the New Year,” Graham boasts to his tight circle of friends.
“Glad to hear it,” one of them adds. “Making these connections in Vegas is paramount.”
“I’ve always considered Macau to be the premium and most concentrated gambling empire, while Monte Carlo generates old money and prestige,” Graham says.
“Vegas was never high on my list, and I’ve shied away from it due to the lower echelon of clientele, but sometimes we have to scrape the bottom of the barrel when it comes to business. ”
“Bottom of the barrel? What the fuck does he mean by that?”
“Patience,” Frank advises. “It gets better.”
The other men in the circle laugh, and Graham adds, “It wouldn’t be so bad if at least the people who ran these clubs were intelligent, but most of them barely have a high school education.”
My heart skips in my chest.
“Yes, that can be difficult,” another one agrees. “Like dealing with the staff at our winter home in Cabo. Very frustrating.”
“Try dealing with two mobsters from Brooklyn.” Graham rolls his eyes dramatically.
“That’s ex-mobsters, you dumb fuck,” I mumble.
“Nick Sinclair even changed his name. I guess with hopes of giving himself credibility, but what’s the old saying? You can take the gangster out of Brooklyn, but you can’t take Brooklyn out of the gangster.”
They all howl with laughter, and my fists clench at my side.
“Nick thinks if he wears enough name-brand clothes, no one will notice, but he’s just another thug in a designer suit. He’s not fooling anyone.”
“Just give me five minutes with that fucker. He won’t be able to laugh for a week.”
“Won’t do any good. They can’t see you or hear you.”
“I ain’t worried about him seeing me. I just want him to feel me.”
“Yet, I have to admit, acquiring Club Wicked will be a nice addition to my portfolio,” Graham continues. “Amazingly, Nick and his partner, Samson, have made it quite a success, in spite of themselves.”
“Damn fuckin’ straight, and we’re not giving it up to you.”
“How exactly did you do that, Graham? I understand these New York types can be quite intimidating.”
“I had some help, actually.” Graham cranes his neck over the crowd, then waves to someone across the room. “One of their friends from Brooklyn. If I thought Nick and Samson were uneducated, all I had to do with this one was offer him a title, and he folded almost immediately.”
Their tight circle opens, and I can’t believe my eyes—Jax.
Graham welcomes him with a slap on the back, and Jax grins, his rented tux straining under his bulging muscles.
“I don’t believe he sold us out.”
“Power changes people,” Frank says.
Who knew the mob boss had insight?
Graham cups Jax’s shoulder. “Let me introduce you to my right-hand man in Vegas. My connection for the last four months.”
“Four months that fucker has been on Graham’s payroll.”
The other men nod, and Graham continues, “He’s been feeding me information about Wicked’s earnings, debts, their lease agreement on the building housing the club, along with the shadier side of their lives.
Including a close affiliation with the Serpents, a motorcycle gang in Vegas, and all their illegal dealings with mob boss Frank Barnett before coming to Vegas. ”
“Sounds like you’ve done your due diligence.” Graham’s friend nods his approval.
“Absolutely. Once I laid out how I bought the building out from under them, they had no recourse. It was almost too easy.”
“No one’s better at making a deal than you, Graham.”
“But you haven’t heard the best part. I’ve also solicited his wife’s business.
And get this, she runs an escort service, which, of course, is just another name for hookers.
” They all laugh and Graham continues, “I turned on the charm, along with my usual pressure, and I should have her business in my portfolio before the new year also. And if it all goes as planned, I’ll have her in my bed too. ”
The men snicker and shoulder-bump each other.
“I’ll rip that fucker’s heart out before I let him near Cheryl.”
“Sounds like you’ve covered all your bases.”
“She tried to come off tough, but the minute I mentioned the shady pasts of both her and Nick, she changed her attitude. Threatening the kid with social services had her eating out of my hand.”
“Threatening Portia, what the fuck?”
“You know I don’t like any loose ends, and once I have full ownership of Wicked,” Graham pats Jax on the shoulder, “you’ll be the general manager.”
“Holy shit, Jax sold us out for a title.”
“That’s what happens when you ignore your employees,” Frank warns.
“Employee? He was supposed to be our friend. Shit, we’ve known each other since juvie.”
“All the more reason you should’ve listened to him the last few months when he had some ideas about the club instead of blowing him off.”
“It couldn’t be helped. I was too busy and—”
“Too busy for your family and friends?”
I can’t take my eyes off Jax laughing it up with Graham and all his phony friends.
Graham turns to Jax. “Why don’t you get yourself another drink? Enjoy the party.”
When Jax leaves the circle, one of Graham’s friends leans in. “Now you’ll have to deal with him. Looks like you traded one thug for another.”
“Not really. Once I get full ownership, I won’t need Jax anymore.”
“You better be careful,” the friend warns. “I don’t think that thug will take being fired very well.”
“Ohhh, I won’t fire him.” Graham grins. “He’ll just disappear one day.”
The men all exchange a look, then slowly nod.
“That fucker’s gonna off Jax.” I turn to Frank. “Shit, I gotta warn him.”
“You really don’t get how this works, do you?” Frank nudges me forward. “We need to move on.”
“There’s more?”
“Much more.” Frank extends his arm, and another bolt of thunder crashes around us, but I can’t get Jax out of my head. I’m pissed as shit he sold us out, but I don’t wanna see him dead.
Christmas decorations shine brilliantly—too bright, blurring my vision like looking through a snow globe. All glittery then slowly focusing on the foyer of my house with Cheryl. Finally, I can relax in a safe place.
“See.” I wave my arms around the room. “All that hard work paid off. Beautiful house, wife and child.”
“But will it remain this way?” Frank asks.
Before I can snap back at Frank’s comment, I see Cheryl and Portia decorating the tree in the family room. The one I complained was too big.
“I miss Daddy. I wish he could help us decorate the tree too.”
“Daddy’s at work,” Cheryl says the words like a curse.
“He’s always at work. I wish he was around more, especially now for our first Christmas together.”
“I’m here.” Nick yells into the void. “I’m here.”
Frank shakes his head. “How many times do you have to be told? They can’t hear you.”
“I hope he makes my holiday concert.”
“Yes, he promised he’d be there,” Cheryl assures her.
“Where you there?” Frank asks.
“I wanted to be there, I really did. It’s just that I got caught up at—”
“Work?”
“Shit, it was the meeting with that fucker Pierce.”
“You let that user interfere with your family time,” Frank states the sad fact.
“I didn’t know he was selling us out. I thought he would help us expand the business, and we’d make more money. I thought it was important.”
“More important than your own daughter?”
Okay, so I fucked up and missed the concert. Cheryl was pissed, but Portia told me she understood. She was fine with it.”
“That’s what she told you, but . . .”
“When I miss something, she always tells me it’s all right.”
“Are you sure about that?” Frank asks.
Another crack of thunder and I’m in Portia’s room.
“No, baby, don’t cry.” Cheryl is sitting on the edge of Portia’s bed, rubbing her back. “Don’t cry.”
“Who the fuck made my little girl cry?”
“You.”
I gasp for air like I got punched in the gut.
“But he said this time would be different. He said this time he’d come.”
“He tried, but he said there was traffic and—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Portia hiccups through her tears. “He should’ve tried harder.”
“He’s very busy at work with the holiday parties at the club.”
Even though Cheryl was pissed at me, she defended me to Portia.
“I know, but I wanted him to see me up on stage.” Portia wipes at her eyes. “I was okay when he missed the Halloween parade and the school carnival, but I really wanted him to be at the holiday concert.”
“I know, I know.” Cheryl hugs Portia to her, and I think of my own mother.
“Look familiar?” Frank prompts.
“Completely fuckin’ different. I’m not an abusive bastard like my old man. I’ve provided for my family, given them the best—given them everything.”
“Except the one thing they really want—you.”
Portia silently weeps into Cheryl’s shoulder, and my heart aches.
“Tell her to stop crying. Tell her I’m sorry.”
“It’s too late,” Frank states. “You can’t change what’s already happened.”
“Shit!” I turn my eyes away from Portia and mumble, “Make this stop.”
“Only you have the power to make it stop.”
“I’ll do anything. Just tell me what to do,” I beg.
“Stop being an asshole and enjoy what you’ve got.”
“That’s your advice.”
“Just ‘cause I’m a ghost, don’t expect me to get all mushy and sappy. I’m telling you straight out—shape up and start treating my daughter and my granddaughter right, or I’m gonna call in some of my Brooklyn connections.”
“I’ve worked so hard to get to this point. I’m afraid if I don’t keep going at this pace, it will all disappear.”
“The only thing that will disappear is your family. Don’t make the same mistakes I made with Cheryl. Be there for your kid. Let her know you care.”
“I do care. I do.” I reach out to Portia and Cheryl, but they fade away.