An Unfinished Life (29 page)

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Authors: Mary Wasowski

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“He’s family.”

“Not my family. He’s a cop, and you know how we feel about that.”

“Dominick, leave Jacob Paulson to me.”

“Okay. For now, I will. Make no mistake, Jack, if he proves to be a problem, he will be dealt with. A long time ago, a message was delivered to him in the cruelest of ways. I would hate to have to do it again. I so detest violence. I’m a business man, Jack, and in business, I have to protect what’s mine. An associate of ours working out of Boston did not adhere to the bounds of an agreement that was made between our family. I’m a generous man, but my patience wore thin, and like I said, a message was delivered. It was kind of like the one you sent to Dante’s kid brother all those years ago, but this time around, the imminent death wasn’t dragged out.”

My head was spinning. I felt like it was going to explode with every word that was coming from his mouth. Dominick was getting off on torturing me with these past secrets that were now mine to keep.

“What message?” I asked with my head hung low.

I needed air. This was a mistake on huge proportions. I shouldn’t be here.

“Your boy, Jacob, has quite the colorful resume. How does a professional football player go from winning a Super Bowl to becoming an FBI agent? It’s quite an interesting read. He wasn’t always with the FBI; he was NYPD for a few years. He was also engaged to a fellow cop. She was too beautiful for that, but to each his own, right? Her gene pool is full of law abiding police officers, but there’s always one that’s not so good in the litter. Care to guess who that is?”

“Stop playing, Dom, and just tell me.”

“Watch your tone, Jack, or I won’t finish my story. Papa LaRocha himself. Police chief Joseph LaRocha was in bed with us, can you imagine that? All those service medals and pretty symbols he wore on his uniform, and in reality…just another dirty cop on our payroll. Wait, wait…let me rephrase. We
are
trying to stay with the times now. He was expanding his opportunities—some worked out and some he failed at. But it’s always the eager ones, the greedy ones that never get enough of the pie, who always want more. So what do we do? We give more, and in return, we expect our requests to be granted.”

“Here, Jack, it’s all in the file. Chief LaRocha was not a good man. He was perfect at deceiving his family, but we knew the real man who hid behind his badge and fake persona. He was into us for over $700,000 large, and it was going up day by day. He tried to bargain with us, and we countered. More bad choices on his part followed, and then my hands were tied, Jack. I saw no other way to handle him and bring him back into the fold.”

The bile was rising up my throat. I was thanking my good luck that we were in the library where I had access to the outside. I nearly broke down the French doors to the patio and puked my guts up to the point of emptying my stomach.

I knew what Dominick had ordered.
He did not detest violence. Liar!
There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the brass ring. And if he had a police chief in his back pocket, then there would be no way of letting him go.

He walked out beside me and threw a handkerchief at my feet.

“Here, take this. You are a mess, Jack. Pull yourself together and come back inside.”

I wiped my mouth and took a bottle of water off the side bar table. I gulped it down and took another. He was forcing my hand, and I had no choice but to listen.

“May I continue now? Or will I run the risk of you spewing all over my Tabriz carpet?”

“Come again?”

“A Tabriz carpet. I just acquired it through Sotheby’s for a selling price of $68,500 dollars. A small fortune to pay for the best. It does go lovely in this room, wouldn’t you agree? Oh, I forgot your lack of design. You are more of a baseball pennant tacked to a wall guy.”

“Fuck you, Dom, and get on with it.”

I was about to punch him in his throat.

“After several attempts at reasoning with Chief LaRocha, he really left us with no choice. At the time, young and eager Detective Paulson was also working the streets and infiltrating many mob owned businesses. All legal of course, but you know this generation. Always looking to bring down who they believe are the bad guys, when in reality, I’m just trying to make a living like the next guy. To provide for my family and the generations that will follow me. Paulson was becoming a thorn in our side, but for the most part, we were always a few steps ahead of him. He was a good cop, but we were better at working the system. You never know who is connected with the other. You see, Jack, let’s map out the players in the mix, shall we? The very corrupt police chief Joseph LaRocha was in bed with us. His daughter was involved with Detective Paulson, who is connected with you by your daughter, Nicolette. We needed to show the chief what happens when he refused to follow our orders time and time again. Paulson was becoming a problem, but so was LaRocha. What to do, what to do? Imagine my surprise when I was told that not only our issues with LaRocha were now handled, but the grieving Detective Paulson was not so focused on our ventures anymore.”

“You are one sick and twisted fuck, Dominick. How could you take out a hit on an innocent woman? We don’t hurt women…not ever!”

“A means to an end. Call it collateral damage if that helps you sleep better at night.”

“It doesn’t, Dom. It will never be okay to justify what you did. And if your father was alive, he would have never allowed you to be so reckless.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that he’s dead.”

“You asshole!”

I grabbed him by his designer suit and wailed on him with all I had. His men broke through the library doors, but he stopped them. The interruption distracted me and Dominick landed a punch to my stomach and a hit to my jaw. I jumped back up to see a gun on me.

“You pull a gun on me, you pussy? Your father is rolling over in his grave right now. Put it down, Dom, and fight me like a man.”

He placed the gun on the desk and wiped his split lip.

“Forgive me, Jack. You took me by surprise. I didn’t think a man with your legacy would be so sensitive to this subject matter. It must bring up old wounds for you.”

“This was a mistake, Dominick. I was wrong to come here, and from this moment on, I will take care of myself without your ‘assistance,’ thank you very much.”

“We will always be here for you, Jack, make no mistake about that. A wrong needed to be righted, and it is now finished. As for Detective Paulson’s fiancée, well that was unfortunate, and we have learned from that mistake. And Marino? Well he’s never been the most restrained individual. He’s a player on both sides. Whatever suits his purpose he tends to show loyalty to. For now, it’s the shield because he thinks he can use it to bring you down, but how wrong he is. We won’t let that happen, rest assured. You have my word I will not touch Paulson, but do expect a visit from him soon. I expect he is making his way to Chicago any day now. We will monitor from our end and keep you updated with what we find out. I am not your enemy, Jack, and I never want to be. Take this olive branch that I am extending to you as a sign of a promise my father made to you many years ago.”

“Call me what you want, Jack, I don’t care. You had your relationship with my father, and I had mine. They were different, but not less complicated. I will always put this family first. At the end of the day…will you? I guess time will tell, my friend. Always a pleasure chatting with you, Jack. I believe you know the way out.”

And with his impeccable manners, he bid his goodbye to me, and I was left standing in his father’s library, feeling like I was about to sink down in quicksand. I was trapped between two families, and at this point I didn’t have a side I was on. I was on the outside looking in, feeling completely alone.

 

 

A
ll through the drive back into Chicago, I was trying to wrap my mind around all that Dominick revealed to me today. What the fuck was I supposed to do with this keg bomb I was sitting on? That poor girl was gunned down for the sole purpose to gain leverage over her father. I wasn’t a fan of cops, but I did like Jacob. Their entire family were amazing people.

It was easy to see how Nicolette fell for Simon. He treated her like gold, and I had no doubt that his brothers were any different with the women in their lives. That girl didn’t deserve to be gunned down on a street. I would never agree with Dominick’s animalistic nature to do what he did. She’s dead because of her father’s foolish choices and Dominick’s greed for power.

I had blood on my hands, I never tried to deny that. I couldn’t live with myself after what I did to Mikey, and that was why I asked to be let go. To this day, I was still regarded as the muscle behind the king. I never wanted any of that. All I wanted was to help my family, and with that, I’d been paying for it for years. After learning about Nicolette, it was like second nature to reach out to Johnny. After all, I still deemed him as my friend. Sara never understood it but kept her judgments to herself. It wasn’t like our bar and restaurant was a mob front. Sure, I had some guys from the neighborhood that frequented our place on occasion, but we were legitimate and hardworking people. I left it all behind and never looked back, but did they? I’m not so sure now after listening to Dominick.

And what the hell am I going to do about Jacob? How will I explain it to Sara, let alone Massimo? And most of all to my beautiful Nickel? She could never know this part of me…not ever. I would surely lose her trust and faith in me.

Maybe they were all right. If I truly wanted Michael St. Clair dead, then I would have followed through with my plan to end his life that day in the hospital or shortly after he was sentenced. You don’t wait the time I did and still do nothing.

I’d never forget my conversation with my brother that day in the hospital. He begged me to be better for Sara. He told me he loved me. I believed then that I still had humanity within my soul. I couldn’t be the man for Sara, and for Nicolette, if it didn’t exist. I’d wasted so much of my life obsessing. Massimo was right all along. I should have been better and not allow the devil back in. Sins didn’t stay buried forever, and they were all about to come crashing back into my life.

I sent Tommy home after he dropped me off at my bar. I knew shit was going to hit the fan once I walked through the door and faced Sara’s wrath. I ignored all of her calls and hadn’t been in touch for hours. The bar was dark and appeared to be closed, raising all my alarms to something not right.

I charged up the stairs to our home, taking two stairs at a time. I called out for Sara, but I was alone. Where the hell was she? Just then, I heard a knock to my door. I flung it open to see Ramone, her assistant chef.

“Where’s Sara? Why is the place shut down?” I was shouting at the top of my lungs.

He looked like he was about to wet his pants. This was a side of me they never saw if I could help it.

“She’s at the hospital, Mr. Jack. We tried to reach you. We didn’t know what to do, so we called an ambulance.”

He was twisting his cap and keeping his head down. I grabbed him by the shoulders and demanded answers.

“What hospital? Where is my wife?”

“Northwestern Memorial,” he nervously answered me.

I shoved him out of my way, grabbing my keys, and flying down the stairs. I put my truck into gear and hit the gas pedal as hard as I could. I had never driven so fast in my life and was surprised I wasn’t pulled over in the process. I left my truck in emergency and threw my keys to an attendant working the parking.

“Sir, you can’t leave your car here,” he called out.

I didn’t give a fuck about the valet or where I could or could not park my truck. I was desperate to get to my wife.
Please let her be alright.
I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and somehow got lost. When I finally reached the ER information desk, I was breathless.

“Sara Vanelle, is she here?”

The nurse handed me a cup of water, but I waved her off.

“My wife? I was told she was brought here by ambulance.”

She began typing on her tablet, and then I watched her eyes scan whatever she was reading.

“If you wait here, Mr. Vanelle, I will get the doctor on call who is assigned to your wife’s care tonight.”

She began to walk away from me, and I gently pulled on her arm.

“Please, just tell me. Is my wife alive?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I will be right back.”

I fell to my knees and began punching the floor until my knuckles bled.
Where is my Sara?
I began to shake uncontrollably when the nurse was back with the doctor she mentioned.

“Oh my God! Mr. Vanelle, are you okay? Your hands are bleeding.”

She went to tend to me as if I cared about my hands. I just wanted answers about Sara.

“Mr. Vanelle, I’m Dr. Phan. Your wife is resting and already in a private room.”

“She’s not dead?” I questioned him. My tears were falling hard, and to hell with me trying to stop them.

“Sir, she is very much alive and stable. Please follow me into an exam space where my nurse here, Nicole, can bandage your hands. I will explain your wife’s condition to you.”

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