Curses

The soft snowfall covered the landscape. Trenches and trees alike were filled with the white wonder. The forest was still under the heavy breath of the Winter night. A single woman's footsteps crunched over the snow and ice as she sought refuge. This winter had not been a kind one. She knew that if she were to stay out much longer, she would surely freeze before daybreak. She pulled her cloak tighter to her body. She looked back at her tracks. How far she had come, it would be a shame to freeze out here. She thought of the back to her cart. She remembered the fire that had been set to it... she shook off the cold and moved faster through the night. The heat of Vengeance burned as hot in her heart as the lingering of chill of death that crept up her icy bones. She was running out of time. She stared into the moon. What unspoken secrets lie beneath those depths? None unlike that which pierced and provided her soul with darkness in quantities no one woman should be able to handle. She touched her stomach. “Your father would have loved you. If only he were here...” She cried. So much happened so quickly. She was alone and with child. She dropped to her knees in the snow. As it began to come down  harder she began to cry harder. The wind lashed at her. With snow covering her small body, she closed her eyes and began to submit to her icy mistress. Her body began to warm and she smiled. Death was more comfortable than she could have imagined.

* * * * * *

He kissed her deeply allowing her scent to envelop him. He bit her bottom lip, giving her a moment to catch her breath. His dark hands sailed through her brown hair. The red highlights always brought out the dark honey color of her eyes, he thought. His fingers ran through her hair, ultimately intertwining with hers. She pressed her body against his, feeling his heart beating faster and louder than she had ever heard. His kisses became bites as he slowly edged her towards the bed. The air was hot with lust. He bit her neck. She gave a low growl and dug her nails into his back. He winced , but returned the favor. He enjoyed her pain. He kissed her again and began to move down her body, biting everything, leaving nothing unserviced. She squirmed and moaned as he reached her back dimples. He clawed her back. She moaned even louder. She bit his ear and whispered, “Please, take me. I need you.” He smiled devilishly at her and said, “I will, but there is just one thing I have to do...”

He awoke with her still wrapped around his body. He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. He rolled back the cover, exposed, supple breast. He loved to look at her like that. Her slender frame  peeking from beneath the sheets, yet covered enough to always power the imagination. He walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He noticed age was beginning to take shape on his face. It had been 4 years since that day...

He splashed water in his face and got in the shower. Soon after, the scent of bacon and sweet syrup wafted through the air. He walked into the kitchen to discover his lover making breakfast. “You always did know how to dress for the occasion,” he said to her as he caressed her naked body. “My mother always told me men will always eat the first thing they see,” She told him. “So what are you having? Me or the bacon?” He leaned in and pecked her on the lips. “How about both?”

“Mr. Richardson, you have a call on line one.” His secretary told him. Anthony sighed and rubbed his temple. There was so much work to be done and so little time. He wasn't sure if he would actually manage. He picked up the phone. 

“Hey Anthony. This is Sarah. Have you got a minute?”

 He looked at the clock and rolled his eyes. “Sure Sarah. Talk to me.” 

“Well the kids are doing fine, thanks for asking. Michael is starting his first day of school tomorrow. He's been asking if you would be there all week. I haven't been sure how to answer him.” 

“Tell him I'll do the best I can.” 

“That's not good enough Tony. You know that.” 

“Well that's the best I can do.”

“Tony you remember your promise? You said you would take care of these kids. You said you would guard them with your life. When was the last time you actually came to see them?”

“Thats not fair. You know its not that easy. With Dad being gone, The Suits-”

“Our family needs you more! They can handle themselves for a day or two while you spend time with the boys. Is that too hard to ask?”

“Sarah, I wish I could make this easier , but I can't. I'm busting my a*s trying to make everyone happy and this is the best I can do.”

“You should probably make sure you are disappointing the wrong people. Look, I'm not doing this with you anymore, Tony. You want to come by and see them, fine. If not, I'll find someone else to fill your shoes, and wear them much better than you, for that matter.”

And with that, she hung up the phone. Anthony's head began to throb even harder. First his business, now Sarah. He began to feel as though the world he had tried so hard to thread, slowly began to unravel. 

“Kim? Tell my appointments that I'm sick today.”

Anthony changed out of his suit. He looked at it. He spent $400 on a suit that didn't mean anything. It was just a piece of clothing. “The suit is not only an extension of yourself, but of the family. You must always wear it with honor, not everyone gets this privilege, but you also need to ask yourself, Son, 'Do I wear the suit, or does the suit wear me?'” His father's words rang in his ear like bells in a church. The suit, he believed, had always been his salvation, but as time progressed, he wondered if it would be his downfall.

It had been three years since Anthony joined the family business. “Business” being a loose term, rather, he became a “shadow” consultant to many companies. He enjoyed his profession, but sometimes he was given contracts that conflicted with his moral interest. Still, a job was a job. He looked in the mirror as he drove. He touched the scar on across his cheek. He winced. After all these years it still felt raw...

He arrived at Sarah's house at 6:30. He walked to the doorstep, and was greeted by the sounds of vicious barks from a German Shepard. Sarah opened the door and just stared him down. The dog ran from under her and began to lick him furiously. He laughed. After all these years, Jordan still had a soft spot for him. 

“If you had been any other stranger, she would have killed you.”

“I know. I'm hear to see my boys.”

“Tony, we need to talk first.”

Anthony cocked his head in curiosity. Usually “We need to talk” meant someone died, someone divorced, or someone was pregnant. Sometimes all at once.

“Michael and  Jonathan have been asking to see you for months now, and you've no where to be found. Sometimes I wonder if Aliyah-”

“Don't finish that sentence,” Anthony snapped. “You know I do the best I can for those kids! I provide clothes and food for them. I even help you pay the bills! I can't always be there for events, but I make it when I have time! What they need-”

“What they need is a father. Yes, you do provide for all of their materialistic needs, but what about providing them with your time? These boys have been through a lot. They need someone to guide them down the right path. Did you know Jonathan got suspended yesterday?”

Anthony looked down and sighed. “What happened?”

“Some kid told him that his mother was a w***e and his father deserted him. The kid then told him he wouldn't become anything better than them. That's his second fight this month. The principal said if he doesn't shape up, he would be expelled by the end of December. It's October, Tony. He needs you. I'm not going to try to guilt you into anything, but I am going to remind you of your responsibility every chance I get. Please let this be the last time.”

Anthony said nothing to her and walked through the door. 

“John! Mike! Where are you guys?”

The youngest of the two boys ran down the stairs yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!” Anthony picked the small child up. 

“How have you been Mike? You ready to start Preschool tomorrow?” 

Mike, smiled and buried his face into Anthony's shoulder. “Daddy I'm scared. What if the other kids don't like me?

“You make them like you. Just be yourself, and you'll make friends. I promise.”

“But what if they make fun of my head?”

Hearing that hurt Anthony's heart. Michael was born premature, being so, he also came with many defects. He began having muscle spasms at two years old, since then there were sensors placed in his head to control them, and he was permanently bald in spots where the sensors were placed.

Anthony kissed his forehead.

“If they make fun of you, tell them you're a robot. Make sure you beep and boop whenever they do.”

Anthony imitated a robot, making Michael laugh and clap enthusiastically.

“Will you go to school with me tomorrow?

Anthony smiled warmly. “Of course kiddo.” Michael hugged Anthony's leg and said, “I love you Dad.”

“I love you too, Mike.”

Soon, Anthony looked up to see Johnathan staring at him from the top of the stairs. He rolled his eyes and walked away. Anthony walked up the stairs to Johnathan's room.

“What do you want?” John snapped.

“I came here to see you guys. How have you been?”

John scoffed at him. “As if you cared. Why are you here?”

“Sarah told me you had been in a fight. Want to talk about it?”

“Go to hell. You only ever show up when someone is in trouble. What the hell do you care about us? What the hell do you know?” John began to yell.

Anthony picked up a baseball. “You know, whenever I had a rough day, my father would always take me out back and toss the baseball around with me while we talked. That way, if I said the wrong thing, he could just beam it at me and call it an accident. Sound like fun?”

“Tempting but I'm going to pass. What don't you go toss around your girlfriend, if she isn't already being tossed up,” John stated smugly.

“You don't think I want to change how often I'm with you and you're brother? You think I like being called a dead beat because I'm not around? I can't Jonathan! I can't!” Anthony yelled.

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? You made those choices! You picked alcohol over us. You'll get no sympathy from me,” John said bluntly.

It was true, to cope with his failures, Anthony had turn to that terrible drink. If she hadn't died...

“I'm sorry John. I'm trying. I really am.” Anthony said, tears beginning to fill his eyes. He turned away to spare John the sight and save his dignity. He walked down the stairs only to be greeted by Sarah staring at him expectantly.

“You see what sort of pain you cause them? Every day Michael talks nonstop about you, wondering when the next time you come by will be, and every morning Johnathan tries to crush his dreams, telling him you're never coming back. Sometimes, I seriously wonder whose right,” She said with a sigh. “Anyways, thank you for stopping by, will you be back tomorrow to pick up Michael?”

“Of course. There's nothing I want more.”

The thunder roared from above. The rain drops at first came in a cooling mist, but soon formed into blinding daggers. Anthony dashed to his car, becoming thoroughly soaked in the process. “He drove away from Sarah's house, his boys. His life. He yelled out in frustration. How could he let things get this bad? It was bad enough with Dad leaving the business in his hands, but now he was in danger of losing the only people he loved. He took a swig of whiskey. He wasn't sure how he would manage, but he knew he had no choice but to do so.

As the night moved in, Anthony returned to the office. When he got there, Ben greeted him. Ben was one of the custodians Anthony became associated with over the course of his career. “We got a couple of buyers wanting 20 cases. They're offering $30 a case.” Anthony looked surprised to hear those numbers. Anthony also learned that Ben was a business man at heart. He once explained to Anthony why he never wanted to “officially” go into business. “The way I see it, you got the Royals (that's you) and we got the Numbers (that's me). I'd rather be able to conduct business in secrecy than have my business scrutinized every time I s**t or cough. Much less messy that way too.” 

“Well tell our 'partners' to meet me by the docks. Tell Johnny and Horace to get ready to come with me. “Right away boss,” Ben said as Anthony slipped him a $20.

Anthony met with his men behind the office buildings. “Everything alright Boss? You seem a little off today.” Horace said as his cigar smoke mixed with the pollution of the city. He ran his fingers through his dark red hair. Horace was a fairly tall and well built man, towering above Anthony at 6'3.

“If there was something wrong he would have already said something, you idiot. Isn't that right, Boss?” Johnny snapped at Horace. Johnny was fairly shorter, but noticeably the more dominant of the two. Sometimes it was hard for Anthony to believe that Johnny was the older brother. Horace grunted at his brother. “No it's alright. Just dealing with a couple things with the boys. Sarah's riding my a*s hard this time.” Anthony sighed.

“What did Jo do this time?” Johnny asked as the three men walked. 

Anthony laughed. “I didn't even say it was him.”

Johnny smiled at his boss. “Cut the bullshit. Only time you ever seem off is when he is showing his a*s. So whats the scoop?”

“Fighting. Yesterday some kid called Aliyah a w***e and me a deserter. He lost it.” Anthony said.

“I hope he broke the kid's f****n' jaw. Little b*****d.” Horace said, taking a deep drag from the cigar.

“For all the s**t the principal said, I hope so too. Sarah told me that if this keeps up, he'll be expelled. I can't let that happen. His mother would never forgive me if I did...”

“Well what do you gotta do boss?” Horace asked.

Anthony stopped for a moment and smiled. “Be a better father.”

As they reached the docks, they were stopped by a group of ten men. “You must be the customer,” Anthony said calmly. As a small man stepped from between the men. He couldn't have been older than 35, and yet he was already balding.

“I'm surprised you came in person, Mr. Richardson. Andretti Holmes,” the man said, extending his hand.

“You know what the say about great leaders, Holmes.” Anthony said as they shook hands.

“You'll have to tell me later. Right now, I'm here to strike a deal. You see, my employer has been interested in your Suits for quite some time. He has sent me here to bargain with you for them.” Holmes said.

Anthony shook his head in disappointment. “And here I thought we were going to be able to do some business. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, from one business man to another, I'm going to have to respectfully decline. Have a good night sir,” he said as he walked away.

“I'm afraid its not that simple. You see, my employer is willing to offer double of what your business is currently worth, and that's somewhere towards about $500,000. He could make you a very rich man, Mr. Richardson.”

“We're not for sale, Mr. Holmes.” Anthony said as he continued to walk. He could sense the tension in the air rising. A single crossbow bolt landed near Anthony's left foot. Anthony stopped. “Mr. Holmes, thinking very carefully about your next actions. The Suits are not for sale, nor will we ever be as long as I lead them. I want to walk away from this transaction with no blood on my hands. Please don't change that.”

“That's too bad. I wanted the same thing, Richardson. It looks like I'll just have to take The Suits from you then.” Holmes said defiantly. His men brandished swords and weapons and began to close in on the trio. Anthony looked at Horace and Johnny and quietly said, “Kill them.” The two men pulled their weapons from beneath their coats and began advancing on the opposing squad. Horace brandished a wooden baseball bat as Johnny wore his spiked brass knuckles. “$50 says I can pull off more kills than you will tonight.” Johnny said to his little brother. “You're on.” Anthony pulled his own Combat Knife from his belt. “If I win, I'll be having both of your paychecks for the next month.”

Anthony gracefully moved about the men, blood mixing with sweat and saliva. The moon hung eerily in sky, casting a glow almost supernatural upon the blade. “Through Honor, Glory is Obtained” The words etched into the ancient blade became a shade of crimson and blood flowed into its gorges. Horace swung his bat with primal strength, decapitating a man before moving to the next. His heart pounded heavily as the battle raged on. This was his first true battle! He howled with blood-lust. The more he fought, the more frenzied he became. One of them gave Horace a slash across the chest. Horace gasped as he held his chest. He stared at his own blood pouring from the wound. “Not so mighty are you, ogre?” The man taunted. Horace gave a menacing smile as he threw down his bat and grabbed the man's skull with his bare hands. Horace lifted the man off the ground as he crushed him. The man's screams excited Horace as he squeezed harder, until, finally, the screams stopped. Horace through the man to the ground, leaving a body and what remained of its brain matter.

Johnny took up a boxing stance stance as he approached the men. One man let loose a few rounds from his revolver as Johnny dove behind a truck. “Stop shooting, you idiot! You'll attract the Fuzz!” Holmes yelled at the man. Caught off guard, the man dropped the revolver. Johnny seized the moment to attack. Johnny aimed for the man's throat with his knuckles and dug in. As he did this, He dragged the spikes across the man's windpipe, effectively ripping out his throat. The man could only attempt in futility to withhold the blood that began to squirt and gush from that gaping wound. Johnny turned upon his next prey, shoving his fist deep into the man's stomach. The man through a few punches to keep the advancing Johnny away, but these provided little to no refuge. With great strength and dexterity, Johnny picked up the man and through him into the other forces, while firing the his own pistol a moment later. As he continued his attack, one of the assailants maneuvered behind him. Johnny noticed only moments after he had been stuck over the head with a glass bottle, and his world went black. 

As the men fell, Holmes yelled, “Richardson let me walk away from this alive, or I'll be bringing your friend with me. Holmes stood there with a blade to the unconcious Johnny's neck. The blade quivered in Holmes hand, causing a slight cut along Johnny's neck. Sweat beaded on Anthony's brow. This looked bad. He couldn't risk pulling his revolver, it would only cause Holmes to kill Johnny in a panic. Anthony slowly nudged forward. “It doesn't have to end like this, Holmes. Let the kid go and we can talk things over. Holmes, while visibly shaking, said, “Now you want to talk? I have to hold a blade to the neck of one of your friends, to get you to listen. Is that what it takes?” Anthony, stopped for a moment. How could he let this happen? “Alright, we can talk jus-” two shots rang out. Before Anthony could register what just happened he saw it. Blood. It began trickling down Johnny. Holmes dropped the boy and Anthony seized his opportunity. He closed in on Holmes and smashed his knee cap with a bat. Holmes dropped to his knees. Anthony pulled out his combat knife and held it to the small man's neck. “A great leader fights, eats, sleeps, and dies as one of his men.” Anthony looked Holmes in the eye as he said, “He also will kill as one.” Anthony quickly slashed Holmes across throat, allowing a cascade of blood to flow from the wound. He looked over the body. Holmes had been shot in both of his shoulders just then. Anthony turned around to see Horace holding his pistols. Anthony looked at Johnny as he lit a cigarette. “Get up kid. Leave a card. Let everyone know The Suits were here.”

Still slightly dazed, Johnny said, “On your orders, Boss.” He removed a card from his his pocket and threw it at the the little man. The Ace of Clubs.

“Wake up. Today, I'm going to show you what I do for a living.” A man said to a teenager as he pushed him out of bed. “I want you to wear this. It will be the first of many you wear through out your life. Get used to it.”

“But Dad, today me and Aliyah were going to-”

“Not any more you aren't. Anthony, you're 17 now. Your mother hates the idea of it, but I think its time you learned the family trade. Are you ready?” Anthony had been asking for years what his father did for a living. Each time, his father handed him a card and cryptically said, “I'm the Ace of Clubs. Soon, you will be too.” His father pulled out a deck of cards and asked Anthony. “What does the club stand for?”

Anthony looked at him puzzled. “What? I don't know Dad, why are you asking me?” His father pulled out a card. “Look closely at it. Notice how the three edges are all equally round. What do you think that means?” Anthony took the card into his hands. “It means the artist liked curves,” Anthony joked. “No Son. The Edges each stand for The Ace and his Soldiers. Each edge is equally curved, meaning there is equality among the ranks. The Ace is no better than his Soldiers. A great leader  must eat, sleep, fight, and die as one of his men.”

“That's great and all, but what does that have to do with your job?” Anthony asked, growing more impatient and confused as the talk progressed.

“You see Anthony, I am Jerimiah Richardson, Ace of Clubs. I am the leader of The Suits.” Jerimiah said. Anthony laughed. “That's hilarious Dad. Here I seriously thought you were going to make me do something worthwhile today. I'm going back to bed.”

“Son, look into my eyes and tell me I'm lying.” Jerimiah said. Anthony looked deep into his father's eyes, fear and amazement gathering in his own. “You're telling the truth. You ARE the leader of The Suits. Why didn't you ever tell me?” 

“Because you weren't ready for the truth. If I told you when you were younger, you would have exposed our family, putting us all in danger.”

The gravity of his father's words began to sink in. “Dad, if you're the leader of the Suits... you've killed a lot of people, haven't you?”

Jerimiah looked away from his son. “Yes, I have.”

“You're going to kill more, aren't you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Does that mean I will have to kill people?”

“Yes...it does.”

Reviews

[KidAnthony]

If you like the Chapter, feel free to hit the share button as much as you like! More exposure= more criticism = higher quality work. Thanks again for reading!

[Paxton Gordon]

I like this. Very Exciting, and emotional and suspenseful. Next Chapter please.