Ch.7

Carmine

"Good god." I sighed in relief as the hot water began cascading down my back.

I was sore and the stress was becoming annoying. But, somehow, I couldn't get enough of it.

I ran my hand through my hair a few times before finally turning the water off. Suddenly the sound of my phone ringing filled my ears.

"Fuck off," I said and tossed it onto the bed. I was off duty.

The phone kept ringing as I got changed and attempted to fix my hair. By 'fix' I mean, running my hands through it enough times for it to be slicked back.

It never worked. There were always loose strands falling down over my forehead.

I didn't care though and I doubt anyone else would.

The phone just kept ringing and finally it got to the point where if I didn't answer it, I'd end up breaking it.

"Detective Vasquez." I said, no doubt sounding annoyed.

"There's been another murder." Richmond began just spilling details, not even waiting for a response.

Apparently an older man, probably late 30's, had been tied to a few bricks and thrown into the local lake.

He was missing teeth and all of his fingers.

Whoever did this, did not want him to be identified.

"One more thing, Vasquez," Richmond lowered his voice- was he at the precinct?

"What's up, Rookie?" I asked looking around my room for my badge and gun.

"That don girl, Olive Semone? She left the hospital last night. She didn't wait to get discharged." He gave me a quick run down and sent a patrol car to her house but there was no sign of her.

"I'll be there in 30, check the cams." I hung up the phone and anger began to boil.

She was going to get herself fucking killed and the rest of Boston would have to pay for it.

•••

Olive

I thought that I'd feel worse then I did. I thought that maybe I'd regret leaving the hospital. But this pain medicine? This was fucking amazing.

I felt lighter then I had in years. I couldn't stop smiling as I navigated the streets of my home. Some people would find the amount of homeless people or broken glass bottles unsettling. I know the tourists do.

But when you have lived here your entire life, you grow accustom to these things.

I finally spotted the dirt path to the Semone Mansion. Home sweet home. I swear to god if my front stoop is stained red, I will resurrect that coward and kill him myself.

My father had killed a lot of people over the years. Sometimes it was by his hand, other times it was by his crew's hand. Either way, a lot of them died on our property.

But every time we were investigated, we were not caught. No evidence was ever found. How am I supposed to live up to my father's expectations?

All of the years he was in charge, A hit wasn't put out on him.

Until he got cancer, he was never hospitalized.

Ive been in charge for less then a year and I've been sold fake bullets, threatened, and hospitalized.

"God damn it." I sighed as I looked down at my front stoop. There were spots of red. I looked up at the front door, expecting more red. There was no red, but the handle on the door was loose and the door was cracked open.

I took a slow and quiet step backwards, off of the stoop and to the left. We hid sidearms in the bushes as a safety measure

I walked a few paces to the left before slowly reaching down. My chest screamed in pain and I could feel the stitches tightening. I need more pain medicine.

I felt around until i felt the cool metal of a pistol. I picked it up and checked to see if it was loaded.

Thankfully, it was.

I crept back up to the door and gently pushed the door open. Books, glass, bullet casings, and furniture were scattered all around the floor.

I suppose they knew I wouldn't be home and broke in. Nothing of value is kept here. All of my money, all of my ammunition cases, and all of my family heirlooms were kept in a vault on the beaches of Hawaii.

"Hello," I called loudly. The intruders would be long gone, but hopefully my crew was still around and intact.

Idiotos. How did they allow this to happen?

I walked slowly throughout the mansion, following a trail of blood. It lead to closed double doors. The study was on the other side.

No one was allowed in here - no matter what.

I held my breath as I slowly turned the door handled and pushed in.

At first it seemed normal, my father's study was perfectly fine. But when I walked deeper into the room the smell of copper hit me like a ton of bricks.

I turned and my eyes widened.