Chapter Twenty Seven - Dynamite - ✓

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"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves."

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Chapter Twenty Seven - Rose's point of view

New York City

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To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I finally got the truth I yearned for so much. I almost wish I could go back to being ignorant. Almost. But to be honest, I had to know. I would have always wondered why such a tragedy happened to me.

When Eric and I got home, we sent Lisa away. Jake was asleep and I opened the lock box with the key my father hid in our kitchen. I found a total of five things: a journal, $20,000 in cash, a pair of rings, a ledger, and a photograph.

I looked at Eric who looked about as shocked as me. I took the journal and sat on the couch.

To whomever reads this, know one thing. I did not sign up for the way my life ended and wish I would have said no when I was younger. This is my story.

When I was nineteen and living on my own, day to day, with menial jobs I met a man named Brandon Williams. I was never the one for friends as I grew up a very troubled and angry kid. He was a rich prick and I hated him at first. Eventually, I started to deal with him and we worked together to figure out what we were gonna do with our lives. We moved to New York, hoping to find some job that would take us both. What kind of job? We had no clue. When we were walking one day we saw a group of men rounding an alleyway. One guy, the biggest of them all, approached us. He began asking questions about us- who we were and what we did. We simply responded with 'I don't know' and he rolled with it. He asked if we were in the business of making money and we obviously perked up and listened. He asked if we didn't mind bruising a few laws here and there. Brandon seemed hesitant but I was willing to take on anything and anyone- even if I lost my soul in the process.

Bull, as he called himself, turned out to be a drug trafficker. Brandon (the Match) and I (Dynamite) started on the bottom of the totem pole. We did menial stupid jobs for years. Take a package here and there and don't question it. If you questioned an order it usually ended in a head-butt with a gun or a nice punch that hurt like hell. Match was always the worrying one. I just did what was told and rolled with the punches, so to say. Eventually, we climbed out way up to the top. Bull always had those he trusted most with him at all times. We weren't there yet.

Bull had his operation going out of a shipping warehouse on the harbor. The DEA had their suspicions but Bull always cut off any loose ends and never did anything to expose his business. He ran shop well. His main import / export was cocaine. He'd import within coffee bean containers that masked the smell from drug dogs. A coffee corporation, as he'd say.

Eventually I became Bull's right hand man. Ten years of service, and I was finally the man next to the man. Match bailed on me and moved elsewhere and I continued on my path. I did horrible, horrendous things in the name of 'business'. I lost contact with any family I still had and continued on my own. After working under Bull for so long, I broke off my ties with him. It was tough and he didn't wanna let me go but I managed to get people to follow me and we became rivals.

I'm skipping the grueling parts for now but there are other entries in here that can explain the little things in my life. Going on with the bigger picture, I had people under me. I quickly used the skills I obtained from working with Bull and because the leading drug trafficker in New York. I made enemy after enemy. My life didn't start to perk up until I met Selena. The beautiful goddess Selena.

Suddenly, I snapped up. Jake started crying and I hadn't realized I was reading for so long. I went to get Jake back to sleep, which he managed after he ate. I looked at Eric.

"Why did you let me read for so long?" I asked.

"You read intently. Figured I'd let you do your own thing," he replied.

I nodded and went back to the couch.

I met Selena at a bar. The Main Street Pub, to be exact. God knows what it's called now. It was a typical Thursday night and I sat in the VIP corner with my guards waiting for the usual business to roll through.

I happened to glance up and see this beautiful girl at the bar, alone. She looked around but she didn't fit in with the regulars on Thursday nights. I excused myself from the group and made my way over to her. I remember our conversation that night, thought I don't think it's relevant. She knew I was someone here  but she stayed ignorant to my ways. I quickly fell for her, like I never had before. I never focused much time on women, they simply couldn't be worth my time. Selena, though, was different.

She quickly became the center of my world. I began to hand business over to others and slowly slipped away from my duties at work. Word of this spread quickly underground and other gained confidence in attacking our shipments, whatever it was. Selena became pregnant and a baby boy, we named John, was born.

For Selena's 26th birthday, I surprised her with a skiing trip in Colorado. John was with Selena's mother and it was a getaway from us. It was on that trip that I decided to get out of the business and lead as normal of a life as was possible for me. A couple days into the trip, I got a surprise visit from Bull. Selena, not knowing my past, heard him knock. When she asked who it was and I heard that voice I tried to warn her. It was too late. Bull had shot through the door and Selena was dead in seconds. I never got to propose. I was fueled with rage and fought him to the death. My battle with the neighboring drug trafficking ring was over but the war had just begun.

I went back to New York hoping to achieve some sort of revenge. I was ruthless in finding all of Bull's old contacts and killing every last one of them. My anger got the best of me and I ended up loosing all I had. In a moment of truth and self-recognition, I came clean to my family and hide all evidence of past crimes committed by those connected to me. I built the statue around this box. This is me, Richard Scott Lewis, coming clean. Detailed stories fill the rest of these journal pages for those interested.

When the walls were closing in and so I ran. Like a little boy scared of the dark, I ran. I couldn't hide from my past. I ordered my men to delete any trace of me anywhere. I was to become a myth. A story people told to scare people. To become a sort of fable. After I hid the evidence, I chose to commit suicide.

Take this evidence and do as you please, I wont be here to face any judgement. To any family who may one day read this, know that I am sorry but I don't expect forgiveness. I cannot forgive myself so I cannot expect you to do the same. As famous last words, you shall know that you are free to choose your path in life. No one can stop you from the choices you want to make. But you are NOT free from the consequences that will happen. You can run, but, as ever so proven, you cannot hide.



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