~~~Maria:
May 1st, 2019
I sit in my law firm, talking to all the lawyers. My cover job was the fact that I was a frugal business woman who decided to invest in properties. I decided to invest I multiple properties though all of these properties were attached to funds or strip-clubs. I needed law-firms in order to help me get by and a lot of these guys needed new buildings. As long as these guys were on my pay-roll, it was fine.
I had other people on it and I could honestly say it was nice spending the money to keep my properties private. It was nice spending the money knowing that any time these police officers harassed or destroy the property, there would be someone who could charge them. Of course, none of my lawyers lived in the building, they all worked separately. These lawyers were just some up and coming gentlemen who wanted to establish a firm and they knew someone who wanted to help them out.
I sit in my office building and I organize my papers for all my legit work. As I finish the paperwork, I collect the funds from the lawyers. 'Thank you, Ms. Smirnoff for the building and for giving us a fair rent,' one of the young men say. I smile as I say to them, "Thank you for being valued tenants. 'Will you be coming to the Christmas party this year?' I hear another one pipe up, "No unfortunately not. As much as I'd love to see your gentleman in action, I don't think it'd be in my best interest to be there or yours. I don't want to cause a conflict of interest,"
One of the young men smile and for the life of me, I can only remember two of their names. The overweight one was named Charles Whitiger, the other one's name was Michael Heinz and the third guy, I couldn't tell you. Michael was bland and oozed a prep vibe, I bet his father could sue me for hundreds of thousands of dollars if I even so much as smacked Michael. The third gentleman is the one who was chatting me up, I couldn't remember his name and I didn't want to waste my time, trying to.
It's then that his friend says, 'Now Ivan, you know how Ms. Smirnoff gets when you talk too much, lest you forget the past,' The fatter one said in an old-man wise tone. I chuckle as I turn a bit red, "Unfortunately, everything's okay. I was just out-of-character that time," I hate when people have nothing better to say, I know he liked me but didn't want to admit it. It's okay to like someone, just don't waste their time. I take it because he might be young but he looks like the type who doesn't like to speak his mind.
Ivan was a nice gentleman, he just wasn't my type. My father killed any notion of me liking anyone Russian. I did try it, dating within my race once or twice, but no, it wasn't worth it, not when they only wanted the power I had. I find myself, drifting off to Booker, I find myself thinking about him every part of these last couple days. Hours pass and I look this young man in the face, I had already left the law firm and I had an urgent call.
A snitch was in my group, I pushed the thoughts of Booker out of my head and look at this man, look at another one of my trusted men who betrayed me. 'Ms. Smirnoff, it's not what it looks like,' We sit in his house, I sit on his comfortable couch while I look at all the things my money afforded him. He lived in the suburbs, a place for his wife and his son. He was one of my lawyers before I fired him a while ago, apparently he didn't take client secrecy to heart. "So, then why am I here, Alexander? If you didn't tell them anything, why am I here?" 'I swear on my mom's life,' "Your mother no longer has a life to wager,"
He looks at her body, laying strewn with her blood painting a very grisly tale. 'Why did you shoot her?' He said in a pleading voice before he got back to begging. I then looked at him and said, "Why? Because I know she was an addict, because I know you started helping me out because of her. You had been helping me for the last ten years back in my earlier years," Alexander was a man in his 40's, he had saw what I grew up in and saw how I handled the coup d'état as a young woman. I was groomed to be the leader of my father's gang, the American pronunciation is the Boogie Man's Killers.
"Do you know why my father chose a barbaric name for his gang?" I ask him. He looks at me with heart in his eyes, 'Yes, your father was a former KGB operative,' I smiled and said "Yes, he was. He specialized in torture, smuggling and making people disappear," 'If you're going to kill me, please don't kill my wife and kids,' I put a finger up to him, silencing anything he has to say as I then say to him, "If you speak again, I'll have one of these men knock your mouth out your fucking teeth,' It's then that Gregor stands close to him, carelessly stepping on his dead mother's hand.
"He called this group that because my father's favorite pas-time were to hunt down mothers and fathers who abused their children. He stated simply that he loved killing bad men. Drugs, money, power, that all meant nothing. He just loved killing bad men," I say with a smile. "Of course over the years," I say while gesturing towards his dead mother, "He had soft spots, he loved to forgive women if he knew what they were going through but let's be honest," I say, crossing my legs in my black slacks with my grey high heels.
"Your mother knew my father even before me and you were born, when he was just an immigrant trying to live the American dream. The only reason you remained employed under my father was because of everything you knew and the history my father had with your mother. Now, here we are" 'I didn't tell them anything, please believe me,' "So then why did the BCPD know exactly what safe house to raid two days ago?" It's then that Gregory picks him up by his face, 'I know you heard her, answer her before I knock your teeth in,' "Gregory, that's enough," 'I told them everything because I didn't have a choice. They knew my mother was a dope addict. I knew your habits because you do everything like your dad does. I didn't know,'
"Gregory, punch him in the mouth please," I say, interrupting him. Gregory punches him so hard in the face, I see several teeth fly out of his mouth. I look at my calm white friend, Alexander and I say, "You know my father and you knew me well enough to stab me in the back," I take a deep breath, disappointed in what I'm about to do, "I need everything and I need all of the information now," He gets up and rushes upstairs. He comes downstairs, handing me a laptop and a storage bin, I look at all of the information and say, "Is this enough?" He takes a deep breath and says, 'I swear on my life,'
Blood oozing from his mouth, but desperation in his eyes. He wanted to live desperately, the police may have rattled him but I terrify him. 'It's everything,' he says to me. I look at him as I say, "You know the unfortunate part of this," His eyes widen as I answer for him, "The unfortunate part of this is that dead mice don't squeak," I pull out my Makarov Russian pistol, 'No please, you said,' "No Gregory, hold him," I say, calmly while I put a silencer on it.
"I don't want to attract too much attention and personally, I'd rather this look like a suicide so if you struggle, I'll have to kill your children, too" He stops struggling as he realized there was no way out. I put the gun to his temple and I say, "Now, hold it," He puts it to his temple as Gregory maintains a strong grip on his wrist. The silencer was small and just close enough.
It's then that I pull the trigger, his blood painting the wall across from him and getting all over me and Gregory. He ruins my favorite grey fur coat and my black dress-shirt, I leave the weapon and the rounds in his hand, only bothering to remove the silencer, placing it inside of my bag. I call for a clean-up to make it look like a suicide and I turn the heater on, I sit in the car and as we're being driven to the suburbs of South Baltimore, I get a wet napkin and wipe my face.
Today has certainly been a day, I think to myself.
~~~Booker
I sit in the bakery, a month after everything happened. The bakery is struggling and I actually had to hire someone. His name's Paul, he's a pretty nice guy although a bit of a chatterbox. I'm not used to people talking my head off but that's probably how Junior and Belle felt. He's part-time and he only comes in the mornings while I close.
I go through the bills and realize the bakery isn't struggling because I can hire someone. It's the fact that I don't have a lot of time to maintain it. I haven't had enough time to train Paul, I don't have enough time to train him and I should invest in training him. He has bakery skills. 'Hey Mr. B, I'm leaving,' I nod and say, "Alright, don't forget checks come out on Friday," He nods as he leaves, I finish meal-prepping for tomorrow and I look at the time. It's already 6:00, I'm not going to make it to meeting the kids in time, not that they'll want to talk to me.
Some part of me wonders if I should just stop. I push the thought out of my head and I finish meal-prep as I lock the door. It was already 6:45 as I make my way to meeting Junior and Belle, I make it to my house and I see Junior and Belle, getting sitting there. Belle's eyes disappointed and Junior looking at me, saying 'Was the bakery that bad for you, buddy?' "Sorry, you know it's been difficult," I say, trying not to be upset with Booker.
'I know,' he says with a smile. 'Having two people quit at the same time can be a lot,' My feelings were hurt as I said, "Booker, no one's forcing you to come here," 'Oh so it finally comes out, you don't want me to come,' "I didn't say that, Booker and you know that," 'Well, what are you saying?' "I'm saying I don't mind visiting my children and I don't mind my children visiting me but you heard the judge," I say.
Booker then says, 'I'm not trying to hear that, old man,' 'Booker, you don't have to be so disrespectful, he's our dad' 'Disrespectful? This asshole abandoned us for three days,' 'Booker, you know it's because he was in the hospital,' I didn't expect to be in the hospital," I say to them. 'So, then why does mom say you're lying? Maybe you just went to the hospital to stay away from us,' "So, I'd get shot twice to stay in the hospital? I'd get shot in the back just to go to the hospital?" He then points his finger at me and says, 'You're an inconsiderate and selfish bastard. You should leave mom alone and you should leave us alone,'
I don't know what came over me in that moment but I grabbed him by the shirt as I said, "You are a fucking fool. I never had a problem with anything I did for you. If you don't want to come back, there's the door," I say to him, too harshly. I see the fear in his eyes, it's clear he never respected me as a man. It's a wonder he didn't try this sooner. He then says, 'What are you gonna do? Hit me like you beat around Mom?' "I never beat your mother and I've never given your mother a scar. If anything, she spent years, emotionally abusing me and cheating," It's then that Belle put her hand over my hand as she says, 'Dad, let go of Booker,'
I release my grip when I realize I had not let him go. He had his mother's mouth, I'll give him that much. Belle then says, 'Booker, it's time to go. Visitation hours are almost over anyway,' I find myself, calm because now I see how it has to be. They wont' see the truth themselves, they actually have to see their mother do the things she does. I didn't want my children to grow up, questioning me or to grow up, not liking me but I fear this is the only option I have.
If I keep fighting, they'll think I'm trying to cover something up and if I stop fighting, they'll think I've given up. I've never given up on my children, I've always loved them though now, it seems like it's going to be harder. It seems like I'm going to be tested to my limits. As they leave, I hear Booker say, 'You don't ever have to worry about being my father, I fucking hate you.'
I sit on the couch and I sulk and then I start to cry.
End of Chapter 7: Open Doors/Closed Hearts