Page 54 of Chubs

“Hopefully, only a few weeks, and thank you. Things will be easier if we’re not worried about you and Mom too. With Les taking a leave of absence from the bank and you two out of danger, we can accomplish things quicker, I hope,” I reply while pulling her to me for a brief hug.

“I better go start making some calls, then. When do you want us on the road?” Aria asks as she steps back.

“Leaving during the night is best, so midnight tomorrow. Pack what you need and get a nap if you can because you’ll be doing most of the driving. You need to get there as soon as you can, so you won’t get much rest along the way. We need to go speak with Mom now. Thanks, little sister.”

“Talk to you in a while,” she says, then walks for the staircase.

“Let’s go convince our mother to leave her sons behind to keep her daughter safe,” I mumble, and Les follows me to the kitchen.

The next evening, having convinced the women this is the best move, I sit down at Mom’s desk and write a note. When I’m finished, I walk to the backpack I left by the door and slide the note inside. Double-checking the contents of the backpack, I can’t think of anything I forgot that the women would need. Heading back to the kitchen, I find Les packing a cooler for them. I add some drinks, then make a thermos of coffee and sit it beside the cooler. When Les finishes, we each pour a cup of coffee and take a seat.

“After they’re gone, are we staying here or the hotel?” Les questions.

“We’ll stay here tonight. Too much movement might attract attention, and we need to avoid that. Tomorrow, we’ll move to a new hotel,” I answer.

“We set our bags by the garage door. We’re ready,” Mom states as she enters the kitchen.

I stand and pull her into my arms for a hug. I hate having just been reunited with her and Aria, and now we’re being separated again.

“Please be safe and keep your brother that way too,” she whispers.

“We’ll be safe, and we’ll stay in contact with you. You remember everything I told you, right?”

“Yes, I do. The note is inside the backpack, along with cash, guns, and ammo. Drive straight there, stopping only for gas or necessities. Keep our eyes open and alert. Leave our cell phones here and only use the one you gave us,” she answers as she steps back.

“And don’t tell anyone anything except what you instructed us to say,” Aria adds somewhat sarcastically as she enters the room.

“Thank you, and again, I’m sorry all of this is happening, but it’s our best option for now. Les and I’ll stay in contact and call if anything happens. You are armed for a reason. Don’t hesitate to protect yourself and Mom if needed,” I state in a serious voice.

“We’ll call or text when we get there. Be safe, brothers. You still owe me for losing that bet years back, and I aim to get paid,” Aria says with a wicked grin before giving me and Les each a hug.

“What bet?” I ask curiously.

“The one that ruined Mom’s view of me as her little princess. Who could spit the farthest, and I kicked both your asses. You each owe me a triple scoop at Willard’s Ice Cream Shop.”

“Forgot about that. Whatever flavor you want, it’s yours,” I answer with my own grin.

Once we get everything loaded into their car, I head back inside so I’m not spotted when they leave. Les waves them off from the garage and then joins me watching from behind the living room curtain. After several minutes of no other vehicles moving on the street, and we feel comfortable that they’re not being followed, we head back to the kitchen.

Time to fuel up for what needs to be done.

With my brother’s help and knowledge of all things Vero, our reign of terror on them picks up its pace. Every few days, one of their members or businesses gets taken down or destroyed. Several of the lower-ranking members have found themselves locked in an abandoned warehouse awaiting their fate. Wearing masks and gloves to hide our identities, we make sure they have food and water but no other necessities. Not torture, but not fun either. They’re not happy little mafia bitches, and most are scared shitless with countless hours to think about what their future, if they have one, will hold.

The biggest problem we face, though, is getting to the top members. They’re well-guarded, especially now, and most are lying low. We’ll need some way to lure them out, and I have no idea what that will be.

“I’m not sure we have to get to the top, Drew. They only have enough men left to guard them, and their businesses are either destroyed, needing lots of repairs, or are closed because of all that’s happened,” Les reasons.

“You might be right. Maybe what we should do is let the other families know just how weak Vero is right now. Let them do the rest,” I answer.

I have no beef with the other organized crime families in Chicago, and I matter zero to them. I’m not here to rid Chicago of its crime problems. I’m here to ensure that me and my family can start leading normal lives. A life where Aria isn’t forced to marry someone, especially a monster. A life where Les can go to work without watching over his shoulder. Where he can feel comfortable enough to maybe marry and have children someday. Where I could maybe, just maybe, do the same thing. Mom could be out from under the Vero’s thumb and watchful eye and not live her life as a messenger between them and her husband. Maybe she could finally move on from Enzo and start a new life of her own. While I love my father, he made his choices and needs to live with them. We didn’t and deserve our own lives.

“Let’s take today off and think how best to go about that. No matter what, though, I’m going to locate the two FBI agents that forced me into their form of WITSEC. They owe me, and I am going to collect,” I state in a grim voice.

“We should look into The U.S. Marshal’s Service then too. They’re the ones actually in control of WITSEC, not FBI. So, the agents either lied about who they worked for or they had dirty friends within. Keep in mind, they may not still be breathing. They were working for the wrong side, and after you were supposedly blown up in that car, the family may have tied up those loose ends,” Les advises.

“True, but I’ve always gotten the feeling that my supposed death was to cover up the fact that I escaped them. They would’ve most likely been killed if the family knew I had gotten away. I’ve never had any reason to believe the family thinks anything other than I’m dead. What I haven’t figured out, though, is how and why did two more Feds show up in Denver looking for me. How did they know I was still alive, and how did they find me? Are they actually building a new case against the Veros, or was that a ploy to get me back here, away from the club and Denver? If the two from Denver are working for the family, then the family would know I’m alive, and some move would’ve been made against you, Aria, and Mom. Maybe even Dad if they thought he was aware I was alive, and yet none of that happened. I can assume things, but until I track these agents down, I won’t know for sure.”

“Then let’s take a break from what we’ve been doing and concentrate on the agents and their whereabouts,” Les suggests.

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