Page 645 of The Tempted

“You’ve met my daughters, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, watching as he walked over to the small sink and grabbed a photo taped above it of his two daughters, Nikki and Adrianna. “And your wife,” I added. “You’re a lucky man.”

“Yes, I used to be,” he agreed and brought his index finger to his lips before pressing the kiss to the photograph. “And then my luck ran out.”

He placed the photograph back in its rightful spot but continued to stare at it.

“I was about your age, married with two little girls and the biggest empire in New York. I was on top of the world, untouchable, and unstoppable, making more money than anyone could’ve imagined. My wife was dripping in diamonds and my kids didn’t want for a thing. I’d go out all night, hustle hard and come home in the morning just as Grace was getting the girls ready for school. I’d give them a quick kiss, promise there would be a surprise waiting for them when they came home and handed my wife a knot of cash. I thought that’s what made a man successful.”

I used to hate Jack’s alliance with Victor, I thought it was bad for the club to mix our organization with his. I didn’t like breaking bread with the mob and thought we ran in different circles. But I learned our club and his organization had many similarities, we were both outlaws and mostly we wanted the same things as far as our town. We wanted to keep the concrete jungle under our thumb, run shit our way, with no interference from others. We wanted to make money, and when we started to…well, we wanted to make more because stacks of hundreds under your mattress wasn’t enough. You wanted the shoeboxes in your closet full too.

“I used to think that too,” I admitted. “I was married, lost her though and when I did it didn’t matter how much I gave her it didn’t keep her in my life.”

“I know,” he said. “But you, you got a second chance,” he pointed out. “You’ll get out of here and there’ll be a life waiting for you. It’s an opportunity to live hard and fast but for the right reasons, for the reasons that make life worth living.”

He coughed heavily as if he was choking. I jumped to my feet, ready to pat him on the back but he held up a hand in protest and continued to cough up a lung.

Pride.

He still had it.

“That’s better,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“You okay?”

He stepped to me and placed his palm to my cheek and I felt like I was in the Godfather with Marlon Brando and not in a jail cell with Vic.

“Do yourself a favor...when you get out, make changes, make your life count, kid, because it’s too fucking short. Don’t fall back into old ways and don’t let breaking the law come before the one who keeps you warm at night. Don’t become me because it’ll hurt, worse than any bullet ever could—knowing your wife cries herself to sleep every night and you have two daughters you never got to walk down the aisle or dance with.”

He paused, dropped his hand and looked away before continuing.

“I’ve got a granddaughter due to be born any day now I won’t ever get to meet and a grandson who will soon forget his Pop if he hasn’t already. So ask me now, was it all worth it?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it Vic. It takes a good man to get a woman like you got, and even more special man to raise two daughters as great as yours. You must’ve done something right,” I told the man.

“Remember that when you’re breathing fresh air, kid. Remember when life gets hard there’s always another way, hang onto your woman and let her show you the way. And if you’re lucky you’ll have a couple kids…,” he smiled, fighting back another coughing fit. “And they’ll be girls. You’ll look at them and wonder how you ever pulled a trigger or dug a hole.”

The coughing won, and it took a few minutes for him regain his composure.

“Do you need a glass of water or something?”

“Water won’t cure what I have,” he muttered.

“Are you sick?”

He took a seat on the bottom bunk and glanced up at me.

“I’ve been diagnosed with lung cancer, not sure what stage yet, but I’m guessing it’s pretty far off,” he took a deep breath. “It is what it is,” he brushed an invisible piece of lint from his jumpsuit.

“Christ, I’m sorry Vic,” I muttered, running my fingers through my hair. “Does your family know?”

“No, no point in telling them,” he answered. “My girls are finally happy, genuinely happy and they’re safe. They miss their dad but they’re moving on with life, as they should. Adrianna is about to give birth and is finally living her happily ever after with Anthony. And my Nikki, well, Michael paid me a visit and told me he was going to ask her to marry him. He’s a good kid, Val would be proud. Then there’s my Gracie, and I won’t tell her because she’s still hanging onto the years when we were young.”

He lifted his pillow, removed the pillow case and pulled a razor blade out.

“When it’s your time, it’s your time,” he said kneeled down on the floor and sharpened the edge of the razor against the concrete.

“What are you doing with that?” I whispered.

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