Page 82 of Conquering Oz

“She had this look in her eyes, a little hate, which I’ve known all too well in this life, but there was something else with her. Pain. I’ve seen it so many times. I thought I was immune, but hers was different. Raw. Like even she didn’t know what to make of it.” Sal cupped his mouth, staring at the table as if lost in a memory. “But above all that, fear is the worst coming from a woman. Any man who gets off on that isn’t worth anything.”

“Hold the fuck up,” Rogue snapped, straightening in his chair. “So, youdofucking know her?”

There was little that caught Oz off guard, but he hadn’t seen this admission coming. They’d looked into Elodie when Rogue and Trey expressed concerns. He’d put Nash on it a second time knowing he’d find anything and everything. Nash found nothing. There was no link between Sal, the Underground, and Elodie.

Oz looked over at Nash, who stood silently near the wall. He straightened and moved closer.

“I looked into everything, Sal. I didn’t find any connection,” Nash said, veering his gaze to Oz.

“You wouldn’t. It was before your time, Nash.” Sal looked at Rogue and Trey. “Yours too.” Sal swirled the liquid in his glass, turning to Oz. “But not before yours.”

Oz felt an unfamiliar rush through his body as his muscles tightened.

Oz, Rogue, and Trey began working for Sal at the same time. But the assignments were different. Trey and Roguewere younger, and given smaller tasks. Pickups, dropoffs, and occasionally, running interference. Sal used them to his advantage. Not many suspected a ten-year-old and thirteen-year-old would delve so deep into lawlessness. Trey and Rogue were the perfect cover for some lucrative deals.

Oz had been a different story. At eighteen, there hadn’t been any life jacket or training wheels. He was thrust into the Underground feet first. It had been his only chance for survival, and he’d knew it, even back then. Sal had offered him an opportunity for something better and a chance to truly make something of himself. It was unconventional, illegal, and not a life he would’ve chosen. But the life chose him, and he’d decided to get everything he could from it.

“At my age, it’s hard to remember everything. Done a lot of in my life. Some good, some bad. And some things I avoid thinking about. I’d almost forgotten about Elodie.” Sal pressed his lips together, peering across the room, almost in a daze. “Almost.”

Fuck.Oz cupped his mouth, watching Sal.

“How do you know her?” Trey asked.

“Long time ago. You all had just started with me full time, not even a year in. Had the boys” —he lifted his chin to Rogue and Trey— “doing some cash transfers. Small shit, testing them out.” Sal laughed without an ounce of humor. “A better man would’ve made better choices for you boys.”

“Yeah, well, no one else fucking stepped up for us, Sal. Just you,” Rogue snapped.

It was true. Sal owed them nothing and took a risk taking them in. Maybe not up to society’s standards, but he had been the only one willing to take a chance on three misfits.

“Could’ve done better, son.”

“Stop with this fucking bullshit.” Rogue said.

Oz needed them all to get back on track.

“Elodie,” Oz said, gaining the attention of every man in the room.

Sal lifted his glass, and took a small sip.

“Not one gentleman in the Underground. Never has been. But we had a code. There were certain things we never dipped into, and certain people we shielded from all our endeavors.” Sal shrugged. “We’d never be considered good guys, but we had our boundaries. Well, most of us did.” Sal’s lips twisted in disgust. “Women and children were off limits.”

It was a cardinal rule Oz abided by. There were exceptions for those who chose life in the Underground. They were held to the same standards as all the men. Anyone who’d been part of the organization knew they had to put in the time, the blood, sweat, and tears. They had to take the risks, do the jobs. The choice wasn’t theirs. This was the life they’d chosen or been indoctrinated into, and they had to live it.

“Eddie Burns. Small time bookie, dabbled in a few drug transfers, but never amounted to much. Had some connections but wasn’t liked. A hustler not willing to put in the time to work his way up. Always looking for the next big bullshit scheme. That’s not how I built the Underground. He worked under Jimmy for a while.” Sal snorted. “My brother never vetted the way I did. Every once in a while, he’d let the garbage in.”

Oz clasped his hands, giving no reaction. He shared the same sentiment about Sal’s brother but had never vocalized it. He didn’t have to. Sal didn’t need anyone reminding him of his ultimate betrayal by his own blood brother.

“You gotta know the people you got working under you. Always telling you boys that, right?” Sal asked, looking at Oz.

“Yes,” Oz said with a sharp nod. He needed to shift the conversation back to the subject at hand. “Elodie.”

Sal slowly nodded, tearing his gaze away from Oz. His throat bobbed, and his lips pursed.

“Jimmy had his crew, Artie being one of them. Jimmy wantedhis ownOz.” Sal scoffed and shook his head. “Anyway, one night we got word from Artie that his sister had been raped. She said she didn’t know the guy who did it, but he looked familiar. That was all she could give him. The day before she was supposed to go to the police station to fill out the report, she was dropping off her mother at a friend’s house and saw the guy. Told her brother, and the next night me, Jimmy, Artie, and his sister took a ride past the man’s house. This motherfucker was watering his lawn without a goddamn care in the world. Meanwhile, Artie’s sister starts shaking and crying and said he was the guy.” Sal settled in his seat. “Got the accusation, so we head back to get the proof. Jimmy never thought things through, shoot first ask questions later. So I personally looked into it. Everyone I talked to put Eddie in the same area as Artie’s sister that night. A local bar downtown. Had enough guys saying Eddie had been bragging about getting laid. It was him. We all knew it.”

“And she was sure it was this Eddie guy?” Trey asked.

Sal nodded. “Yeah. You don’t have that kind of reaction without having lived through the trauma. So, the next night, we go back. It was getting dark, not many people on the street. It was after eight on a Wednesday, most people were in for the night. And again, that motherfucker is outside on his front porch, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer watching his wife unload groceries from her trunk. He never even lifted a finger to help her. Once she was inside, we made the decision to take him out there. We had a perfect shot. But couldn’t take it.”

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