Page 78 of Street of Dreams
Mac turned to Jake, confused, looking for an explanation, but Jake shook his head in reply as if to say, not now.
Once in the ambulance, Jake called the twins to let them know what happened to Bruce. “Don’t tell Ben,” he said into the phone. “Keep him away from the TV and don’t put on the radio. I want him to hear it from me. I should be home in a few hours.” When Jake finished the call, he took Mac’s hand and his face filled with emotion. “Please don’t let go of my hand. After what just happened, I don’t ever want to be more than a foot away from you again.”
It took less than an hour to get Jake stitched up, but he needed to receive antibiotics by intravenous drip, so he was admitted to a private hospital room. While the nurse administered the medication, Mac flipped through the TV channels and settled on a news station to pass the time. When the nurse left, he shut the door, sat on the edge of the bed, and snuggled into the crook of Jake’s neck so they could finally talk. “I was so scared tonight. More than anything, I was afraid we would both be killed before I had the chance to tell you I loved you. I’m so sorry I acted like I didn’t care when we were in Nevada. I was just hurt, and I lashed out. I acted like an idiot. When I realized how stupid I was, I got on a plane right away. I had to tell you that I loved you in person. I never stopped, Jake. I always loved you. I loved you so much that I had physical pain whenever I thought about you. So, I pushed you out of my head, but you never left my heart.”
“I know,” Jake replied, with his self-confident smile. “We got something here. You and Me. You don’t just turn that off. Now, we’re free to pick up where we left off. We can have a life together.”
A special report flashed across the TV and both Mac and Jake stopped talking to listen to the journalist.
“Members of the notorious outlaw motorcycle club, the Rabid Devils, and a local street thug were gunned down in a firearms and drug transaction gone bad,” the journalist reported. It was the same journalist that Mac saw interviewing the mob boss, only she was reporting from the street in front of the warehouse, which was now surrounded by yellow caution tape. “It all went down at this abandoned warehouse in Chicago’s South Side. Was it a sting operation, months in the making, that resulted in the seizure of millions of dollars’ worth of firearms and narcotics? No. It wasn’t. We have a local hero to thank for getting this dangerous contraband off the street. Salvatore Finestra. That’s right. Although Mr. Finestra has been linked to organized crime in the past, he’s never had a conviction, and those allegations remain hearsay. Tonight, we owe this man a debt of gratitude for tipping off the police to this major drug and gun bust.”
The camera flashed to the scene of the journalist interviewing Salvatore Finestra inside the warehouse. “How did you know about the drug and firearms transaction taking place tonight?” she asked.
Salvatore Finestra removed the cigar from his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. “I cannot disclose my sources.”
“These are extremely dangerous individuals. Most people would have turned a blind eye. What motivated you to get involved?”
“I’ve never been afraid to do the right thing. I’m tired of the drugs and shootings on the streets of Chicago. So, I stepped in. Enough is enough. I’m going to clean up South Side and restore order.”
Mac turned to Jake with disbelief. “He’s being touted as a hero? The cops just let him go?”
Jake slowly blinked and looked at Mac. “He has connections to very powerful people. On both sides of the law.”
Mac paused as he digested everything that happened at the warehouse and the outcome. “What exactly was supposed to happen tonight? And don’t you dare say you can’t tell me.”
Jake exhaled. “I approached Salvatore Finestra about taking over South Side. I told him I had a lucrative business running numbers, which is basically illegal gambling. I told him what I had going on with Street of Dreams and suggested he could take over on a grand scale, offering protection to local businesses. He went for it. He fronted the money for the liquor store and set up shop in the back room as a safe place for the Family to conduct business in South Side.” Jake paused for a beat. “And afterhours gambling. I get a big cut under the table, and the store is a way for me to show legitimate income.”
Mac was putting all the bits and pieces together, and it was starting to make sense. “You mean . . . money laundering?”
Jake nodded. “Exactly. If I’m going to get custody of Ben, I need to show money on the books and that I’m a contribution to society. This is the way I make a living, Mac. It’s all I know.”
Mac would never judge Jake and his choices. He loved this man too much, and, short of murder, he’d stick by Jake’s side through almost anything. But he needed to know exactly how deep Jake’s illegal dealings went. He wanted to know everything. “What about the guns and drugs? Tell me the truth, Jake.”
“I’m getting there. I told Mr. Finestra about Bruce’s gun business, and that I had no part of it. And that I didn’t want any part of it. As far as the drugs go, I honestly didn’t know anything about it. If my old man was involved in the drug trade, he never let me in on it. If the Finestra’s knew about it, they kept me in the dark. My only involvement with the Finestra Family is gambling and protection. Same with my old man.” Jake put his hand over his heart. “I swear to God, Mac. That’s as far as I go.”
Mac’s head was still reeling with the complexity of the situation, but he still had a million questions and probably would be thinking about more as the days went by. “What about the bikers? I still don’t understand what was supposed to go down tonight.”
“The Finestra’s were supposed to let my old man know that I was a valuable friend to the Family. One of their own. That I was under their protection. If anything happened to me, or people I cared about, he’d have to answer to them. In exchange, I gave them a presence in South Side and the opportunity to take over.”
There was more to this story, and Mac wasn’t settling for less than full disclosure, whatever it was.
“All right,” Jake said with a sigh when he saw the look on Mac’s face. “They were going to run Bruce out of town. For good. If they had to strong-arm him, I was fine with it. They weren’t supposed to kill him. Although I wished the man was dead for most of my life, I never would have agreed to that. I couldn’t live with that on my conscience, and I specifically told that to Mr. Finestra.”
“And the bikers?”
“Like I said, the Finestra’s wanted South Side. All of it. That meant taking over my old man’s business dealings.”
“But they set up that motorcycle gang. Aren’t the bikers going to retaliate?”
“I don’t think that’s what happened at all. I think the Finestra’s had every intention of making a deal with them. But they walked in on what looked like the Finestra’s ripping off my old man. Someone had a quick finger on the trigger, and it set off a shootout. The cops came with SWAT because of the amount of gunfire. Salvatore Finestra didn’t call them. He stood to make a lot of money from that gun deal. And he needed to form a relationship with the bikers.” Jake touched the center of his chest. “I’m not involved in any of that. I made it very clear that I wanted nothing to do with guns. And, like I said before, I had no knowledge about the drugs.”
While Mac paused to absorb everything, the door to the hospital room opened and Salvatore Finestra walked in as if he were the guest of honor at a celebration. His suit was impeccable, and his full head of gray hair was slicked back to perfection. No one would have ever guessed that, a couple of hours earlier, he had been involved in multiple rounds of gunfire and murder.
Two of Finestra’s men were stationed outside Jake’s hospital room, blocking the doorway. One of them reached in and closed the door, leaving Mac and Jake alone with the mob boss. Mac immediately stiffened and jumped to his feet, unsure of what to expect. He’d dealt with plenty of thugs in his life and fought off those attempting to rob him on Street of Dreams, but he’d never had any kind of dealings with the mafia.
“Mr. Finestra,” Jake began, sitting up straighter in the bed. “I apologize for everything. Again, it was all my fault.” His eyes darted nervously to Mac for a quick second, then back to the head of the Finestra Family. “Maybe we should talk in private.”
Salvatore Finestra ignored Jake and turned to Mac with those cold, black eyes. “We haven’t been introduced.”
