The Untouchables(57)

“Babe, President Monroe is not the first President to be assassinated,” she supposed, stepping behind me in order to rub my shoulders. “I’m sure the feds already have a suspect. Mel and Liam—”

She was cut off the moment the phone rang and I knew who it was.

“Speak of the devil,” she said.

I picked up the phone. “Hell—”

“Neal, could you please explain what you’re doing?” Mel’s voice rang out softly through the phone. So soft in fact I wasn’t sure if I should be worried or rearranging my will again.

“Boss, Chicago is on lock down. There’s a massive manhunt going on, and every hour more and more police officers are coming in all throughout the country.” I waited for her to speak, but she said nothing.

“It isn’t wise to move product right now. The shipment through the dock has been taken care of already, but there is no way we can get them out to the dealers right now…”

“What about Senator Colemen?” she asked. Again, still calm; still freaking me out.

Glancing to Olivia who only shrugged, I told her the truth, “As far as I know, Mina’s working on another statement, but he’s fine.”

“He’s fine?” she repeated before taking a deep breath.

Oh shit.

“He’s shouldn’t be fucking fine!” she snapped. “He is nowhere close to fine! Why? Because as far as I know, people are sympathetic, brainless, parasites who jump from one host to another!”

“Um, what?” What in the hell was she talking about?

“You idiot. Turn on the news!”

Turning on the computer, Olivia went to a live stream of the First Lady.

She looked tired but energized; odd seeing as how her husband was just murdered in front of the whole nation, if not world.

“My fellow Americans, as hard as it is to stand here in front of you, I have no other choice. My husband was a strong man, who would never bend to the will of terrorists and criminals. I believe it is truly because of him that I have found the will to say to the man who pulled that trigger: you will not win. You will not silence the greatest democracy on the planet with a bullet. For in killing my husband, you have awakened the beast in me. I will run for President. I will take my husband’s torch to the finish line, and you will not silence America!”

“Oh, Fuck,” Olivia and I said together.

“My thoughts exactly,” Mel stated. “There you have it. The speech heard around the world! Do you want to know who she looks like? Jackie O. Do you want know which first lady all of American loves so dearly? Jackie fucking O. So how fine are you fucking feeling right now, Neal? Because on the scale of pissed to motherfucking enraged, I’m ready to fucking explode!”

Pulling the phone from my ear, I tried my best not to flinch. “Mel, what do you want me to do?”

“Get off your fat ass and work or so help me—I don’t care what you do. I would suggest during Colemen’s pretty speech to put two bullets in him and even the fucking playing field again—”

Before I could stop her Olivia grabbed the phone from me.

“Have you lost your fucking mind? That’s my father!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” I heard Melody say. “Now get the fuck off the phone, you’re wasting my bloody minutes.”

“Boss,” I said, grabbing the phone before Olivia smashed it against the wall. “I’m…”

“Did Liam and I not tell you how important it was for us to secure the presidency, Neal? It could be Mrs. Colemen as President or you could aim for Colemen’s legs. All I know is, if you have a better idea, start working on it, because if I have to jump my pregnant ass across the pond to do it myself, I sure as fucking hell will. As for the drugs, make them move. Sell them at half the damn price if you have to. But the longer we sit on it, the weaker we look and the more money we lose. Junkies don’t care that the President is dead, they just want their fix and what the customer wants, they get!” And with that she was gone.

“She’s a monster!” Olivia screamed as I hung up, grabbing my tie and walking towards the door.

“Neal! What are you going to do?”

I didn’t answer her because in all honesty I wasn’t even sure. So much for having power.





EIGHTEEN

“Sometimes you have to pick the gun up to put the gun down.”

—Malcolm X





JINX

I don’t like people. I don’t like being around them, and I don’t like walking amongst them. My place has always been in the sky. I was born in the sky, somewhere over Vermont of all places. My mother gave birth to me on a plane, and since then, that’s the place I’ve tried to stay. Being a first generation Italian to a nearly blind mother and a deadbeat alcoholic father, there wasn’t much room for me to spread my wings as child. My days were spent trying to stop my father from killing my mother, and my mother from killing herself.