Chapter 7

SEVEN

LENNOX

A s I sank back into the couch, the smell of freshly baked pizza filled the air, blending with the faint aroma of whiskey as I poured myself another glass. The basketball game on TV cast a flickering glow across the room, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the court providing a backdrop to our conversation.

"Did you see that dunk?" Cole exclaimed, his eyes glued to the screen as he reached for another slice of pizza. "Man, that guy's got some serious hops!"

I chuckled, taking a sip of my drink. "Yeah, but can he hit a three-pointer with two defenders in his face?" I gestured toward the TV. "Now, that's the real question."

As the game unfolded before us, we bickered back and forth, each of us fiercely loyal to our respective teams. With each shot made and missed, the tension in the room mounted, the excitement of the game fueling our competitive spirits.

"Come on, ref! That was clearly a foul!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in frustration as a controversial call flashed across the screen.

Cole shook his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "You're just mad because your team can't handle the heat." He took another swig of his beer.

I rolled my eyes, playfully swatting at him as a grin spread across my face. "Please, my team could beat yours any day of the week."

As the game reached its climax, the tension in the room reached a fever pitch, the outcome hanging in the balance with each passing second. With the fate of our teams on the line, we cheered and groaned in equal measure, fully immersed in the drama unfolding before us.

In moments like this, as Cole and I sat side by side on the couch, sharing a pizza and watching a basketball game, I savored the simplicity of it all. Despite the chaos that often engulfed our lives, these small moments spent with my brother provided a normalcy that I cherished more than anything.

As the final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game, we sat back, our hearts still pounding with the thrill of competition. With a satisfied grin, Cole turned to me, clinking his drink against mine in a silent toast.

"I saw Cohen today. I assume you were responsible for the black eye?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I leaned back into the couch. "It's the least he deserved after going against our vote and taking Salem to see Remi. He put them both at risk."

Cole nodded in agreement. "Can't say he didn't have it coming."

He then fixed his attention back on the TV screen as he flipped through channels, his fingers idly tapping against the remote.

We had just settled on a channel when the door swung open with a bang, startling both of us. Fallon stormed in, her eyes blazing with fury as she confronted us head-on.

"What the hell did you two dickwads do to Salem?" she demanded, her voice sharp and accusatory.

Cole and I looked at each other, taken aback by Fallon's sudden intrusion. Before we could respond, she continued, her words tumbling out in a rush.

"I know she's avoiding me, and I know it's because of something you and those other two fuckers did. I've put up with it this long, and I'm sick of it. I'm not going to sit idly by anymore. Tell me the truth." Fallon insisted, her tone growing more intense with each passing moment.

With a heavy sigh, I motioned for her to sit down, gesturing toward the empty armchair across from us. As she settled into the seat, her eyes bore into us, waiting for an explanation.

I didn't want to tell her. I didn't want to see the change in her eyes when she found out what we had done. But everything was already falling apart. It was only a matter of time before Salem told her, and I'd much rather she hear it from me first.

Taking a deep breath, I began to recount the events that had unfolded in recent months, from Remington's supposed death to Salem's discovery of the truth. Fallon listened in stunned silence, her expression shifting from anger to disbelief as the full extent of our deception became clear.

"So you're telling me Remington's alive?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cole nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on Fallon. "We helped him fake his own death," he admitted, his words heavy with regret. "Salem found out, and she thought we killed him. We told her the truth last night but haven't seen her since."

As Fallon absorbed the shocking revelation that Remington was alive, her initial disbelief quickly gave way to a tsunami of emotions. Anger simmered beneath the surface, bubbling up like molten lava as she struggled to process the magnitude of what she had just learned.

"What the actual fuck!" she shouted, her voice trembling with fury as she shifted her accusing gaze between me and Cole. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

Cole and I exchanged a guilty glance, our expressions mirroring Fallon's growing frustration. We knew we had made a grave error in keeping such a monumental secret from her, but I would do it all again if it meant keeping my sister safe.

"We thought we were protecting you," I began, my voice firm. "We didn't want to drag you into this mess any further."

Fallon's eyes flashed with indignation, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Protecting me?" she scoffed incredulously. "By lying to me? By keeping me in the dark while you idiots concocted this stupid plan? I mean, I get it, but keeping it to yourselves? Fucking stupid."

Cole reached out, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to comfort her or retreat. "We're sorry, Fallon. We should have told you sooner."

But our sister wasn't ready to forgive us so easily. "Damn right you should have!" she exclaimed, her voice full of frustration.

"We thought we were doing what was best," I admitted. "But we were wrong. We should have told you the truth. I'm sorry, Fallon."

Fallon's eyes widened in shock. She could probably count on one hand the number of times I had ever apologized. "And Salem? How is she?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

I glanced at Cole, silently urging him to answer. With a sigh, he leaned back against the couch, running a hand through his hair as he spoke.

"She's not taking it well," he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. "She's hurt and angry, and she's been avoiding everyone, including you, since she saw the security footage"

Fallon's shoulders sagged in defeat, her eyes glistening. "I need to talk to her."

Cole reached out, placing a comforting hand on Fallon's shoulder, "We'll make things right. She's with Cohen now, going to see Remington," he assured her, his voice gentle yet resolute.

Fallon helped herself to a slice of pizza, and her presence injected a new energy into the room. As the night wore on, she grilled us relentlessly, her questions cutting to the core of our plans for Salem. With each question she posed, her determination to hold us accountable for Salem's grievances was palpable. We found ourselves caught in her crosshairs, forced to confront the repercussions of our actions and devise a plan to make amends with our sister's best friend.

I approached the shipping container down at the Brooklyn shipping yards, anticipation coursing through my veins. The familiar scent of saltwater and rust assaulted my senses. The call from my informant had come at just the right moment, offering a glimmer of hope in the darkness of my father's tainted legacy. One of the rats from his sinking ship had been caught, and now it was time for me to exact my own brand of justice.

Entering the container, I commanded my men to wait outside, relishing the prospect of this one-on-one confrontation. With a practiced motion, I removed my suit jacket, draping it over a fold-out chair at the front of the container. I usually let Mateo or one of my men handle the wetwork, but this was personal.

Turning my attention to the cowering figure strapped to a chair before me, a twisted grin played across my lips. This man, once complicit in my father's vile operations, now found himself at the mercy of his former master's son. I circled him like a vulture my footsteps echoing through the cramped space, each one a reminder of the inevitability of his fate.

A surge of anger and disgust welled up within me as I looked at my carrion: Alejandro Cruz, the man responsible for my father's ring of human trafficking, who had also attempted to sell my sister. Despite my father's death, I wasn't about to leave anything to chance when it came to Fallon's safety. With each passing moment, the flames of vengeance burned hotter within me, driving me to ensure that justice would be served.

"So good to see you again, Alejandro," I sneered, my voice dripping with contempt. "You should have known better than to come back into the state."

Alejandro's eyes darted around nervously, his facade of bravado crumbling under the weight of my gaze. I taunted him with every word, each barb a calculated strike designed to unsettle him further.

"It's been a long time coming, hasn't it? This reunion of ours," I taunted. A flicker of fear crossed Alejandro's face as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I didn't waste any time, striding forward to stand directly in front of him. With a swift motion, I pulled out my Colt 46 and shot one of his kneecaps. His scream was music to my ears.

"You have a lot to answer for," I growled, my voice laced with a lethal calmness. "But let's start with my sister."

Alejandro's eyes widened in pain, and his voice quivered in fear as he stammered an apology, pleading for mercy. "I-I'm sorry," he managed to choke out, his gaze darting between me and the ground. "I-I was just following orders. I didn't mean any harm. Please, have mercy."

I remained unmoved, my expression steely as I glared down at him. I thought back to when the tip had come in that my father had orchestrated Fallon's sale on the flesh market. It had hit me like a punch to the gut. Anger, disgust, and deep betrayal had surged through me all at once. I couldn't fathom how someone could stoop so low, especially my own flesh and blood. Sure, I knew my father was a sick bastard. But to auction off his own daughter? I knew I couldn't stand idly by and let him continue unchecked. It had been the wake-up call I needed, the motivation I needed to act, not just for Fallon's sake, but for all those who had suffered at my father's hands. So I had taken the old man out.

"You think I'll grant you mercy after what you've done?" I sneered, waving my Colt at him. "You don't deserve it."

Alejandro's eyes widened even further, his breath hitching as he struggled to find words to defend himself. "B-but I had no choice," he protested, his voice trembling. "If I didn't follow orders, I'd be dead. I had to do what your father said."

It always came back to my father. Even now, after his death, I wondered if I'd ever truly be rid of him or the torment he inflicted upon our family. Growing up under the tyrannical reign of our father was a nightmare my siblings and I were forced to endure, and it still haunted us now. For as long as I could remember, our lives were overshadowed by fear and pain. Father's wrath knew no bounds; he would unleash his fury on us until we were old enough to stand up for ourselves.

It was a vicious cycle of abuse that left scars not just on our bodies but on our souls. At twelve years old, he inducted Cole and me into his twisted world, forcing us to partake in his sick projects and perpetuate his legacy of violence. But I had sworn then, and I swore now, that I would do anything to protect my family from that darkness. Cole found solace in fighting, channeling his rage into a physical confrontation, but I chose a different path. I dedicated myself to dismantling anything that remained of our father's sick legacy, determined to shield those I love from his poison.

I scoffed at Alejandro's feeble excuse, my patience wearing thin. "You had a choice," I countered, my tone unwavering. "You chose to betray your fellow human beings for profit. And now you are going to die anyway."

Despite his trembling form and the fear in his eyes, Alejandro's insubordination flickered to life. "You can't do this to me," he spat, a defiant edge creeping into his voice. "I'll make sure you regret it."

I laughed at his pathetic attempt at resistance. "Sure you will," I retorted sarcastically as I stared him down. Stepping back, I spread my arms wide, inviting his wrath. "Well, come on then. Make me pay."

But instead of a response, all Alejandro could muster was a spit aimed in my direction. I grinned in response, his futile attempt at defiance only serving to further amuse me. Lifting my gun, I shot his other kneecap before stepping closer.

Seizing him by the collar, I forced him to meet my steely gaze, my grip unyielding as I held him in place. "You're going to tell me everything," I growled, my voice low and menacing. "Every contact you have in the skin trade, every twisted scheme you were a part of. And if you even think about lying to me…"

My threat lingered, a silent promise of the consequences that awaited any attempt at deception. He stared at me blankly, and I knew I needed to push harder to extract every last detail from him.

"Give me the names," I demanded, my voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

As Alejandro hesitated, I could feel my patience wearing thin. But before I could unleash my fury upon him, he finally relented, spilling the names of his accomplices and the details of their nefarious activities.

With each revelation, my resolve only grew stronger. I was on a mission to dismantle the network of human trafficking that had plagued our city for far too long. And no one, not even my father's former lackeys, would stand in my way.

As the interrogation came to an end, I made a solemn vow to myself. I would use every resource at my disposal to put an end to this vile industry, to ensure that no more innocent lives would be lost to its horrors. Having gained the answers I needed, I left Alexandro in a bloody mess, signaled my men to dispose of the body, and departed the docks.