Caged

Chapter 21

So Statesville had a new warden in town. Shondra Dixon. She brought the National Guard in her first week to clean up. A ton of guards had been fired, new ones hired. New rules, new restrictions, less freedom in any and all associations and activities. All visitors had been prohibited until new guidelines were established. No recreation in groups, "not until this mess is cleaned up." Everyone had been on lock-down or in solitary. Shake-downs were happening every day. Todd disagreed with one of the guards and got thrown into solitary.

That's when he "met" the warden.

He had a vague recollection of attacking her. He'd been kicking dope a little because the drug business had been virtually shut down by a new influx of clean guards, and he'd been pissed off about R.J. and Tea, the risks Jedediah had been taking for MK business, the overall fucked-up world he was living in. Above all, his parole got denied again and he was now officially facing a fifth year in Statesville.

So in that screwed-up state, this woman, this... woman... she comes in talking about programs and whatever, and he was raw. Bare. Literally, figuratively, and... she reminded him of Tea in a way...

He'd lost his fuckin' mind.

Got the crap beaten out of him for what he did. Beat the crap out that cell. Couldn't calm down. Didn't calm down until the door opened and the guard said, "If you shut up, you can get out." Didn't know why the sudden release, but it worked for him.

It was night now, and he was back in his cell. He'd dug out his little dope reserve that the shake-downs hadn't revealed. Did the whole thing knowing he'd be dry and sick and unhappy the next day. But he needed it. He'd been in so much pain, his skin, muscles, and bones, and... and... and... his insides had been even more broken. He'd figured he wouldn't be going home, but the reality of that parole denial hit him hard.

The dark and the heroin comforted him, soothed his hurts. Not just that. Smithy came down to Todd's cot, and... just... moved into the space. The kid hesitated at first, sitting just on the edge, but Todd found himself needing what the kid offered, not fighting it. Smithy moved like a cat to lay on top of his protector and just held him, kissed him, kissed his mouth, his throat, his neck...and it moved from there. Todd so needed the heat and the stupid, meaningless whispers of that kid. He needed the words, he needed the noise, he needed the feel of skin on skin.

...it's okay, it's gonna be okay, you don't hurt me, yes, yes, you're beautiful, I know you're good, I know... God yes, yes, you're real, you're alive, Jesus just like that, you save me...

He felt his cot move with the departure of Smithy Jackson, waking him from his doped-up, sexed-up sleep. The shifting away of Smithy left Todd feeling the cold air. The kid stood in the shadows, leaning back against the cell bars. He'd no clothes on. Todd glanced at him in the moon's white light coming through the windows, shook his head, not liking his escape from hell getting interrupted.

Knocked his head back, following the high. Reached up and touched the metal bars that held the upper cot. Reached down with the other hand and lazily scratched his belly, his balls. Grabbed the sheet to cover himself, to get warm again. Tried to go back to sleep. But couldn't 'cause that kid was staring at him.

"What," he grumbled.

Smithy sighed, "You're not kicking me. You're not hating me to... to touch you."

"Don't tempt me."

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong with YOU. Go back to sleep. Unless you want me to hurt you."

"No."

"Then shut up... you're ruining things."

He drifted in dreams, flying with his family. There, in a real dark, in a dark that was safe and pure, he could feel Tea next to him, his Lucia, too, in their bed. He woke up and cried into his pillow when he realized it was just a dream. Sobbed like a baby. He'd so wanted to go home. He'd so hoped the parole would be granted. It broke his heart even though he'd known it was an impossible hope.

The kid was too confident though. He climbed down and whispered, "I'm sorry... it's okay."

Big. Fucking. Mistake.

The high had faded to a dull disconnect. Todd looked up at Smithy with that hate he had inside of him and the kid shot back, knowing what was coming and come it did. Todd flew out of that cot and pushed Smithy so hard against the bars that the kid saw stars. Todd sunk down and grabbed the kid by the throat, lifted him and bashed him against the concrete, the kid gasping with the sudden loss of air. He then reached back to punch the shit out of Smithy, for breaking into his pain, but stopped himself when he saw those wounded, tearful eyes. He was such a small person, like Brandy, like Diego, and Todd knew in an instant that two, three hits at full blast... well, he'd kill this child.

Jesus CHRIST. He was just a kid. What the FUCK?

Todd dropped him and stood up, looking down at Smithy, breathing hard still. "I'm sorry," he grunted. "Please don't... please don't try to help me anymore. I can't handle it." The most true thing he'd said in a while.

When morning came, so did a guard. A little earlier than regular wake-up. "Get dressed. You have a meeting with the warden."

"I don't get to shower? Clean up?"

"No."

Todd shrugged on clothes, taking a last look at Smithy who was awake now, big eyes staring back. Looked away from that kid.

They walked and soon, Todd found himself standing in an ornate office, staring down the same warden he'd jumped the day before. She sat behind a massive desk not unlike his in the Sun's offices. The guard left. Todd sniffed, feeling himself coming awake. Feeling his usual defenses snaking upwards from the soles of his feet up to the top of his head. Feeling that hate.

Yeah, he was awake now.

"Todd Manning, you've quite a record here in Statesville. Heard you got denied parole this week. Meaning you're set for release one year from today. This is your fifth year."

He said nothing, biting down hard.

"So this record of yours..." She flipped through pages of that heavy file in front of her. Looked up at him. "You're in trouble, sir. Big... trouble."

He snorted, laughed a little. "I know, right?" The laugh disappeared sharply.

She stood up, all six foot of her. She was a beautiful Black woman, hair kept short, makeup light, skin like silk. He hadn't noticed any of this back in solitary. Her clothes did remind him of the way Tea dressed for court, for a client meeting. Power clothes. Low thoughts entered his head. Wondered what sort of underwear she had on. Blinked away the images. He raised his brows, assessing her. Found himself grinning, saying, "What's a pretty girl like you doin' in a place like this."

But the momentary levity was just that. Momentary. The smile faded and all that was left were cold, dead... eyes. God he hated this place. He hated everything this bitch stood for. He licked his lips and bit down again on his tongue. Tasted blood.

"You own a very successful newspaper," she said, leaning on her desk with her arms crossed. Todd looked down her long legs, her skirt just above knees. She wore high heels. He thought of taking one of them shoes and bashing her across the face with it. Give HER a scar on her cheek.

"You have money," she said, "you're supposed to leave here to return to a loving family. Daughters, a son, a successful and gorgeous wife."

"So?"

"So..." Her voice dropped and got real fucking cold. "What's a man like you doing here? Raping vulnerable kids, making them deal drugs and contraband for you? What the hell is wrong with you? No wonder you got denied parole." She stood up, nose to nose with him, feeling him, hearing him breathing like a bull about to charge. "You're nothing but low-lying trash."

He reacted just as she knew he would. In seconds, he had her in a choke hold, her throat being squeezed by his arm, one of her arms restricted up by her head, her back up against his chest. The two breathed hard and she knew he'd kill her. She could feel the hate running through him. He had an erection now, but she knew... it wasn't to have sex with her. Nothing but pure adrenaline, a hot uncontrollable rush of blood filled with hatred and fear. He groaned with blinding restraint.

She wasn't a pretty girl, she was an enemy who was going to hurt him. My god, she thought, he was so scared. This place had destroyed him.

"You don't know anything about me, bitch." He rasped into her ear, "But let me tell you, I'm happy to show you just how low-lying I am."

"In one minute," she huffed, "you will be beaten, tazed, and sentenced to solitary for a whole lot longer than a year, if you even survive the next hour. Let go... of me."

After a moment or so, he threw her away from him, her body landing hard against the desk. She grunted at the shock of it. Turning around, she righted herself. Seconds later the door opened, the guard looked in, Dixon nodded, and they were alone again. When she looked at Todd again, she saw he was in a barely-contained state of rage, he could barely talk, one wrong move and he'd follow through with every dark thought that was running through his head, consequences be damned. Every muscle was on the defense. A wild... animal.

Dixon breathed a calming breath and slowly returned to her desk. She sat and poured herself a drink of water. Lifted the glass and watched him, her eyes never leaving Todd. She did not shake, or flinch, or tremble. The water stayed level. She was cool as ice and she wanted him to know it. She drank it down.

"You cannot live in society this way, Mr. Manning. Your demeanor, your defenses, your fear, create a deadly combination. You're not fit for the outside. You won't last one day. You've been tagged by a newly formed exiting committee as... highly dangerous. You're very likely to kill someone, to commit very serious crimes outside these walls as soon as you step outside. I disagreed based on your history, your... position in society. You proved me wrong just now."

"Are we... done?" He slammed shut his mouth, his jaw tight.

"No. I want to give you something. A chance, an opportunity. You're now part of a re-introduction program for people like you. People who SHOULD do well, but have been so corrupted by prison that they will NOT do well. Every day for the next year you will spend time in group therapy, one-on-one therapy, classes prepping your for life outside, and... with me. Your library job has been... expanded. Your recreation time has been reduced. You'll still be a part of general population."

"What if I refuse?"

"You'll get solitary. For the rest of your time here."

His face quirked. "You can't do that. That's like, unconstitutional."

"I... can do anything I want. I'm the warden."

He stood quietly, trembling with that hate he carried.

"Today, I want to give you another something. Privacy. A shower. I want you to remember what it was like when you were free. When you could take a long hot shower, and nobody would be watching you unless you wanted them to. There, in that beautiful shower, you can think about the program. Give me a yes, or a no."

She looked at his file again, emphasizing its thickness by running her fingers along its pages.

"A no," she said, "will get you solitary, but you'll be safe there. You won't hurt anyone, and no one will hurt you. You won't be helped much with transitioning, though, and chances are you will be back here after you're released, for a lot longer." She paused, for dramatic effect. "A yes, though, will give you a chance at life outside. A life with your beautiful family and a very low possibility of returning HERE."

She got up again and walked to a door across the office, on the other side. She opened it. He craned his neck to see inside. It was a beautiful, marble bathroom. A big tub, a Roman-baths-like shower, meaning it was just the floor and walls. There were fresh clothes on the counter. A real toothbrush, toothpaste. Soap. Shampoo. He looked back at her. Around her, behind her, in the far back reach of the office, he suddenly noticed the doors. French doors leading to a lush garden. The sun poured in through a green house's glass. He'd never been in the warden's office and didn't realize how... beautiful it might be. That there could be beauty in this hell hole.

"You're crazy," he said. "You think a... shower... is going to motivate me to change my evil ways?"

"No, I think a remembrance of privacy will motivate you to want to be who you once were. You had a home, a family, an amazing career. YOU, Todd Manning, were a productive member of our society, drug addiction or not. I think the memory of your life before... will want you to get back to yourself, and away from the animal you are now. The trash inside of yourself that you have so fully embraced."

He sniffed, and pain inched its way out from the depths of his soul. Crawled upwards. He swallowed it. "You're fuckin' crazy."

"Maybe. Prove my idea wrong. Prove me crazy."

Dixon moved back to her desk, opened a file, turned to a computer screen. She seemed to disappear into work. A guard stepped inside and just stood at the door. She looked up, Todd seeming to be unsure as to what to do.

"Go ahead," she said. "Step inside. Nobody will hurt you, or bother you, for as long as you want. There's nothing in there that you can use to injure yourself or anyone else barring incredible creativity. There are no cameras. Nobody can see behind that door. It's complete privacy. Something you haven't had in the past four years."

The guard didn't move. Just stood. Todd cleared his throat and decided... the idea of a long shower wasn't so bad. What's a little water behind a closed door? So he walked inside the bathroom and closed the door. No lock, but the door was good enough. A toilet sat in the corner, and he realized he could go without anyone watching him. Hadn't thought about that in a long time. Strange relief. He looked for hidden cameras, windows, peepholes, finding nothing. It was a big room.

He undressed. Turned to look at his reflection in a large mirror over the sink. Jesus, he was a hellish sight. She was right, he was an animal. Trash. He hadn't shaved in weeks, his hair was a fuckin' nightmare. His skin looked... rough, reddened... from the heroin no doubt. He rubbed his face. His body... while muscular, cut, certainly, bore bruises everywhere, a bite on his chest from his stupid-ass desperate... god-so-fucking-desperate tryst with...

...not to mention more scars than before. This is what Tea would see? His children? Watched tears run down his face at that sight. Jesus. Shook it off.

He turned and flipped the water on. Grabbed the toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, shampoo and soap. Stepped into the heat. He washed fast but then slowed in his efforts. He could stay here a while. He put his hands up against the marble tiles and under that showering water, found himself crying like a fuckin' baby again. Goddamn parole board. Goddamn Statesville. Goddamn MK.

Goddamn.

When he was done, he stepped outside the bathroom. He shrugged at her when she turned to look at him.

"Much improved," she said.

Shrugged again.

"Do you agree to be part of the program?"

"To avoid solitary, yeah. Don't have much of a choice do I?"

"Sure you do. You always have CHOICE. Every day you make choices that are nothing but your own to make."

"Bullshit."

"We'll talk more about that. So it's a yes?"

He shrugged, "Whatever, sure."

"Okay, you start tomorrow. Welcome to your fifth year. Welcome to a chance at LIFE."

La vida total, he thought. A complete, full life. Bullshit.

He walked away, slipping into a regular day of information gathering, MK dealings, and very limited contraband trading. Damn that bitch warden, Todd thought. All day, he could think of nothing but that goddamn shower, the feel of privacy, the feel of the heat for more than five minutes.

How that fucking shower looked just like the one at the Penthouse.

Sonofabitch.

Armageddon is supposed to happen only once. But for Todd, it seemed to have happened a million times. Over and over, something blew him up inside, leaving nothing but a dead silence and a little more killing of his soul.

The time his mother found him in bed, getting abused by Peter. The night his father raped him at age 14 in front of the only person who loved him. When Marty Saybrooke trapped him into admitting he'd raped her. Learning that Blair had lied to him about their baby. The time he came home after being shot in Ireland and finding Blair in the arms of another man. The moment he realized he was in love with Tea Delgado. Finding a very dead Georgie Phillips, when his past came rushing forward and drowned him in sickness. Watching Tea walk away from him. The crazy that rushed in and made him try to kill himself. Phillip Manning and... well, he didn't even like to think about what happened in that apartment. Seeing Diego Loriz for the first time. The killing of Horenda. A hundred other little deaths.

And of course... the first time he mainlined heroin. Good times. Bad times...

And now there was THIS. Jedediah admitting in that ragged voice of his that little Rose was his own daughter. It took some time for that to make sense to Todd. For the words to clarify. For the smoke to clear. Even a little. Still in a stunned silence, he'd watched Jed walk away, Tea chasing after him. Heard doors slam shut, open up, footsteps on stairs, the front door opening, closing, opening again, closing once more, the quiet coming. Knew there was talking, a little shouting, but mainly... he listened to a disappearing of people he loved.

And even in that awful quiet, he still couldn't stitch this bitch together. Jed never mentioned he had any connection with Leticia. Todd never saw them even share a glance... at least he didn't think they did. Leticia sure as hell never mentioned that she was... that she... at the same time...

Fucking sonofabitch. There was a... a... sickness associated with this, and he tried to shake it off but couldn't, an echo... a shadow... There was a gang-rape feel to this thing that made him more than a little sick. He knew that wasn't rational, somewhere inside of him he knew that, he certainly didn't think about Tea and R.J. that way, but with Jedediah, his son... the ringing of that bell in his head continued. Phillip and himself, Peter and Phillip... himself and his fraternity brothers.

Did Rolon know? It had been common knowledge that Jedediah was Todd's son, but if this child was three or so, that would mean Jed most likely knew Leticia before Todd and Leticia ever began their... connection. Right? RIGHT? He didn't know shit. He laughed sadly. Wait. He never saw Leticia pregnant. If that kid was two, then that baby wasn't even Leticia's?

What a fuckin' mess. He knew nothing anymore. Nothing made sense.

Grabbed the vodka. Plopped himself on the bed. Sat there forever in the wreckage. Drank a whole lot of the Grey Goose because he didn't have what he really wanted. He stared at the light in the corner of the room, a silvery colorful lamp that Jed must have picked up because God knew that wasn't Todd's taste in decor. New Orleans? What the hell...

Did Jed not understand, really, that he would never have hurt Leticia's girl? Course not. How could Jed even think it was anywhere near the realm of possibility? Tea? Did they really think he'd... do that? Make something like that happen? Really? Turn that little girl over to a child rapist? It was absurd. It was such, such the empty threat. He drank a little more, feeling the drunk. Stupid.

His fault though. He'd told them from the beginning... that he was a monster. He said it over and over. But, thing was... he didn't really want his family to believe it, HE didn't want to believe it. He'd hoped all along that Tea would counter every bit of evidence as to his hideousness and say, "No... no... that's not you. See? You're good and decent and worthy of being alive."

But all roads led to him being... a monster.

Sniffing, he got to his feet. He was solid under the table now. Held the wall to keep himself from toppling over. Got his cell out and punched numbers. Called a taxi. Called some more numbers until he tracked Leticia down.

"Gotcha," he mumbled, pulling his coat on. Walked out the door with that bottle in his hand.

Met the taxi downstairs. Finished the Goose. Threw the empty out the window to the horror of the driver. "It's glass... good for the environment," he muttered.

Drove to the Sun. Made his way through tunnels and what-not until he was deep in Llanview and walking the cold streets, way out of the surveillance range, hunched into his long black wool coat. Walked through alleys until it was late, one o'clock in the a.m. when most bars were beginning to shut down.

In that mind-fucked state, he headed to an MK underground club where Leticia was working tonight. The same one where Tea and Jed had followed him. He wanted words from Leticia, the real fuckin' story on Rose. He also wanted his people to see he wasn't dead, especially Pedro Moreno. Wanted a look at Carro again maybe. Had lots of drunk-ass ideas floating in his head, thinking maybe he'd bring Jedediah the dead cold body of that sicko, Carro. Show Jed that he didn't mean what he'd said. Maybe he'd take all the crap he'd been hoarding on that Carro bastard and share that shit with someone. He'd been such a lone ranger on this... but maybe it was time to stop.

Thing was... the threat had been empty! EMPTY. Jed, it was goddamn EMPTY. Kept saying to the chilled night sky...

"I'd never hurt that girl, Jed! Even if she didn't belong to you. Even if she was the daughter of fucking Satan himself, even if SHE was Satan."

Turned into the alley where the aging building stood, where the door to the underground club was waiting to be knocked upon, waiting to be opened. He walked through trash and darkness and shadow-making streetlamps. Looked up the concrete wall at the frosted windows that hid all sorts of shit. Some had lights behind the glass. Shadows moved. A set of hands slammed on the glass and then disappeared. Saw the unmarked door at the bottom level. Took a step closer...

"Manning, where the hell are you going?"

Bo fucking Buchanan.

After a few moments of stillness, Todd turned on his feet, tired, tired at the sound of the old cop's voice. He knew he was slurring his words. Nothin' to do about THAT. "Should ask you the same goddamn thing. Ain't you s'posed to be with your wife."

"Shouldn't you be?"

Todd chuckled, rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand. Pointing his finger at Bo, he hissed, "Here's the thing... you made sure I wouldn't be. Cracked open shit that shouldn't have been cracked open." The laugh had long disappeared and in its place was nothing but pissed-off-ness. He swayed a little. His gaze shifted up and down, from the cop in front of him to the ground, back up again. He couldn't be seen with the Commissioner. Had to get rid of Bo. Cursed him... "Get the fuck outta here. You ruined everything!" He swayed a little more, trying not to. "You ruined everything..." Dropped his head, wandered to the wall near the door, holding onto that wall.

"I oughta take you in right now. Public drunkenness. Evading surveillance."

"Go ahead... take me in. Put me in jail. I don't give a shit right now."

Bo studied Todd. Wondering where the hell that door led to. Noticed a little peep-hole. Someone was watching Todd. There was something on Todd's face that... well... that sounded like cover-up. Like he was play-acting. Bo sort of laughed to himself. Todd didn't lie well when he was drunk. Bo nodded, "You got it, buddy. Let's go... let's have a chat."

Bo took some steps to grab Todd's arm, but Todd bristled, "I can goddamn walk on my own."

In response, Bo put his hands up, "As long as you do." Todd kicked himself away from the wall, walking, definitely not in a straight line. They walked back down the alley, walked around the corner in quiet until Todd asked, "What do you want, Bo. You're not really arresting me."

"Nope, I just want to talk. I got no wire, I got nothing. Off the record, tell me about Horenda."

"Already had that talk."

"I want the truth this time."

Bo could see Todd shut down, shaking his head, watching the ground as it passed beneath his feet. Pausing his slow walk on the sidewalk, Bo then said, "Manning, you and I both want the same thing. We don't want kids to die."

Todd slowed down. Longish hair still, hanging limp in the cool air. Turned slightly to look at Bo.

"You did things in Statesville to protect your workers who were just kids in a very bad place. You couldn't stand idly by while they got abused. I think... you were even willing to don the costume of the worst kind of sex offender, willing to become a person you hate, for those kids. So they wouldn't DIE. And just like back then, I don't think you can stand by now and watch innocent kids die on our own streets. Right across from your own building."

Todd swayed a little in the cold, his hands deep in the pockets of his coat, his head down still. His mind was working, imagining how this negotiation was going to go, what would happen if he laid it all out for Bo, every sordid detail of the Horenda plot and murder. All he could see at the end of every possibility was prison, his family scattered to the wind. Maybe even dead. Not to mention ...his Statesville kids.

"I can give you immunity maybe," Bo said quietly. "Give you anything you want. Maybe there are names you and I can exchange. Maybe you can tell me a way out of this goddamn war that you seem to be knee-deep in."

A car drove by, clouds parted and a full moon shone down on the quiet boulevard. Todd loved that white light. For so long that was all he'd seen of a night sky. Just rays lighting up barred prison windows. Years of not seeing the round or slivered or pock-marked moon. No man on that moon. No dark and light. No mystery. Made him... look back at Bo.

Clearing his throat, his face hard, unreadable, he said in a soft halting voice, a voice weighed by heavy thoughts, "Even though you've... completely messed up my life in such a short, short span o' time..." He paused. Looked at the sky again. Looked back at Bo. "I don't forget what you did for me, for what you tried to do... for me. I remember you... uh... visiting me those times in medical. And... uh... the job and... getting my uh... workers … to be my cell mates." He glanced down at his leather shoes, at the details, the fine stitching, the narrow style. He could so easily see the canvas shoes he wore back in Statesville.

"I know you tried to do more. I know that I was not able to... to help you... help me."

Bo nodded in the direction of Todd, surprised by his... sharing. "You're Viki's brother, you're a father, a husband. You had bad luck in your life."

"That what you call it? Bad luck?"

"Yeah. Fact is, I didn't think the punishment was commensurate with the crime. You got railroaded." He studied the quiet, listened for changes in Todd's breathing, his stance. Listened for a way into Manning's locked-up truths. But all he could hear, sense, was the city's nighttime traffic.

"Manning, you didn't choose Statesville. You think you did. George told me you wanted to pay for your sins. Karma for other crimes. But... you need to know that you had no chance of getting anything less than what you got."

Todd looked up again, a question on his features. "Ok. I was at the negotiation. You and George tried to get less time, and they wanted more."

After a moment, Bo went on. "But the feds were unhappy with the five years. They wanted MORE. You don't remember... you didn't sign anything until you were behind bars. That deal you made in that hospital room was like water through a net. The feds used your illness to claim incompetence in making the deal. They had a judge throw it out two days later."

"I don't understand."

"The feds... were set on you getting it as bad as it could be. They were set on a trial. It was coming. Evidence was tight against you, your reputation, your condition... everything was stacked against you. Five years was never gonna happen in a trial. You'd have ended up with twenty-five. George and I fought them like crazy. So the five years in Statesville was TRULY the best that was gonna happen for self-defense and that killing you really had nothing to do with." Bo shook his head, looked hard at Todd. "You did not choose Statesville. You were thrown inside like yesterday's trash."

"You didn't tell me any of this. Neither did my fuckin' lawyer. Neither of my lawyers..." He wondered if Tea knew about this near-miss. Back then. Before, before...

Bo nodded, "George didn't want to go against your instructions. Something about you blackmailing him."

"What was your excuse."

"I figured you'd fight harder for your life if you thought you put yourself in prison. I didn't think you feeling like a victim would serve you well."

"Did it work? Your...psychology."

Bo shrugged. "Only you can tell me that."

Todd threw his head back, breathing out hard, throwing his hands out, "Wow! I'm just learning all kinds of shit tonight. Nothing... my friend... NOTHING is as it seems. Is it." He breathed deeply, still drunk as hell. Looked at Bo again. "How is the 'truth' about Horenda, or what you think is the 'truth,' gonna help this war?"

"You didn't just kill him for kicks. If I know the whole story, maybe I'll stop going after you. Maybe... buried in the truth is a way for you to help me stop this war. Or maybe, hell, maybe this Horenda zero victim is just bullshit. Maybe the Serrano-Irish war was going to happen regardless of Horenda getting killed or not. You know things, Manning. I know you do. Maybe you can help fix this in ways the law can't. Or... maybe there are ways for the law to work BETTER with your information... than without it."

The air chilled further and Bo looked up and down the street, amazed at its desolation. Faintly, very faintly he could hear music. The two men gazed at one another. Todd shook his head, "I don't know anything. Not now. Maybe in a few days. I don't know." His last words were whispered.

"I can get you out of MK."

"Jesus Christ. Is this on a billboard somewhere?"

"I know things, too."

"Well then, if you really do know things, then you'd know there is no getting out of MK. It's for LIFE." Todd glanced around. "Now get the fuck outta here. Nora will really hate me if you end up dead 'cause of me."

"I didn't know you cared."

"I don't... I'm just bein' charitable."

Bo got in his car, watched Todd walk back to the alleyway, walking in a ragged line. That same limping walk that he'd gotten so early on thanks to being jumped by inmates. He walked with his head down, hunched once again in that coat. He didn't look as confident as he usually did. Maybe the booze, maybe stress. Bo got out of his car, trailing him. Watched him go into that door of that aged building, looking like a door into hell. When the thing closed, the clouds drifted back and the moonlight faded.

When Bo returned to his car, he contacted Henry. Gave him the address of the building. "Check it out. It's one of Manning's hangouts." When he took off, he wondered if maybe, just maybe he'd gotten an "in." He wondered if just maybe... despite everything... Todd had stayed a good and decent person after all.

What's gonna be left of ME?

Todd walked the hallway of the underground club, his coat swinging with that swagger he got in prison. Once again, he got looks but only brief ones. He wasn't the sort of person people liked to look at for very long unless they had a taste for blood. Their own. The music was hot, bouncing, sexy. The smoke was thick from Cuban cigars and cigarettes. The drinks were flowing. Todd moved through the tight crowd, a parting happening, like the Red Sea for Moses.

When he hit the corner table, his people nodded a hello, all full of respect, consideration. He eyed them and looked at what all the celebration was about.

Ernesto was out of prison. The former leader of the Statesville prison branch of MK. He got up when he saw Todd and they shook hands, gave a loose hug. Pedro sat coolly at the head of the table. Ernesto made a space for Todd, shoving away whoever was next to him.

"Good times, Blanco. Have a seat, my brother. Where's Rolon?"

Ignoring the question, Todd asked, "When'd you get out?"

"Today, man. And look at the party!"

Todd smiled at him, nodding his head. "It's all for you, man." In Spanish, Todd said, "May the women and the rum be plenty." The table laughed and cheered a cheer for Ernesto.

They started talking business pretty quickly, Pedro watching his crew closely. Ernesto had a pretty strong hold on the drug trade from the inside. So he wanted to know right away from Todd who the competitors were, who was moving in on their territories, what was moving, what wasn't. Being the information man, Todd knew that stuff. Knew how to cripple rivals. Caught him up to speed on the Serrano-Irish situation. Caught him up to speed on a major commodity of MK: dollars to Cuba. Much of the money MK made for higher ups went to Cuba. After a while, the drunk was finally fading.

Ernesto, being the new guy, but being a powerful one, assigned jobs to different people based on Todd's info. That's how it worked. Drinks flowed, Todd choosing not to drink more because he needed a clear head now. Needed it around MK people. He didn't notice any particular mad-dog stares, or surprised looks, making him conclude that Rolon really had been acting on his own. Pedro got up and pulled Todd away, pulled him to another table, quieter, away from people.

"I heard you had trouble."

"It's over. Resolved."

"Is it?"

"Shit happened. It's done."

"You off the drug, my son?"

"You gonna protect me?"

"Yes." Pedro clapped Todd on the shoulder, feeling him flinch at the touch. "Don't worry, I have an eye on people."

"Do you?" Todd felt a flash of anger rush through him. He narrowed his eyes at the only man who'd he considered a father figure of late. Twisted as it was. "He came into my house and tried to KILL me. He was INSIDE my house. Inside my bedroom. Forgive me, Padre, if I don't feel very goddamn protected."

Pedro sniffed and nodded, "For that I'm sorry."

"I want to know what happened. I want to know HOW THAT HAPPENED."

"Free will. It won't happen again."

"I want to know how many other 'free will' thinkers there are who might have it out for me. How many do YOU KNOW?"

Pedro straightened in his seat, took hold of Todd by the shoulders, "Nobody that I know of is out for your blood. You're MY SON, as much as any BLOOD family of mine. I will learn if you're at risk. Comprende?"

Todd sat back hard. "No, no... comprendo. You stopped listening to the noise of MK, leaving me to him. Is this how you work? Leave us to kill each other off?"

"Manning... you're losing control. And I don't like it."

"Fuck you! He put my family in danger. That's unforgivable."

Pedro eyed Todd, a serious look on his face. He reached for Todd, held his shoulder, feeling that flinch again at the touch. That told him how bothered Todd was, that he... was scared.

"You're right, our families are precious to us. You're my family, Blanco. You are integral to the success of this organization." His voice dropped, "And you're integral to the salvation of OUR blood families by getting us out. Legitimacy."

"You're ain't gonna get shit, neither of us are, if I'm DEAD." Todd paused, sighing, looking in the distance, looking for Leticia. "And what the hell is going on with Ernesto. He's not gonna like you chasing legitimacy. What's your plan on him?"

"I have some ideas. Come to my house tomorrow. We'll talk." He nodded, lifted his cigar and smoked like the fat cat he was. Watching the crowd. The crowd watching them. He bent his head to Todd, "Go enjoy yourself. Go."

Pedro was done with him. Which was good. More to discuss later. Todd got up, needing to get to Leticia. He walked the club. He knew she was here. Didn't see Manuel Carro the child rapist either. Finally found Leticia serving drinks, taking money for speed she carried in her black pouch. Her long black hair flowed like black oil, her dress not much different. Tight... like BP oil on a Gulf of Mexico pelican. She saw him and started to run, but he shook his head at her, "Come here, bitch." Ran her down in the hallway, pressed her up against the wall, "YOU HAVE TALKING TO DO! TO ME!"

Leticia tried to fight him but there was no way. He grabbed her by the hair, by that pretty, pretty hair and pulled her into the bathroom. He threw her inside and slammed the door shut. Pushed her hard against the wall.

She was furious, "WHAT? You found Rolon, you found him! You nearly killed him, you son of a bitch! My daughter-"

"Your daughter... your beautiful ROSE, who is her father, Leticia? WHO?"

"Rolon! I told you!"

"That's a LIE, woman! WHO is her father?"

Leticia was scared, as scared of Blanco as she'd ever been in the entire three years she'd known him. He shoved her against the wall again, just hard enough, and she burst into tears. "Please, please..."

"Explain this to me! I don't understand!"

Leticia threw herself at Todd, holding onto him, feeling all that muscle under his coat, and she talked fast, "It's your son's girl, Rose belongs to Jedediah. Please..."

"Explain this to me! Does Rolon know?"

"Yes, he knows."

"Leticia!" Todd grabbed her shoulders and shook her, "Explain this!"

"We lied to protect Rose, your son, to... give everything to Rose. All the power of MK. If Rolon was her father, she'd be protected. If Jedediah was... she'd have nothing. And I'm so connected here, I couldn't bear being on our own. Jed is so young..."

"But why Rolon? I could have done that for Jed! I could have!"

"Not at the time, Blanco. I didn't know you yet... I didn't know Jed was your son yet. All I did know was that... Jed got caught up in a bad deal, and it was just better then for him to be alone. We pretended Rose was Rolon's just to protect her. It's all so stupid now..."

"What did Jed get caught up in?"

"I don't know." She wiped the tears off her face, but they kept coming. "I don't know what it was. But it was bad."

"Shit." Todd sighed, stood back, looking at Leticia crying her eyes out. "Rose is my... my granddaughter," he growled, "You've been with me... and my son... what the hell were you thinking. You should have told me."

"He and I haven't been together for a while. I didn't know who he was to you, until after I met you, until after you and I... It's not like that." She sniffled, "He's young and sweet... and... deserves much more than a whore for a wife."

"Where is she?"

"Rose?"

"Rose. Where is she?"

"Why?"

"Because you're right, she deserves more than a whore for a mother. I'm gonna get her. She's my family. She's not going to stay in that hell hole of an apartment for another minute."

"Blanco... don't do this."

"You entertain in your apartment... three feet away from where she SLEEPS. You lose, Leticia. YOU LOSE. Where is she?"

"She's at my place... Jedediah is there, but... but..."

He turned on his feet, and Leticia's mouth dropped open in horror, panic... "No... no... NOOOO!" She followed him, threw herself at him, hitting him with her fists, everyone looking. "Please don't do this!" He turned and grabbed that hair again, bringing her close to him, "You're a whore, nothing but a whore. You don't deserve MY Rose."

Tossed her back, stalked the hallway... Leticia ran to him, grabbed the front of his coat, "Don't you dare, you bastard! Don't you dare!"

He didn't feel anything for her tears, he didn't care if he was starting his own war with Rolon, he was going to collect his Rose, goddamnit. Snap some sense into Jedediah. He was going to do it, if he hadn't walked into a war outside that bathroom.

When Todd grabbed Leticia by the shoulders to yell more at her, he saw something come through the dark, zipping past him, before any sound hit him. And right before his eyes, Leticia's head got knocked back, blood splashing outwards, behind her. A shot between the eyes. Her body dropped like a rock. Todd flipped around...

Looked at the biggest Serrano motherfucker heading his way. A gun stretched out at the end of the bastard's arm. He'd just blown Leticia's head off without a thought. Screams started going off behind him, shots firing. The bastard just smiled at Todd.

"Welcome to hell, Blanco."

Yeah, Todd would have headed to Leticia's place, if the Serranos hadn't decided to take out the MK leaders in their very own club.

Bang, bang.

To be continued...