TWENTY-EIGHT
"Defense is our best attack."
—Jay Weatherill
LISA
"How much is this one boy costing us?" My father sighed, smoking like a steam engine while leaning against my '69 Mustang.
I readjusted my gloves. "$58,378.23. But I paid a flat sixty just to get it over with."
God, I hate the cold. But what could I expect from a winter in Chicago? The past few months had gone by painfully slow, and now, here we were, standing outside and freezing our nuts off for a kid.
"I could think of ten different things to do with sixty grand, and none of them revolved around smuggling a boy over the border."
Sixty grand was like a grain of sand on a beach for us. He was just bored, so bored in fact, that the man had even taken up writing.
"You didn't have to come, Father."
"You are all out of brothers for the time being. I figured we could use the quality time now that you're weeks away from becoming a parent yourself."
The biggest shit storm that had fallen upon us in the last couple of months was Victoria, and I could hardly blame her. She'd had a hysterectomy, and each day she looked at an enlarged Jen, she broke down. It was finally too much, and Nickhun took her back to the castle in Thailand. She still had months of recovery to go through, on top of another round of chemo. I would give them as much time as they needed. Nickhun wasn't just my cousin, he was my brother, and Victoria was his heart. Bambam and Mina, on the other hand, were one step behind dropping off the face of the planet. After their exile, he and Mina only spoke to me when they had to while on the campaign trail. I did have to give them credit, they were finally good at something: being sock-puppets. They smiled for the cameras and made us all look good. In a few weeks, they would be home, and I would need to speak with Bambam, but for now, I needed to make sure that all the hatches were locked down.
That reason was exactly why we were currently parked right outside the city, waiting under the bridge for my package.
"Are you nervous?" my father asked, handing me his cigar. I waved him off; it wasn't worth the hassle Jen would give me if I came home smelling of smoke. She was more than sensitive to it now.
"Nervous about what?"
"About your son. I understood why you and Jen didn't want to talk about it while there was still a chance she could lose him. Your mother and I have tried to give you both some time to let it sink in, but, we're both kind of shocked you haven't had more worries. Neither of you have even mentioned a nursery, nor did Jen want a baby shower…"
"She didn't want a baby shower because we both knew she would have snapped and killed every last one us." I could just see her now, a baby rattle in her hand, hammering away at some poor schmuck's skull. And that poor schmuck would have probably been me.
Jen and I had spoken about the baby; we spent most of our evenings talking about him. What we would name him, how we would handle our work and parenting. Jen didn't open up well to people. It had taken two years of marriage for her to even truly be open with me. Going to my parents was not something I figured she could do just yet.
"I know you and Mom want to be included more," I said, "but Jen's just not good with being personal, you know this. She's working on it and I can't push her. We're thinking of naming him Ethan Antonio Manoban."
"Ethan?" He grinned, turning to face me.
"Yeah." I grinned in return. "I wanted something unique, and she told me to fuck off, that his last name was unique enough. She kept reading off baby names, I kept asking if it was a name of an appetizer or entrée. We went down a line of 'E' names and Ethan just popped out at us. Feel free to pass it on to Mother so she can start embroidering sweaters and monogramming silverware. Hopefully that will keep her off the baby shower thing."
"About that…" he trailed off.
"Please tell me you didn't. Please, for the love of God, don't tell me Mother is going forward with it." Pushing off the car, I turned to him.
He continued to smoke, trying his best to not meet my gaze.
"Are you kidding me? I'm doing all I motherfucking can to just make it through the next couple of weeks. She's going to think this was me."
"Aww, the poor Boss is afraid of her big, pregnant wife?" He laughed, throwing his cigar on the ground.
"Says the man who probably tried to talk his wife out of this and failed. And I'll let her know you called her big." As if he could stand up to his wife either. We were both fucked, and the moment I got the chance, I was throwing him under the bus.
"Your package is here." He nodded towards the van driving through the small creek towards us.
Peering up at the bridge, I spotted the guns waiting as the older van pulled up right in front of us. I hated dealing with human traffickers; they sickened me. The shit we did was of each person's own free will. We didn't hold the needle to their veins or the powder to their noses. It was all on their own accord. Traffickers were sick and they deserved everything that was coming to them, but they still knew how to get a body. And I needed this kid.
The four men pulled the small boy out of the truck. Both his hands were bound, a blindfold over his eyes. The poor kid must have stood at my hip. He fought and struggled against the men, with tears rolling down his face. They held onto the collar of his torn, filth covered shirt.
"I told you he was not to be harmed and that he was to be informed of where you were taking him," I said.
"He alive, ain't he? Lucky too 'cause we got another offer for him. It's gonna cost you another ten. Or we'll take him and walk."
Why people chose to test my patience was beyond me. It was like they wanted me to repeatedly prove I was willing to beat the shit out of them. My father glanced at me with a sickening grin on his face that could have only been matched by mine. I nodded and he knew what this meant.
"Let the boy go and you get the money we settled on, along with your arms," I said.
They smiled at each other before grabbing the boy again.
"No! No! Déjame ir. Let go!" The boy cried, trying to fight.
Sighing, I pulled at the stacks in my jacket and threw it at one of their chests.
"That's the half I owe you," I told them before throwing another ten towards him. "And that's the ten. Now hand over my package."
They were all enjoying the fact that they had just stiff-armed a Manoban. They dropped the boy like a sack of potatoes onto the ground. Walking over to him, I took off the blindfold and ropes.
"Who would have thought that the legendary Manoban had a thing for exotic young boys?" one of the men said. "We can make this a continuing business venture."
"Hold on a second," I said before looking down. "You are safe. Estás a salvo," I whispered to the boy on the ground. His brown eyes were wide, shaken, and nothing but a reflecting pool of fear. I enjoyed the look on adults—on men—but for children who didn't even have all their teeth, it pissed me off.
"I'm taking you to your mother," I said. "I promise, take a seat in my car." He looked at my father then back at me.
"You take me to my mama?"
"I promise."
Nodding slowly, he took my hand and walked the three feet back to my car, my father simply opened the door for him and used his body to shield the window. Our eyes met right before I took off my jacket, throwing it on the hood and allowing them to see the two guns at my back. He simply pulled out another cigar, the man was always packing.
"What the fuck is this, Manoban?" They yelled, unleashing all their guns as two of my cars boxed us in. One by one, my men came out, guns all pointed at them.
"This, my friends, is what happens when you try to cheat me. When you insult me. Each one of my men is just itching to take your heads off. I would suggest you drop your weapons."
Their dark eyes gazed over at the nine barrels pointed at their faces before letting gravity take hold of their guns; they dropped them at their feet, holding their hands up in surrender.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at the last man on the right, still holding my money in his hairy hands. Reaching out, the little man handed me all of it before heading back in line. Strolling over to my jacket, I dropped the money and started to whistle. I pulled out my knife and gun before turning back around.
"Strip," I demanded.
"Fuck y—" Before he could finish, I threw my knife right into his nose. His body fell back as he suffocated on his own blood, desperately gasping for air, crying in pain until he couldn't cry anymore.
The rest of them started to take their clothing off.
"I have no respect for you pigs, but I was willing to let that slide for business. Then you come to me, late, ungrateful, and disrespectful. It hurts me." I sighed, loading six bullets into my revolver slowly. I enjoyed watching them panic while I did this. "And when I hurt, somebody else gotta feel my hurt. It's what makes my world go 'round."
Smiling, I shot at the first man in the groin. He screamed so loud I'm sure he popped a vein in his neck.
"Do you feel the world spinning?" I grinned.
JENNIE
I feel like an obese Jackie Kennedy.
I sighed, fixing the stupid red hat on my head right before Hanbin and Chanyeol opened the door for me.
The moment my foot crossed the line and the door shut behind me, I was in enemy territory, and I stuck out like a middle-aged man on spring break. Every badge turned towards me, some wide-eyed, others standing up straighter and fixing their ties. I felt like I was on display, but that was the point. That's why I'd worn this polka-dot coat with the gloves and hat. I wanted every damn officer in this department to notice me as I stepped into their house.
"Can I help you, Mrs. Manoban?" A young, blonde officer asked, stepping up quickly.
"You know who I am?" I smiled.
"Everyone knows who you are, Ma'am. Your wife's name is on just about everything 'round here. May I help you with anything?" I didn't like the way he referred to Lisa, there was an edge at the back of his voice, but I wasn't Jen right now. I had to be Jennie Manoban, sweet wife to a fat cat Chicago millionaire. It had been a while since we had taken down the First Lady and everything had been quiet. Too fucking quiet. And with the election around the corner, I was making sure that there would be no more surprises this November; we were in the home stretch.
"Yes, Officer…"
"Officer Scooter."
"Well Officer, I'm looking for a Ms. Morales. She was a maid in my house. I haven't been able to reach her for some time and I'm quite worried."
His whole body language changed. His arms went to his waist, and his expression, along with his jaw, hardened. "Well, Ma'am, there ain't any need to be worried. Other than being jobless and without her son, she's just fine. Due to the recent events with the President, we are keeping our witness under protection."
Did this fucker just try to backhand me under-handedly?
"I only recently learned about her losing her job," I said. "If you could please let her know she can have it back once this has all died down, I would be grateful." And I won't slit your throat.
He frowned, looking me over carefully before glancing over to Hanbin and Chanyeol. "A lot of muscle you have there just to see a maid. I'm sure you people can find a new maid in a jiffy."
"Who, them?" I pointed to Hanbin and Chanyeol. "My wife is so paranoid sometimes, and now that I'm pregnant, she's just gone bonkers. Ms. Morales has been working for us for years. She's been trying to bring her son over. When I heard my sister-in-law fired her, I felt horrible. She's not only done so much for us, but now she's stood against injustice, against the most powerful woman in the country. With that type of strength, I wish I could do more for her. I truly want to let her know that the Manobans are in her corner if she needs anything. You can do that, right officer? I'm not breaking some super-secret police code, right?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "I'll have it passed along once she testifies tomorrow."
"Thank you, Officer Scotty—"
"Scooter."
"I'm so sorry. I'm horrible with new names. It's pregnancy brain. Can you believe I'm almost eight months already? Well, I'll be off. Thank you again." Reaching out to take his hand, he smiled as he shook mine.
"You too, Mrs. Manoban. Congrats on the Senator's win."
"He hasn't won yet. The election isn't for another three weeks." Or did he have a crystal ball up his ass?
He shrugged. "Everybody knows now that the First Lady is out of the picture, your man is about to become the leader of the free world. You Manobans always have the best luck. How do you all do it?"
He wants to do this now?
"We're just blessed, I think. Good things happen to good people, right? I still can't believe all that mess with the First Lady."
"You know," he laughed, "there's this crazy rumor going around about how you were all connected in this somehow. That this was all part of your wife's master plan to get her guy in the White House for her own agenda. The First Lady said she had help, but she didn't know the woman's name. What do you think about that?"
He was pushing the wrong hormonal woman right now.
"Should I…call my wife or my lawyer or something?" I asked him, rubbing my stomach.
Before he could speak, Brooks walked up beside him. "Mrs. Manoban? Is there anything I can do for you? I'm so sorry, none of us knew you were coming in today."
"No, Officer…?"
"Brooks, Ma'am. Your family helped pay for my old partner's injuries from that Chicago factory fire last year." He reached out and shook my hand. The moment his rough hands met mine, I squeezed before letting go.
"Please, don't thank us or apologize. I'm the one who came unannounced. I had some information I wanted to pass on to Ms. Morales. But Officer Scatter…"
"Scooter."
"Right." I blushed. "Told me he would handle it. I really should get going before my wife calls searching for me."
Before I could leave, the golden haired fucker had to get the last word.
"I'm glad to see the rumors of you marrying a Manoban for power were all false. You both seem very happy."
Biting my tongue, I forced myself to smile once more. "All these rumors. No wonder you all can't bring down the crime rate. It seems all you do is gossip. Good day."
Chanyeol opened the door to the street as the car pulled up onto the curb. I wobbled slowly down the stairs with Hanbin hovering behind me. They all did that, and now that I was showing so much, I couldn't even get out of bed without help. Sliding in, I took off my hat, throwing it against the seat.
"That no good motherfucking cocksucker! I want his head! I want to beat the shit out of him until his neck snaps and then drop him over a damn canyon!" I yelled, breathing through my nose as I rubbed circles on my stomach.
"Ma'am, please. Ms. Manoban—"
"I swear on your head that if you tell me to calm down out of fear of my wife, Hanbin, I will remind who I am—baby or no fucking baby. Do you understand me?" Lisa had all but drilled into their minds that I was in need of not only a bodyguard, but someone to keep me calm.
He nodded, glancing over at Chanyeol as if to say: you're up.
"Would you like me to handle the officer, Ma'am?" Chanyeol looked back at me.
"No." I wanted to be the one to take care of that self-righteous prick. But he couldn't die, not yet. "I want eyes on him at all times. I don't want to deal with another wannabe hero cop. Right now, I'm more worried about making sure this plan works."
"Ma'am, why go through all this trouble for a maid?" Hanbin asked. "She hasn't said anything to the police in months." For some reason, his voice was just grating the fuck out of my nerves.
"We can't kill her if the police have her under protection, and killing her would only make us look bad. Scarlet went through a lot to prevent us from winning the White House, and in a matter of weeks, we will have eighty-seven percent of the electorate. There has to be backlash for that, and we don't want them using the maid against us. So we have to keep the only leverage we have: her son. She can have a job and her child, that is just as good as buying her off. Scarlet can't get to us through her."
"But will he let the maid know?"
Grinning, I nodded and stared out of the window. I waited for the phone call I knew would be next. When Beau had called informing us about his partner's ambition, we'd figured it was best to kill as many birds as possible with one bullet. We would prevent Scarlet from taking any action against us through the maid, make sure she couldn't kill the maid, and now we had given Officer Scooter a damn bone.
"Ma'am, Beau's on the line." Chanyeol turned, handing me the phone.
"Put him on speaker," I whispered, rubbing circles into my stomach as I closed my eyes. I really wanted to take a hot bath and unwind; the pains in my ankles were a nuisance.
"You're on," Chanyeol said to him.
"Ma'am, you were right, Scooter wants the maid to go undercover at the house after she's testified. He's running it past the Chief now. Should I—"
"Help them anyway you can, Brooks. Goodbye."
"Oh shit." Hanbin stated forcing me to snap open my eyes. They both stared out the windows with their mouths hanging open before Hanbin met my eyes in the rear-view mirror.
Looking out, I felt myself starting to hyperventilate. There on the Manoban's giant entryway was a massive blue sign draped in ugly birds, rattles, and cribs.
"Please tell me that doesn't say what I think it says," I hissed, my nostrils flaring as we drove.
I stared at the onslaught of cars swarming like an invasive species in our driveway. All the damn women from Evelyn's monthly charity functions were there with their fake Stepford wife smiles, and big boxes with obnoxiously large bows. It was like they were walking in slow motion with the wind blowing their hair back and their laughs reaching my already frayed nerves. Jesus Christ, it was a whole other level of hell!
"I'm going to bloody kill her. Chop her into little bits and sprinkle her over fucking Lake Michigan." I couldn't believe—well, I could believe she would do this, but damn it all. "Is there any way to get to the garage?"
"No, Ma'am," Chanyeol said. "All these cars are in the way, and she's spotted us." He nodded over at the woman dressed all in blue, waving and smiling at all the other women I knew she hated as she made her way over.
I could handle a lot of things, but a crazed mother-in-law was not one of them. But I couldn't hide out in the car like a bitch. Damn her.
Dear God, give me the strength not to kill anyone.
Stepping out, I was met by one of the plastics with the fakest red hair I'd ever seen.
"Oh my God!" she yelled and it sounded like she had cats trying to claw their way out of her throat. "Jennie, you're huge! Are you sure you aren't having twins? My cousin totally, like seriously, thought she was only having one. I kept telling her, 'Sissy, you're huge! There has to be another baby in there somewhere!' And lo and behold, she was having triplets. You're just giant, how are you still in those heels of yours? I love Giuseppe Zanotti, but there is no way I could ever wear them while I was pregnant. Not at least with my first child, this is your first child, right? You and Lisa must be so excited, a boy…" The moment her hand went to my stomach, I grabbed a hold of it as I stared into her eyes.
I wanted to kill her. She just kept yapping away. I didn't even know who the fuck she was, and she was talking to me as though we were best friends. I wasn't going to make it. Who did she think she was? Who did she think I was, that she could just come up to me like this?
"Jennie, my arm." She winced, as she fucking should.
"Jen, dear!" Evelyn came over, pulling me into a one armed hug, effectively loosening my hand off the very lucky woman in front of us. "You and that pregnancy grip of yours. I swear she could make men cry without even knowing. Are you alright, Nicole?"
"Of course," cried the hyena, "I'm not some delicate little flower. I'm stronger than…"
"Thank you, Nicole. We will see you inside, we have great wine." That shut her up and sent her running like a dog with a fresh scent.
"Now Jen, before you threaten to kill me—" Evelyn said.
"We're beyond that, Evelyn. I'm now trying to figure out where to dump your body."
Sighing, she rolled her eyes before taking my arm in hers. "Jen, I know you hate this type of thing, but it's all I have. You have your empire, well this mine. I handle public image. I'm the reason why, if God-forbid you all need character witnesses, we have people to spare. My first grandchild is going to have a goddamned baby-shower and it's gonna be the best one in the state. There will be cake, there will be pictures, and there will be baby games. You will handle it out of pure love for me, Jen, because you have not seen me crazy yet. Once they are drunk enough, you can leave, okay?"
"I want Lisa here. None of that all female bullshit," I replied, waving at a few more women as they stepped out of their cars.
"She's already here." She smiled, leading me to the door.
This would be the longest few hours of my life.
LISA
Everything within the house was dripping in blue and white; blue and white chairs, blue and white crystal chandeliers, paints, gift bags. If you could see it, it was either blue or white. It had taken her six hours to pull this shit off while Jen and I weren't home. Which meant she must have been planning this for weeks, and my father kept his mouth shut until it was too fucking late.
There were more intoxicated housewives in my house than in all of Orange County; and they sat in one massive circle around Jen, in the midst of our living room.
"She's being…unlike herself," my father whispered beside me. We were prisoners, unable to move out of the room, but unable to get close to the damn circle. So all we could do was stand by the door with our tinted blue wine glasses and watch.
Jen laughed, pulling out yet another wool onesie, which would go great with the wool vest she had gotten before, along with the silk scarf, cashmere booties and the red fleece jacket. After all, newborns just love their fleece. Jen smiled and thanked them before looking up at me and showing the ridiculous outfit. All of them snapped their necks as they turned towards me, awaiting my approval; it was only when they weren't looking that Jen's brown eyes glazed over with rage. She was being tortured, but so was I; all I could do was nod and grin as well.
"How much longer must this charade go on? I have plans for us tonight," I whispered. Though now that my mother had sprung this on her, I doubted Jennie would want to go.
"Until your mother has enough pictures to fill up half your child's baby book," my father answered. "What are your plans?"
Pulling out the tickets from my coat pocket, I handed them over to him.
"Bianca e Falliero by Felice Romani?" he read. "I wasn't aware you enjoyed opera. It's a beautiful one."
"I don't, she does. And since when do you know opera?" He had never once spoken about that hobby before.
He smirked. "I know all, kid."
"Bull—"
"Who is this from?" Jen asked, searching the white box in her hands for a tag or card. No one answered, each of the women looking at each other commenting only on the wrapping.
"Were all the gifts wanded and hand checked by the men?" I asked my father, leaning off the wall when Jennie's eyes met mine again.
"All of them were, including that one. I saw to it myself, though we didn't check for cards," he responded.
Each one of the women leaned forward, all of them dying to see what was inside. I, on the other hand, was not taking any chances.
"Can a father-to-be open one of the gifts? Or am I breaking some ancient tradition?" I winked at them, causing Jen and my mother to roll their eyes while the sane women giggled.
"Oh, I don't see why not. Right, ladies?" one of them said.
"Of course!" another answered.
"This is so sweet," someone else said. "You guys should take a picture. Right, Evelyn?"
Coming up to my wife, I kissed her cheek before taking the box slowly out of her hands. The whole thing was padded and soft when I lifted the lid. I mentally prepared myself for everything but what it was…
"Aww!" they cooed as I pulled out the white teddy bear dressed in the finest black suit a bear could have, along with a top hat and a small tommy gun in his hand.
"A little violent, but so cute," said another one of them.
"Lisa, sweetheart. There's a note in the jacket pocket." My mother pointed and sure enough, right in front of its tiny red handkerchief was a little card that had only two words and a letter written upon it:
Love Mom
~S
"Thank you all for this," I said. "Honestly, our son is going to want for nothing. I'll escape back into my little corner now." They laughed. At least someone could laugh as I handed the mafia bear back to Jen.
She didn't look at me. Instead, she focused on the women in front of her, asking for the cake.
Stepping into the hall with my father, I did my best not to yell. Someone was going to die. I wasn't sure who, but I knew damn well it wasn't going to be my wife, my child or myself.
"There is a mole in my house. This is the second time she's gotten in. I want them found, now."