“There are a lot of people in that ‘we’ – some we can’t mention right now for certain reasons.” If I didn’t know he was family, this would sound like some conspiracy theory story. “But Alberto Garcia, Deimos, and myself are a big part of it.”
“The part we CAN know about,” Logan mocks snidely.
“For now,” Haley answers with a strict face. “You have to understand that these are not topics anyone easily talks about … as a matter of self-preservation.” She frowns. “I think you’ll get it as we go on … so just listen.” She nods at John.
For once, all the boys in this group are serious at the same time, not one is making a snotty remark or saying something random, and that itself is scary as poop.
“This story starts years ago – before any of us were even born – with three friends that grew up in the ghettos.” He takes a sip of water.
“George Garcia, Derick Grimm, and Alexander Blackburn had a rough start in life … abusive fathers, addicted mothers, shitty neighborhood -” He pauses as if contemplating what to say next. I know George Garcia from long ago … he was like my father’s boss or something.
Derick Grimm must be Damion’s grandfather. I’ve never met him.
Alexander is our grandfather, father’s side, and whenever I think of him, a small chill runs down my spine. Not that I remember much about him, but because my brothers were scared of him. They always said he killed our grandmother, who died long before I was born.
“Never a good combination for a kid to grow up in. So they made a pact to get rich and powerful and to get the hell out of there no matter what they had to do. They sold their souls.” I can understand the getting out part … but the rest doesn’t sound too good.
“They started small, stealing drugs, guns, booze … anything they could lay their hands on, and reselling them. They started a gang and they made money. George excelled as a leader and under his iron will they started more and more gangs all over San Francisco – making more and more money. Enough to send Alexander and Derick to university.” He sips some water again.
“Alexander studied law, Derick business. Together the three of them became a force to be reckoned with – each doing his part. George managed the gangs, creating more and more of them all over San Francisco, pulling young poor kids into a life of crime and drugs – devastating neighborhoods into destructive crime zones. From the notorious Hunters in the Bayview area to the Towerside gang based in Vistacoin Valley, all were under his rule. If anyone tried to oppose him, they simply got wiped out and replaced.”
Wiped out? What does that mean? Did they kill them? I come from gangsters, criminals, murderers! I feel sick. A burning sensation shoots from my stomach up my throat. I swallow it back and it leaves a torrid taste in my mouth.
“Derick took care of the business. Alexander handled the law, and soon they managed to put police, judges, and even politicians on their payroll. Nobody could touch them.” He sighs.
“And then the first kids came along – Alberto Garcia, Deimos, and Xander, your father. And a year later, Liliana Garcia and me. Being the children of the rulers came with all the luxury you could ever imagine. We had everything we could ever dream of and went to the best schools and universities – not knowing it came with a cost.” He stares through the open glass doors to where the moonlight ocean is visible in the distance.
“Derick died from a heart attack and his wife, pregnant with Sophia, took his money and started a new life with her kids.” I guess Deimos and his sister dodged the bullet.
“Later, George took in some orphans, two boys.” His eyes drift to find Kiara. “Your dad and uncle – that’s why we ended up best friends.” He gives a sad sigh.
“Unlike Xander and Alberto, and I guess Kiara’s father and uncle, I wasn’t pulled into the business. I was free to do as I please. I was naive, or maybe I chose to be blind, but I honestly thought back then that our dad just didn’t love me … or want me around. That I was a disgrace to him. But I was wrong,” he admits. It feels as if the room is spinning. Why don’t we know any of this? Or is it just me that was left in the dark? I scan my brothers’ faces, looking for something that suggests they knew all along, but like always they’re unreadable, stiff, and stoic.
“It’s only after your mom’s death that I realized Xander sacrificed his soul to give me that freedom.” His eyes drift off, getting misty as if he’s thinking way back. “But that’s not important for not.” He gets up and starts pacing up and down in the room. There are a few minutes of utter silence … the proverbial pin-drop moment.
“I’m going to skip the part about how your father met your mother, his cancer treatments, and the rest of the family stuff you all know,” he says flatly. “What’s essential is that Alexander and George got themselves involved with The Circle.”
“What’s The Circle?” Logan asks. I would also love to know.
“They’re a very powerful group only the elite of the elite can belong to. The richest people in the world. And they unofficially and secretly rule the country,” Jackson snobs.
“Okay, this is getting rather ridiculous. It seems way too far-fetched.” My brain can’t comprehend my family being part of any of this. “And the President rules the country.”
“He thinks he does. But it makes perfect sense if you think about it, Sis,” Jackson says planarly. “The Circle owns 92% of the world’s money. Of course, Alexander wanted in.” How does he know so much?
Damion’s leg next to me squirms lightly and I realize that my nails are digging into his skin. How did my hand end up there? I jerk it away.
“Until he started to embezzle their money. They quickly realized it, so they sent in a spy,” Garcia continues. Novel reading 101 – never mess with big powerful groups. It never ends well in any book … and I’m sure it never ends well in real life too.
“A guy called Harry Brown started working as a bookkeeper. He quickly found proof … some discrepancies in the books … well on his way to confirm Alexander as the thief.” Which I guess would not have gone down well with The Circle people.
I bite my lip to try and keep calm. I’m not sure I want to hear anymore. I’ve always been proud of my family name … of the accomplishments. But now disgust is forming a lump in my throat.
“So, let me guess … Grandpa had him killed?” Logan again.
“Even worse,” Jackson answers, “He had him tortured.” Now I’m beginning to wonder just exactly how much my brothers actually know. And were they involved in any of this?
“Eh … yes … but Harry would have taken Alexander down if it wasn’t for his wife.”
“His wife?” Axel asks surprised.
“Yeah … you see the thing is, Harry’s wife, Lucy was a bit … eh … ambitious and she crawled her way into Alexander’s bed. She told him that her husband spies for The Circle.”
“Stupid fucking bitch,” Ilkay snarls.
“It’s always some dumb female that ruins the best plans,” Jackson snickers. Then he glares at Damion. “Or make you break the rules.” For a moment the two boys silently eyeball each other again. Then Jackson chuckles and turns his gaze to our uncle.
“Well, poor Lucy was tickling the devil’s testicles. She just didn’t know it.”
“Exactly,” Uncle John blares. “Alexander used Lucy against her husband … promising her the world. Idiotically, she went to Garcia and framed her husband with some false proof.” He sighs deeply and I wonder if it’s difficult for him to talk about this.
“Garcia, not knowing that his partner was two-timing him, forced Xander and Alberto to ‘deal’ with the problem.” He makes air quotes with his fingers.
“And believe you me … Alexander made sure that Harry was properly dealt with. Lucy was hanged in their home … making it look like a suicide. Then Harry was tortured, cut up like a slaughtered ox.” He gets a sad expression on his face, pulling his mouth into a tight lip.
“But somehow Harry, even though badly wounded, managed to escape with his two kids. Eh … ” he glances at Jackson and for a moment it seems as if they’re having a secret conversation with their eyes. Then Jackson tilts his head and our uncle pulls a tight lip.
“Mm … eh …” He struggles to find the right words. “Long story short … about two years later a car bomb killed both George and Alexander.” His face contorts into a sorrowful sneer. He again eyeballs Jackson.
“And now it seems he’s back.” His eyes are still on my brother. Jackson takes something from his pocket and hands it to Ilkay. It’s a gold locket, one of those that can hold a photo.
“Harry Brown is the man in the photo.” He wipes his eyes with his fingers and down the bottle of water.
Date = 8 November
Place = San Francisco (Damion’s house)
POV – Damion