Page 13 of Pocketful of Us

"And to think I drank sweet-tea in that pervert's kitchen," Presley groaned, shaking his head. "For shame!"

6

Sketch

"When Arabella left Cal shortly after the twins were born and took Seth with her, whatever little of good that was left inside of the man disintegrated. Because of his all-consuming hunger for supremacy, the malevolent streak inside of Cal slowly turned malignant. His resentment of Raff with his beautiful wife – a woman he had wanted for his own – and their baby son slowly poisoned him from the inside out. For three long years, he plotted and schemed to overthrow Raff until he finally –"

"Became a rat-bastard informant for the feds, fucked your Don over with a fabricated rape story, more than likely provided by some underage side-piece he was banging, and betrayed the entire family," Lucky filled in lazily. "Well shit." Flicking his ash on the floor, he took another deep drag of his cigarette before saying, "Your substitute Don sounds like a real stellar guy."

"He wasnevermy Don," Dad replied coolly, hackles clearly rising.

"He screwed your cousin over and you continued to work for him?" Lucky smirked. "Sounds like he's your Don to me."

"Yeah." Gonzalez laughed. "It's sounds to me like you're his bitch boy."

"Wait, aren't you breaking your Omertá by talking to us now?" Lucky asked then, attention clearly piqued. "Or did your most sacred vow fly out the window when you turned a blind eye to Cal's discretions?"

"Don’t worry about my vows. I can handle myself," Dad bit out before resuming his tale. "After Raff's arrest, the family was in turmoil. Snakes were slithering from the woodworks and everyone was labeled a rat. Only a handful of us knew for sure who handed the boss in, and unlike Cal, we would rather die than break Omertá. Trust me when I tell you that it was a fucking mess. Cal took that as his opportunity to rise to the top of the ranks and take the family on a far more lucrative path."

"Let me guess," Presley mumbled. "Sex trafficking."

"Wait." I frowned in confusion. "Who's Arabella?"

"Cal's wife, dude," Pres replied with a heavy sigh.

"No." I shook my head, rebuking the mistake. "Cal's wife's name was Loretta."

Dad shook his head. "No, Jacob."

"Sketch." Mentally reeling, I dropped my head in my hands and mumbled, "My name is Sketch," over and over again.

"Sketch likes to sketch…"

The girl.

"I love you, Sketch."

The girl.

"You'll always be my favorite, Sketch…"

The girl.

"I want you inside me, Sketch…"

Angel.

Angel.

Angel.

"I tried to warn Raff. I fucking told him that Cal was a ticking timebomb. As hisConsigliere, he should have heeded my warning, but he wouldn’t hear a word against his oldest friend," Dad pressed. "I was in Rome the night he was overthrown. The moment I got word of his arrest, I returned to Sicily, but I was too late. Carmella's body was still burning when I reached the compound, but she was unrecognizable. I only knew it was her because I recognized the little boy sobbing at the base of the makeshift pyre." His eyes flicked to me. "That little boy was you, Jacob."

"No." Shaking violently, I rubbed my knees with my hands and desperately fought back the memories trying to burrow their way back into my mind. "No, no, Mama, no…"

"…Close your eyes, Giacobbe!" Mama screamed as the bad men held her down. "Don’t look, baby boy –"

"Mama, no!" Tears were stinging my eyes, but I didn’t stop trying to reach her. "Mama, please… Mama, no!"

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