Counting Sheep

Chapter 29

Julian could instantly tell which one was the boss out of the two of them. He was of average height, maybe a little bit taller with perfectly combed white hair and clear blue eyes. His skin was a deep tan, with even deeper wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, but even though he was older than all of the other men in the room he still radiated power.

Julian could practically feel the hot lick of it against his flesh. The boss sat at the head of the table-of course. He leaned back in his chair with a groan, looking around at the many faces sitting at the table.

"Let's get this over and done with," He said dully. "I have a dinner date with my wife tonight and I really don't want to lose our reservation." He turned his attention towards the three of them. Julian or Frank as the boss knew him, Antonio and Dave.

"Do you think that I am stupid?" He finally asked after a long moment of tense silence. Antonio's jaw clenched, but they said nothing. "I know what you three have been doing—behind my back, might I add." The boss's eyes darkened slightly as he leaned forward. "What is your role in this family? Antonio, you first." He commanded.

Antonio spoke without emotion, though his hands fisted underneath the table. "I am head-lieutenant, head-capo. When Dave and Frank's presence are requested, I am the one to work with them as I am with any other aspect of the family. A direct person to speak to...for you." Antonio said the words as though they were being ripped from him, as if he could feel each miniscule nerve and threads of tissue ripping from his body in a gory display.

"Good. Now what about you, Dave and Frank?" The boss asked, eyes still cold enough they were able to burn you.

When Dave did not answer, Julian spoke for him. His long-time partner and friend was as pale as a ghost already and Julian didn't want him to draw any more undue attention to himself if he didn't absolutely have to. Plus, Julian had never met the boss before now, perhaps his punishment would be less severe. "We come in to clean up the scenes that we do not want the authorities to find out about—we clean them up and go through any evidence to make sure none of our men or any of us would be implicated in the crime." Said Julian, voice low and barely audible.

The boss smiled slightly, a greasy, cruel upturning of the lips that had Julian wanting to shudder. "Very good," He leaned back in his seat, linking his fingers together.

"So with that, I am sure you can imagine my...displeasure when I learned that MY men—men that were supposed to be loyal to me AND the family had gone behind my back to dig deeper into scenes that had no purpose of being looked into. They were WHORES! Who cares about who killed them?! What matters is our family and if one of our men did do this, it doesn't fucking matter because family stays together and we are supposed to help one another out if we are in trouble. Now, am I saying that the person who murdered these whores and their bastard children is someone from our family? No, but we are tied to these deaths whether we like it or not. Your job was to come in and clean it the fuck up—not to go on some vigilante investigation spree in the hopes of finding justice for humans that nobody cared about in the first place!"

The boss had stood from his seat in the midst of his tirade, his face turning a shade of red as spittle flew from his mouth. To end his rant was the slamming of his fist against the table, rattling it. Julian felt hate grow inside of him—pure hate and fury.

His mother had been one of those 'unimportant humans' as the boss had put it and he had to physically hold himself back from lunging across the table to rip the man's head off. It was hard, but he managed to control himself—only staring, cold and hard.

The boss took in a deep breath, reigning in his temper as he straightened his suit and sat back down. He clicked his fingers. "Christoph, a drink. Now." He ordered.