Since his liver transport two years ago, Daniel Riley had been slowing down on the drinking. Not stopping completely though, but Charlotte, his wife didn't know that. No one knew that every Friday night he would escape to his basement den, lock the door, pour a glass of brandy and listen to music. It was his way of letting go of the stressors of the week.
This Friday was no different; he came in, locked the door behind him and went downstairs. The basement was cold, someone left the little window open. Probably the cable guy that was here two days ago. Danny went to close it, then sat at his desk and turned on the dim desk lamp. He poured himself a glass, used the radio remote to turn on the music, leaned back and closed his eyes. The voice came out of the dimness of the room, so soft he thought he imagined it.
"Hello, Daniel."
Danny slowly opened his eyes and stupidly thought, why is the cable guy here? Did something happen? But as Jack stood there in the center of the room, hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, wearing black jeans and black Reebok sneakers, he knew this was no cable issue. He slowly reached for the gun he kept under his center desk drawer and said, "Since you know who I am, I assume you've come here to die tonight, boy."
"My name is Jack."
"Is that supposed to mean something to me, Jack?" he said but thought, what the fuck happened to his accent? He's American, not Irish. This is not good at all. Danny searched with his hand and realized his gun wasn't there. No matter, he had another one in the bookshelf behind him.
"No. I'm a nobody to you. Just collateral damage of the great Daniel Riley, who would not be refused. Who gets what he wants, no matter the costs."
Danny stood up slowly. "I cannot argue with that. I do get what I want, no matter the costs. But what do you want, lad? Because a wee thing like you didn't come to kill a great man like if me." He moved slowly to the left as he spoke.
Jack had not moved. "I did. I came to avenge my family. Family over everything, isn't it? That's what Rab Riley used to say."
Danny froze. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
Jack continued, "But you didn't live by that code did you? It was Danny over everything, even family. Even if it tore the family apart."
Danny held his glaze but slowly moved his hand across the bookshelf to the China bowl. "Aye. I've made mistakes, but I'm not a regretful man. I am however an unforgiving one." His hand found the China bowl but it was empty.
Jack still has not moved. "Do you know I go to Mass every Sunday? Confession every week. I have asked for forgiveness in advance of this night every day for the last 14 years. For the Father to have mercy on me for doing what I have to do. That Mother Mary and St. Jude would protect me. I'm quick to forgive others for their sins, in repentance for this great sin that I knew I would commit. My nature is to be regretful and forgiving. But not for you, Danny. There will be no forgiveness for you. And there will be no regret later."
Danny laughed. "Who the fuck are you!?"
Jack said again, "My name is Jack."
Danny said sarcastically, "Well best be on with it, Jack! Let's see what you're made of, wee thing like you," Jack still didn't move. He wanted Danny to feel trapped and afraid. Danny scoffed, then moved toward Jack, when he heard a woman's voice behind him.
"Don't you take another step toward my brother." A gun cocked.
June came from the corner pointing her gun at him as Danny turned around. He laughed a little, saying "You're even smaller than him." He stood between them and looked back and forth. "Did you think this through wee ones?" he asked, condescendingly.
"Yes," Jack said. "Every day for the last 18 years I've thought it through."
"18 years! You've been holding a grudge for 18 years, lad? Are you my long lost son?" Danny joked.
"No. But you wish I was. You wished we were were your kids with Betsy instead of Jamie. You wish you had his wife, his kids, his home, his life. That's really why you took his life from him."
Danny's face fell and heart started beating outside his chest at the sound of Jamie's name. This was the first time since Jack started talking that he felt afraid. Jack continued.
"You wished you could be him in every way. And because you couldn't be him, you started taking everything from him. First you took his wife, tried to break her mind, body and spirit, tried to break him down mentally and emotionally. Then you took his best friend away, forcing Nate to choose between his best friend and his family. Then you tried to turn the Family against him. And when you realized that would never happen, you tortured and killed him and his wife. A fucking shame you never found his children."
Danny was trying to figure out how to get out of this one. He said, "Aye. A fucking shame indeed. So what is it you want, Jackie and Junie, because I feel like if you wanted to kill me it would have been done already."
June answered before Jack could. "We want you to die the same way our father died. Screaming." Danny was looking at Jack as June spoke, looking for his weapon.
"With my wife and daughters upstairs? I don't think Jamie would approve of his children doing such a thing. There's a code we live by."
June answered again, "And where was the code when you raped my mother in front of me, her two year old daughter?"
Danny turned to June in surprise. "Someone's been talking! Was it Drew's stupid arse? He never had the stomach for it anyway. What'd ya do with him?"
"We gave him mercy," Jack said. "And now he's dead."
Danny turned back to Jack slowly. "You killed my baby brother?"
"And Barney. It's just you left. You."
Danny didn't believe it. Yet he hadn't heard from Drew in over three weeks. And Barney he didn't speak to often anyway. Still. Danny pulled out his cell phone slowly from his pocket. Neither June or Jack moved as he tried to make a call, because they knew it would not go through. He looked at his phone and he had no signal. He looked at Jack who still had not moved nor shown a weapon, and June's weapon was small. He could take them, he thought. He was terrified, armless and defenseless, but he refused to show it.
He yelled, "Come and get it over with then! I won't die on my knees begging like your pathetic father! He was a useless cunt, a pussy of a man who used his charms to win people over. But not me. I saw him for what he really was. I did you a favor. You wouldn't want a dickless father like that."
Jack didn't react. He knew he was trying to bait him so he would make a mistake and Danny could over power him. Danny yelled again. "C'mon! Enough suspense! You came here to kill me innit? Do it already!"
He looked back and forth between Jack and June. Neither of them moved, June with her gun raised between her hands directed at Danny, Jack standing with his hands in his sweatshirt.
Danny scoffed again moving toward her first and said, "Just like I thought, dickless just like your-"
But Jack swiftly pulled out his gun with the silencer attached from his center pocket of his sweatshirt and shot Danny in the abdomen. It took Danny a moment to realize he had been shot. He touched his stomach as blood poured out, not watching Jack at all. Jack had raised his pants leg and pulled the 16 inch pipe tucked in his shoe against his leg. He swung it high and brought it down over Danny's head with all of his might. Danny's head burst open with blood, the same scar across his forehead that Nate gave him 18 years earlier.
Danny fell backwards against his desk, but didn't get a chance to recover, as Jack swung again from right to left across Danny's face, channeling David Ortiz, aka Big Papi, best Red Sox player in his lifetime. He could tell he broke Danny's jaw, he felt the crunch vibrate throughout the pipe. Danny hit the floor hard, with so much blood in his eyes and hands. Jack swung down five more times as Danny started howling, breaking his shoulder, his hand and his arm. He stepped back panting.
June moved forward and wrapped an extension cord around both of Danny's feet tight, then pulled his legs backwards and wrapped the same cord around his wrists. Danny was officially hog tied. He was yelling incoherently and spitting out blood. But June and Jack both knew that his wife Charlotte went to bed early on vicodin like she does on Fridays, his oldest daughter was out bar hopping with some new blonde American girls she met, and the youngest daughter was in her room with her headphones on listening to music and smoking pot. No one will hear him.