Trapped In Confessions

Up until a week ago I never thought that I’d be in this mess. It wasn’t as shocking as I thought at first; But nonetheless a surprise. You must be wondering what is happening, and why. But to understand it all I will need to explain. So let’s go back to about 2 months ago.

Oh joy here we go again. Wicked does this everyday. “I just think if you're gonna run one of the most powerful gangs in Cali then you might as well not smoke. One reason how you wouldn’t die to take off the list.” Wicked explained innocently. It’s hard to disagree with him, he’s a pretty boy, dark brown silk hair, and deep evergreen eyes that draw in like a undeniable gravitational pull, and he’s smart. He had a scholarship to Harvard for crying out loud, but things got rough with his family so he had to find an out. This was it. “Oh yeah? Well if that's the case, then me dying from lung cancer or whatever is the least of my worries.” I chuckle as I say it.

I light a smoke, and slowly sink into my chair, engulfing me into the posh leather, as a sea engulfs a sunken ship. Wicked walks over to the bar and swipes a bottle of gin off the counter without bothering to grab a glass, he sips away. He’s very good at hiding his emotions, ever since his sister poppy died. Tragic really. But I know him like the back of my hand, as he does me. You get used to it after a while, the violence, losing people, and you learn to hold on to the people you have left, and move forward. It’s how you survive, the only way you can.

I own a club by the way, Diamond Point. The most popular club in Los Angeles, with the finest top shelf brandy to just cheap bud light. I found it ran down after I left home. I needed something of mine, something that I knew I'd worked hard for. I grew up with people who thought everything was bought for me, nothing earned. So I decided that was my chance. I built it from the ground up, and now it’s amazing. I didn’t know I’d be joining a gang, but to be honest, they are my family now and I wouldn’t trade anything in the world to go back.

It’s Christmas time, and although it never, and I mean never snows up here in Cali, it is. It’s rare, but it happens. Preach walked in, interrupting my thoughts, laughing up a storm. He was covered in snow, I was just waiting for the story. “OH MY LORD! I have never been subjected to such obstacles in my life. I picked up some champagne for us, and then got both of your favorite things from Trader Joe’s. I’m walking out of the car, and I slip!!! The groceries survived, but I can’t say the same for the champagne.” Preach explained with such enthusiasm, it was almost child-like. Me and Wicked joined in on the laughter, almost crying from it. After that was over, Wicked headed to the bar. “You know I own a club right? We have champagne galore here.” I said. “Yeah yeah I know, but I just wanted to be nice is all. Oh wait I’ll…..” Preach was talking when Wicked interrupted us both. He handed us both glasses of champagne. “A toast to family, friends, and stupid young men.” Wicked toasted. We all clinked glasses and drank a sip. Preach went back to talking excitedly, “Oh yeah I have a surprise for you both! I’ll be back in a shake.”

Preach ran out the door, Wicked and I went to sit down on the lounge couches by the floor. Neither of us talked as we waited. I was growing anxious, as I knew Preach wasn’t one to drag out anything. That’s when the shots fired, and I ran over behind the bar, dragging along Wicked with me. People have shot up our place before, but it was just some stupid mexicans working for some Big Gang Cartels down in mexico, who we had a problem with. But now I didn’t know. I heard I struggle outside, but i wasted no time. I grabbed my keys and opened a drawer, opened it up and grabbed my guns. Wicked did the same as he hurriedly loaded his guns. I looked over at Wicked, he was calm, too calm. “Go around back, cover my flank and don’t do anything too risky. If you can’t handle it by yourself, run and find cover, wait for me. Shoot first and ask questions later, you understand?” I say in a rush, ordering him. He nods, and begins to go. But I grab him by his shoulder, and pull him into a hug. I never do this, ever. But the way he looked at me, it just felt off. “I swear to god if you don’t watch yourself, and you get hurt imma kill them, and then kill you. Got me? Be careful.” I said worried. He looked at me winked and smiled and said, “No Promises SICKO!” and he was gone.

They called me Sicko because honestly what I did to people was sick, after my family betrayed me, and I had no other choice, I didn’t care what happened. I was angry, and I grew up from a boy with an attitude problem to a man with issues, real issues. It shows in my work now, I’m not just a man thinking he runs the block, I run all of the west coast. I have the money and the power to do a lot of things. And for anyone who stands in my way, well let’s just say they don’t come out right side up.

The noise in the front has vanished, and I stay low and crouch out the door. Suddenly I have arms around my throat. I stick my right leg between his, drop to the ground as I swipe him off of his feet, and sling him over my shoulder. I’m pinning him to the ground with my knees on his shoulder, I have to free one of my hands off of his arms, which I was holding his arms down with, to grab my gun. I do it quickly, and then I feel a white hot pain in my side. I had been stabbed. I didn’t care, and grabbed my gun, and shot him dead. I was more pissed off then I was in pain. And That’s when I looked up and saw Preach lifeless against the side of his Ford Raptor, that he had just paid off. At that point I saw nothing but red, I was filled with rage beyond belief, but yet tears still rolled from my eyes.

I ran around to the back of the club remembering Wicked had been there, and I heard gunshots while taking down the man up front. I turn out around the back corner of the building, and see wicked on the ground, clutching his stomach, which was doused with blood, grunting and moaning in pain. I rush over to him, I get down on my knees, pull him up to my lap, and take off my shirt to apply pressure to his wounds. He screams as I push down, and he’s looking at me with fear riddled eyes. He begins, “I didn’.....” then I interrupt him furious, “dammit Wicked I thought I told you to be careful, I don’t know what it is with you and being brave, But stop it! I can't l-lose you too.” Tears begin flowing out of my eyes, but I'm still mad as hell. I wasn't lying when I said I can’t lose him, him and preach were all I had.

“Mattie…. Pl-please. I wasn’t being brave…. I w-w-was turning to run back to you after I heard the shots, and there was another man. He got to me before I could shoot him. But man you’ve got to be careful. It was Mark H-H-eart!!!” he said in between gaps, and coughing up blood. Mark Heart is the biggest Mafia and Sex-trafficking's Ring leader in almost the whole world, and my biggest enemy. Grief now mixes in with the sadness as I know I'm going to lose Wicked too. “Look I’m sorry… But I’ll find him. I’ll find him and kill everyone he loves, and I’ll torture him, beyond belief. I promise You’ll be okay Wicked, I promise, Just hang in there.” I say now crying, my fingers flying to my phone, to call 911. Wicked then reaches up and grabs my hand, pushing the phone down. “No Mattie, there's no use now… I” he starts and then I interrupt him angry. “NO! You’re gonna make it okay, we have to try!,” I say this softly now, quaking underneath my own weight, tears flowing, “we have to try…” He looks up at me again, putting his hand on the side of my face, “Just promise me something will you Mattie?” he’s weaker now, drowsy. I say, “yeah, yeah anything.” He squeezes my hand, “Just Promise me that you’ll be careful, and live it up for me while i’m gone, don’t forget about me, and know that you're my family man, and…..” he hesitates this next, “I love you, alright. So promise me dude.” I say knowing that these were his final moments. “Yeah, I promise, goodbye Wicked, goodbye. And I love you too, you loser.” I say, my voice now reeking of sadness. His grip on my hands loosens, a faint smile on his face appears. A few minutes pass, as his shallow breathing stops, his smile goes, and his face turns pale as his body goes limp under me. Then I knew, I knew he was gone.

One week passes……

Two weeks pass…..

Three weeks……

Then a fourth…

I Lie in my bed, my head pounding from last night. I think I might still be drunk. I slowly pulled myself from my bed. I sat up, thinking about what happened weeks ago. Ever since then I only had one thing to worry about, one thing to do. Wakeup, Party, get drunk, repeat. It was the only way to drown out the pain, the thoughts, the nightmares. I knew I couldn’t keep doing this. So I get ready, I eat, shower, and hop on my Baby; My Motorbike. I open the gates to my club, that’s where I live. I pull out and drive off, not looking back. The whole ride I only thought off my plan to find Mark Heart, and my plans for him weren’t good. I just knew I had to be careful about how I’d get information on him. But then I had the perfect idea, My father.

I had arrived to my parents' house that next night, they welcomed me, but not necessarily with open arms. I had left one day when I was 18, and had been gone for four years. But I didn’t regret anything I did, not one thing. We had dinner that night, It was my birthday. My Foster sister was there too. The whole reason I left was to protect my family, even if they couldn’t see it. But I'd be damned if I would have stayed and got them all into a mess they couldn’t get out of.

Later that Night I was beginning to dig up things on Mark Heart, I knew I would find something in my fathers office. I dug through all drawers, files, everything, except a trunk. A Brown, old , beat up leather trunk. It was locked though, a combination lock. It wasn’t hard, I’d picked many locks before, and cracked many safes. I got it opened, finally! I was shocked to see what was inside, Forty-Five million dollars, and a small black book. But that didn’t shock me, I was a kid of two billionaires, I've seen money. But there was a letter with my name on it, Royce Mattinson, spelled out in fancy cursive over the top of the paper envelope. Fear and curiosity both flowed through me. I opened up the letter, and began to read, it wrote, “So Royce, my beloved son. I knew you’d be back, and I knew you were smart for a pretty boy like you. I know you want revenge, and I know you want to destroy me and all I've worked for. So How about instead of taking me out, you take down all I've managed to build, and a small gift of forty-five million dollars. If you refuse to take the offerings I’ve given you, then I will have no choice to go further with my punishments for you. If you think Wicked and Preach dying were bad, then you’re in for a surprise. I always knew you had a thing for Leigh, actually adopting her as my foster daughter was all part of my plan. I knew I could use her as leverage against you. It will be your mother, your friends, your brothers Jensen and Storm, I don’t care who or what. There is never a dull moment in our lives, but yet that all that life is made up of. Think about it Mattie, your father. A.k.a Mark Heart”

Leigh was something to be talked about later, he was taking it all too far. I knew I would have to change my game plan, and call up some old friends. Knowing that my Father was Mark Heart didn’t really phase me. He was the second richest man in the world, had many companies, and allies. Money can't buy happiness, but it sure as hell can buy anonymity, and protection. I had also noticed a small black book, I'm assuming that is his plans, ties, and other things. If he thinks him giving me everything is enough, he’s got another thing coming. I won’t stop until he suffers unearthly pain, and I’ll milk every second of his torture, him being my father changes nothing.

I’m bringing a new twist to the name SICKO, because they haven’t seen anything yet. For better or for worse, he’s going to pay. I have to go after him, for my mother, for Jensen and Storm, and especially for Leigh. I grab The money, the book, and Head for the car garage, as I dial up an old friend's number. The line rings…. And rings… and rings, then finally picks up. “Hello? Who is this?” The old voice says, sounds as if they’ve been smoking for years, which I know he has been. “Yeah It’s me SICKO, I need the contacts of all of our Old gang, and I need you to get yourself down to my club, Diamond Point. It’s in L.A. California. You down?” I say fast and orderly. The man sighs a heavy breath, then says, “Yeah, now what have you done now boy?” His name is Mish, a pretty cool old man, like a father to me. “I have a way to take down Mark heart, Wicked and Preach are gone, I need you for them. Please. And as for what I’ve done, that is a lot, but nothing compared to what we're gonna have to do now.” I chuckle as I explain. I hop into my car. Carrying on the conversation with Mish. I knew what I had to do, and nobody is gonna get in my way.