Chapter 2

Harrison

I woke up in my high-rise apartment building near downtown Chicago. The sun found a way to slide through my blinds and shine directly in my face like a flashlight. I squinted, then buried my head beneath the pillow like trying my best to hide from the light. Minutes later, my alarm clock squealed on my nightstand. I took three swipes at it until I finally gave up and smacked it forcefully onto the ground, pulling the plug out of the wall on its way to the floor.

I exhaled as I tried to force my eyes open. This was the toughest part of waking up for me, but there was a shit load of fuckery going on in Chicago that I had to take care of, and it wasn’t going to stop just because I didn’t feel like peeling myself out of bed.

I reluctantly removed the covers and sat upright on the edge of the mattress. The dresser’s mirror was directly in front of me, reflecting the tattoos on my bare chest that scattered across my pecs and extended over my shoulder and down my arm like a sleeve. My abs were hard as I ran my hand over my buzzed haircut. I was in shape, but it wasn’t by choice. My line of work forced me to keep myself up because I never knew when I would have to use brute strength to get myself out of a fucked-up situation.

I was a detective with the Chicago Police Department, and for the past several months I had been placed on undercover operations. I was the only one left of the squad that didn’t have a wife and kids at home to take care of, which meant I was a perfect candidate to be thrown right into the line of fire.

I glanced down at the alarm clock as it laid helplessly on the floor. On my nightstand, my cell phone was dangerously close to the edge as well. I quickly removed it before it plummeted to disaster. As soon as I unlocked it, I scrolled through my emails, checking to see if Captain Mark O’Malley had sent me some briefings about any new cases this morning. My inbox populated with junk mail and other bullshit that I had no interest in, but nothing from him yet. Once I cleared everything out, I tossed my phone onto the mattress and made my way to the bathroom.

My one-bedroom apartment was cheap, but I wanted it that way. I didn’t give a fuck about where I lived because I knew that if shit went down, I could handle myself. My assignments rarely kept me at home anyway, so now, I was all about saving money. Besides that, I had four registered pistols and two shotguns at my disposal, so I was daring anyone to try to run into my place unannounced. It would be the worst decision of their life.

As I walked into the bathroom, I removed my boxers and turned on the shower water so I could wash myself up and get ready for my day. As usual, I was just ready to get it over with. As much as I liked my job, the stress with always being undercover had started to get to me. I moved to Chicago almost four years ago. I was a part of the Miami police department for ten years until I got the opportunity here to become a detective. The transition was seamless for me because I had no problem changing my personality like a chameleon to fit whatever situation they decided to plug me into.

I’d played everything from a drug lord to a petty thief and murderer for hire. With all those faces, I’d never once been made as anything other than who I claimed to be. They said I had a gift, but to me, it was just something that came naturally. I never had to work at it, and I think it had a lot to do with how I grew up and who I grew up around. Crime was always a part of my life, dating back to my days in high school.

I never expected to end up on the right side of the law, but sometimes, shit worked out the way you never expected it to. That was life. After I finished cleaning myself up in the shower, I stepped onto the rug as the steam filled the air and fogged the mirror. With three swipes, I made a small circle so I could see my reflection clearer. My five o’clock shadow was thickening by the second on top of my high cheekbones. My blue eyes reflected the idea of a pure past life, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

The razor blade sat on the counter, waiting for me to pick it up and apply it to my cheeks, but I passed on it. I didn’t have anybody to impress, and I wasn’t looking for anyone. My type of work didn’t allow for serious relationships, and with the way things had gone in my love life, I wasn’t in a rush to go down that road again.

I slid on some jeans and canvas shoes, then put on a white tee-shirt and made my way to my car. A few of the tenants nodded their heads at me as I walked past. I hardly said much to anyone, and I wanted to keep it that way. People talked way too much, and if word got back around to what I did, my whole cover could be blown in less than a second. I didn’t want to take that risk, so I’d rather be seen as an enigma than someone who came off as being too friendly.

I arrived at the precinct nearly forty-five minutes later. “Hey, here comes this pretty boy looking mother fucker right now. Glad, you finally decided to show up, you piece of shit,” one of the officers said as soon as I walked into the office.

I removed my shades as he stood next to his buddy. The main room buzzed with police officers. I hated the stereotype that all police officers ate doughnuts, but I did see at least one or two boxes on different desks as I walked through the building.

“Fuck you, Mason,” I said as I hung my glasses on the top of my shirt. “I’ve always wondered why you were so worried about when I showed up, but now I know why. You’re just an ass.”

“Yeah, if I’m an ass, why the fuck did your mother leave my house last night claiming how much she loved me? Oh, by the way, tell her to make sure she brings some cookies next time. And not that fat-free shit, either.”

“My mother would never fuck someone with titties bigger than hers, you fat son of a bitch.”

The rest of the officers in the room laughed as we berated each other. It was always harmless between Mason and me. We had been friends for the last two years. At 27, he was three years younger than me, but he had just made it out of the academy one year ago, so he was still pretty much considered a rookie by our standard.

A trio of female officers walked past us. One of them covertly winked at me as she perused through the maze of desks in the room. I smirked as she quickly turned away from me before anybody noticed our silent interaction. Mason nudged me on the shoulder with a doughnut in his hand.

“Hey, nice work on that last assignment. I overheard the Captain talking about it the other day. You keep that up, you’re going to be a fucking legend out here in Chicago.”

I removed a cigarette from my pocket and flicked the lighter. The butt of the cigarette glowed just beyond my eyes as I inhaled and blew the smoke in the opposite direction. “I’m just doing my job. I get paid to get the fucking bad guys, so I get the fucking bad guys.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mason responded with a mouthful. Bits of his doughnut trickled from his lips like tiny sprinkles of raindrops. “You can be modest all you want, we know the truth. You are a fucking animal, man. Seriously.”

Captain O’Malley opened his door, and the men in the room hushed to a silence.

“Harrison, come see me. Right now.” He stood in front of his door for a few seconds, then spun around and slammed it closed. The force rattled the glass window to the left and right of his office.

Mason looked at me wide-eyed, “Fuck, man. What the hell did you do to him?”

I took another drag on the cigarette, then crushed it out in the ashtray on Mason’s desk. For some reason, I never smoked the whole cigarette. Two or three puffs was all I needed before I tossed it away. I scratched the tip of my nose with my thumb and without responding to Mason, I headed straight for Captain O’Malley’s office.

I closed the door behind me as I stepped into his office. He stood, with his back towards the door, glaring at one of the plaques on his wall. His paw-like hands were folded behind him. He stood a few inches taller than me at about 6’5”. His shoulders were wide and stocky like a linebacker. His blocked head resembled a Pitbull’s skull.

“Have a seat,” he said with his back still turned towards me.

I slid into the leather chair right in front of his desk and placed my feet flat on the floor, interlocking my hands with each other as I waited for him to speak again. He moved from one plaque to the next as I sat patiently in his chair. Captain O’Malley was one of the most intimidating men I’d ever come across in my life, and that said a lot since I’d been in the room with some of the most notorious criminals that this world has ever seen.

Even with that, I wasn’t shaken by his presence. It would take a lot more than a man his size to drive fear into my heart. He took another step to his right, then lifted his hand to straighten his plaque.

“Good work on the Taylor case,” he said as his voice rumbled the room like a small tremor. “You are proving yourself to be an invaluable commodity around here.” Finally, he shifted his attention towards me. His face was completely hairless like an adolescent teen. His nose was flattened and appeared to disproportionate to the size of his face.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Without uttering another word, he ignored my gratitude and walked to his desk, removing a folder of papers from it. He took it out and tossed it towards me. A few papers slid out of the manila folder as it slowly came to a stop just inches away from the edge of the desk. As the first paper emerged, I leaned forward and got a better look at it.

On the picture, there was a man who seemed to look right through me. His lips were pursed together as he glared right into the photo. His thick eyebrows sat just above his dark brown eyes like caterpillars slowly inching across his face. His cheeks drooped down looking like a bulldog, and a snarl appeared at the corner of his top lip.

“Tony Dellucci,” Captain Mark O’Malley said as he leaned back in his chair. “He is a mob boss out here terrorizing Chicago, and we need to put a fucking stop to it. He has everything on lock. Even some of these so-called blue collared boys out there are in on it. I don’t know it for a fact, but I have a hunch. We have been after the mob in Chicago for years, and we are just figuring out who the heads of the families are. We never can get the concrete evidence to back anything up, since we never had an undercover officer as good as you. That is where you come into play.”

I reached for a couple more papers and pulled them out of the folder. I read the details about Tony Dellucci and his family and the things they were supposedly involved in. Everything from racketeering to intimidation, to murder for hire and a laundry list of other things.

Captain O’Malley’s voice rumbled again like an empty stomach as he spoke. “A few names you need to familiarize yourself with; Chase Romero, Maria, Luca and Nico Dellucci and um,” he snapped his fingers to recollect a thought, “that’s right, Carina Dellucci. We think that is his daughter, but we are yet to draw the connections there.”

I slid the papers back into the folder and stood up. “Alright, I got it.”

“I know you do, Harrison. That is why I put you on this case. You are head and shoulders above the detective right behind you, so I know you are the best man for the job. Get inside. Get what we need to put them and the rest of his family away, and get the fuck out of there alive.”

I nodded my head, and as I went to the door, he spoke up once again. “Meet up with Stephanie at the front. She has your keys and the location of the spot we picked out for you to do your undercover work out of. You should like it. It is a lot better than that piece of shit you live in right now.”

I paused for a moment. “Alright, Captain. I’ll get right on it.”

I closed the door behind me, tucked the folder under my arm and walked to the front of the precinct to get the location of my next assignment. As I walked out of the main room, I could see Mason glaring at me with an uneasy glance like he knew I was getting ready to go into uncharted territory. I ignored his glare and continued to the front of the building. I had a fucking job to do.