Chicago - 1925
JC Chasez knocked quickly on the heavy door before turning the handle and slipping inside. Randy “Curls” Timberlake sat behind a huge oak desk, eyes intent on JC, a smile reaching his lips as he regarded the young man before him. The smile was quickly replaced, however, by a scowl, his hands coming to rest on his desk, fingers twined together tightly. The man beside him, Jimmy Palotti, stood silently, arms crossed over his chest. Jimmy was Randy’s closest confidant, the only other man that knew everything going on in Randy’s world on a daily basis. Everyone else was on a strictly need to know basis. But JC knew he was pretty high on the need to know list.
“You wanted to see me, Randy?” JC was the only person, aside from his wife, who got away with calling the mafia leader Randy. Everyone else called him Curls. Or in the case of Justin and his younger brother Jon, Dad.
“Vincent Delmarco. Name rings a bell, right?” Randy stood up and walked around the desk, standing in front of JC.
“Skinny Vinny,” JC nodded, crossing his arms over his chest in a stance similar to Jimmy’s.
“Take care of him.” JC’s eyebrows rose, the curiosity spreading across his face.
“What’d he do?” JC knew he wasn’t overstepping any kind of boundaries with Randy. He was the only person who could get away with questioning Randy’s orders. Randy knew, even if questioned, that JC would still do the job, and do it well. He just liked being fully informed before he killed someone. He liked knowing why he was doing it.
“He’s been leaking information for months.” Randy brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, eyes closing for a moment. “The last shipment. The one that should have been easy to unload and even easier money. Delmarco leaked the details to Vanvino. And you know as well as me how that one turned out.” Randy’s eyes met JC’s again as he brought a hand up to rest of JC’s shoulder. For a moment it was in a comforting gesture at the mention of Vanvino’s name. Vanvino was responsible for the death of JC’s parents and siblings and Randy took just a moment every time his name was mentioned to lend support to JC. But just as quickly the comfort was gone and Randy was all business again. “You’re the best I’ve got, kid. Get it taken care of.”
“His family will need a casket for him by tomorrow,” JC said, turning to leave.
“JC.” JC stopped and turned back to Randy. He saw the sigh escape from Randy’s lips, his chest and shoulders rising and falling quickly. “Take Justin with you.” JC cursed to himself, but only nodded and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
*****
JC nodded to the two men guarding Randy’s office door, slipped his suit coat on, and stepped onto the porch, hands shoved into his pocket against the cool autumn wind, bright blue eyes scanning up and down the sidewalk. As he stepped off the porch and headed up the quiet street, his head bent against the cold air brushing across his cheeks, he cursed again.
Justin wasn’t cut out for this, never had been. And JC knew he’d get in the way more than anything else. The kid just couldn’t deal with it, with any of it. He froze up every time. But Randy just wouldn’t give up on his son. JC knew that Randy was more than confident that JC could, and would, get any job done that was asked of him. And he was praised for it, respected for it. He was the best Randy had. And everyone knew it. But as much as Randy loved him, as much as he’d taken him in when his parents had been killed, JC wasn’t his son, not really. He’d never been treated as anything less growing up, but where blood was concerned, it was Justin who shared that with Randy and not JC. Randy had never quite been able to give up hope on his real son, and it sometimes hurt them more than helped them. But JC knew better than to tell Randy this.
He knew Randy was aware of Justin’s flaws when it came to the jobs, but it had never been something they’d discussed. It was one of the few lines he wouldn’t cross with Randy. For as confident of a man as he was, this was the one thing that scared him. He was afraid to lose the only family he’d known since his own had been killed. Randy had taken him in without a second thought, told him there was nowhere else he’d let JC go. JC’s father had been his best friend, and his right hand man. Randy said there was no way he’d dishonor his friend by allowing JC to end up with strangers. So he’d become part of their family. He was given love and support, but it was never the same. It wasn’t his own family. And a part of him, although small, had always felt like an outsider.
Now, though, he’d proved himself to Randy, outshining Justin and everyone else that was connected to the Timberlake’s. And finally, he felt like he belonged. He wasn’t going to let anyone, Justin most of all, mess that up for him.
*****
There’d been a time when they’d been friends. Best friends. But when JC’s family had been killed, and he’d been accepted into the Timberlake family, Justin had resented the attention that went toward JC. Not that his own parents ever forgot about him. He got more than enough love of his own. But there was resentment that JC was now getting some as well. Their friendship had faded in the wake of competition for Randy’s support until all that was left between them was a toleration for the other, based solely on the strong family bond between everyone connected to the Timberlake family name. It was simply about honor and pride. There were no real personal feelings involved between them anymore.
They only dealt with each other because they had to, because it was expected.
The animosity between them was evident the moment the door opened, drawing Justin’s eyes away from his cards and instead onto the man standing confidently in the doorway, light from the restaurant out front shinning over his thin but muscular frame. He felt JC’s eyes on him before he could actually see him in the dim lighting from the lamp hanging over the table he was seated at.
His smile was the first thing he saw. It was forced, almost condescending. This was no social call. He was there on business and Justin knew it immediately.
“Clear out,” JC said, the authority in his voice left no room for question. The table cleared quickly aside from Justin who remained seated, arms crossed over his chest, eyes staring straight at JC, anger shimmering in them.
A short man with deep brown eyes and dark brown hair stood as well, eyes meeting JC’s own as he rounded the table headed toward the door. Chris “Tricky” Kirkpatrick. He was a wild man. Drank too much, slept with anyone he could as often as possible. He dressed only in knickers and a golf coat as opposed to the tailored suits most everyone else connected to the Timberlake family wore. His style of clothing made him look more like an average working man than part of one of the most prestigious mafia families in Chicago. But he was one of the best hit men they had. He’d do any job without question and get it done right each and every time. He was also Justin Timberlake’s best friend. JC never held that against him though. For as odd as Chris was, JC liked the man immensely. He was always good for a bullshit conversation over a drink to take your mind of any problems you might have. Chris could bullshit with the best of them, and JC’d found it a relief on more than one occasion to have him around.
“You stick around.” Chris shrugged and turned to head back to the table, taking the seat next to Justin. Once everyone else had left, the guard out front had promised no one else would be let in, and the door was shut tight, JC moved across the room to take the seat across from Justin. Justin’s eyes followed him and it wasn’t until the sound of another chair scraping across the ground caught his attention that he noticed JC was not alone.
Shifting his gaze, he caught sight of the brown haired Italian, decked out in a full three piece suit in a deep purple. His hat sat slightly crooked on his head as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles in front of him and placing his hands behind his head, fingers linked together.
No one was sure exactly how Joey “The Fat One” Fatone fit in with the Timberlake family. He had no family of his own, had been an orphan all his life, but had just showed up one day and never really left. His attitude for life and his ability to always be positive was strange among the group he was involved with, but everyone thrived off that positive attitude, looked for it in unfortunate situations. And he took direction well and shot a gun even better. His nickname was one he’d made up himself, a joke he’d started when he’d gone for third helpings at his first major dinner with the Timberlake’s. It eventually got shortened down to Fatty, but he still laughed every time someone called him that. He slid a lazy grin Justin’s way and Justin nodded slightly in greeting before turning his eyes back to JC.
JC held his gaze for a long moment, neither of them backing down, before grabbing the cards in front of him and tossing them to Chris.
“Deal em.” Chris picked up the cards and dealt without saying a word. The silence surrounded them as they all picked up their cards. Justin dared to glance around but everyone else was looking at their cards. He sighed, knowing it was pointless to question JC about the nature of his visit. JC wouldn’t talk until he was ready. Justin was sure it was a game he liked to play, just to see how long Justin could last without questioning it. And Justin wasn’t going to question it. He wouldn’t give JC the satisfaction. Without a word, JC slid two cards toward Chris and picked up the two slid back to him. Everyone followed suit, all without saying a word.
Finally, after four entire hands had been played and JC was collecting the winnings from the middle of the table, he turned his eyes to Justin.
“Your pops told me to find you. Seems he thinks it’s a good idea for you to help me out with a little job he has for me.” The tone that floated around the room left no question as to whether JC thought it was a good idea or not. Justin knew he didn’t. “There’s a rat among the family and Curls wants him taken care of.” He gaze slid from Justin to his right, settling on Chris, and then across the table to his left, settling on Joey.
“Chris, Joey. I’m gonna need your help. You both be ready to go tomorrow morning. Meet me at the corner of Ninth and Main at 7am. Pack light. Don’t draw attention. And don’t be late.” They both nodded and stood, knowing that was all the information they were going to get out of JC. Once they’d slipped through the door and it had clicked closed again, JC’s gaze leveled on Justin once again. Justin crossed his arms across his chest definitely, knowing what was coming.
“Personally I’d leave you out of this, if I could. But your father still seems to think there’s something in you. Only God knows why.” He paused, a sigh making his chest heave slightly. “You fuck this up for us, and I’ll personally see to it that you get your ass kicked. It only takes one person to make an accident happen. Remember that Baby J.” He smiled brightly for a moment and Justin cringed. He hated that nickname. JC was the only one who ever called him that, and only when he really wanted to get to him.
“So what’s the deal?” Justin asked, knowing there was no way to get out of this. He’d never disappoint his father like that. Besides, he wanted to prove to everyone, JC and himself included, that he could do this. Needed to prove it. He was tired of freezing up, tired of lacking the confidence, tired of letting his father down. He was tired of being a wimp. A part of him, a part he’d never admit to anyone, was jealous of JC, jealous of the confidence that shimmered across his face, practically shone from his body. He wanted that confidence. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t something he could just make happen.
JC sighed again. He’d rather keep the details to himself. It made life run a lot smoother when less people knew what was going on. But he knew Randy wouldn’t be happy if he found out JC’d kept the information from Justin. And JC knew Randy would find out. The little punk would go running to him in a heartbeat.
“Skinny Vinny has been leaking information to Vanvino for months. The shipment last month,” JC paused and Justin nodded, indicating he knew which shipment JC was talking about. Everyone knew about that shipment. It had been a disaster. The load of bootlegged alcohol should have been an easy job. They’d had it planned, down to the very last detail. Justin hadn’t been involved, but he knew all about it. Instead, the crew had arrived to unload the boats only to find the alcohol already gone, the crew dead, and the boats completely empty. Vanvino had been behind it, there had been no doubt. But Randy wasn’t sure how he’d found out, until now apparently. “That was his fault,” JC finished. Justin sighed, leaning his head forward to rest on his hands. Skinny Vinny. Justin knew him. Wouldn’t call him a friend exactly, but an acquaintance. They’d drank together, played cards together. This wasn’t just another enemy they were dealing with. This was someone he knew. This was part of the family.
JC stood, sliding his double-breasted coat back on and straightening his tie before his gaze met Justin’s again.
“I mean it, Justin. You screw this up, you get screwed up. Seven tomorrow. Be on time.” JC left quickly, opening and closing the door before Justin had time to blink. The click as the latch caught made him jump and he sighed again. It was going to be a long night followed by a rough day.
*****
JC slipped out of the backroom and nodded to the guard before making his way around the counter into the main dinning area of the restaurant. The restaurant was Randy’s cover for his bootlegging. It was a good-sized place with tables and booths spread out around the large room. A small stage ran along one wall, a piano set on it, and sometimes they had someone up there singing. JC liked to sit in the back on the nights of a performance, eyes closed as he got lost in the music. The soulful voices hit a place inside him, made him forget everything else going on. As the voice, usually female, floated across the room and filtered through his head, he’d forget his past, forget his future, and just get lost in the music.
Joey was waiting for him outside, leaning against the building. His hat was tipped over his eyes, blocking the glare from the sun, but he tipped it back and met JC’s eyes as when he heard the door shut.
“So is the kid still alive?” Joey asked, grin spreading across his face. JC rolled his eyes as he and Joey started walking down the street. The afternoon was bright and JC took a moment to enjoy the life going on around him before answering Joey.
“Yes he’s still alive.”
“Just had to make sure. I have a soft spot for the kid. Gotta make sure you don’t rough him up too much.” JC just laughed and turned to face Joey, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. People moved along on either side of them, no one really paying much attention to the two men standing in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Joe, that kid is far from innocent. Trust me, he’s worse than what you see.” Joey’s eyebrows rose slightly as he regarded JC. JC nodded, affirming his point.
“Baloney!”
“I mean it. When no one else is around, he’s just as ruthless to me as I am to him. He just won’t do it in front of anyone.” Joey just shook his head.
“I can’t see it.” JC shrugged and turned to start walking again, moving around a small flower stand before stopping and leaning over a bright bouquet of flowers. Grabbing them, he motioned to the vendor, pulling some money from his pocket and handing it to the vendor before turning back toward Joey.
“You don’t have to see it. It’s there just the same. He doesn’t always just take it lying down.”
“I think you’re feeding me a line.” Joey still looked skeptical, but smiled up at JC. “So level with me. I know I haven’t been around for that long, but from what I’ve heard, you two use to be friends. And now you’re not. Now you’re practically enemies. What happened?” And Joey saw it, the look on JC’s face, one of happiness from a conversation with a friend to a closed off, almost angry look. It happened so fast he barely had time to blink. But it was enough to make him pull back slightly, falling behind JC’s quick strides.
“Doesn’t matter,” JC mumbled. “We’re not friends. Let’s just leave it at that.” And then, just as quickly, he turned back to Joey, a smile back on his face again. And to Joey, it almost seemed like he’d imagined it all. But the after effect of the look in JC’s eyes was still causing Joey’s heart to beat faster than normal. JC had look scary. It wasn’t a look Joey ever wanted to be on the receiving end of again.
*****
“Mama Lynn!” JC exclaimed, walking through the backdoor and into the kitchen of the Timberlake house, the house he’d lived in for eight years after his parents had been killed and the Timberlake’s had taken him in. He’d only moved out a couple years earlier, finding a small place above one of the restaurants Randy had connections with. It wasn’t much, but it was his own private place and he loved it.
Lynn was moving around the kitchen, preparing dinner and she looked up at the sound of JC’s voice, smiling brightly. He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek before pulling the bouquet of flowers from behind his back and presenting them to her.
“Joshua, what are these for?” She took them from him, opening one of the upper cupboards to reach for a vase. It was on the top shelf and just out of her reach, so JC moved to grab it, handing the fragile crystal to the woman who had helped raise him.
“Because I saw them and thought immediately of you,” he smiled, leaning to kiss her cheek one more time before moving through the kitchen. He stopped, hand reaching for one of the spoons in a pot simmering on the stove. But before he could bring the spoon to his lips, a loud crack, followed by a swift pain, filled the room. He turned to Lynn, rubbing the back of his thigh as he regarded her guiltily. She had a spoon in her hand and was shaking it at him warningly.
“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. You can wait that long. Until then, stay out of my food. And go get washed up.” She smiled warmly at him as he grinned and moved out of the kitchen. “Josh.” Her soft voice stopped him, his head peaking back through the doorway. “I’m glad you’re joining us tonight.” He grinned again and slipped into the hallway, headed for the stairs and the bathroom. She said that to him three times a week, the three days he always came to eat dinner with the Timberlake’s, to just spend some time with them. He knew that when he’d moved out, Lynn had been worried about him. She was aware of the lack of friendship between him and Justin, and he knew that she’d half expected him to just move out, move on, and never look back. But it wasn’t something he could ever do to them. They’d taken him in when he’d had no one else, and he loved both Lynn and Randy like parents. He’d never turn his back on them. Saying that to him was her way of thanking him for that.
*****
Justin wasn’t sure how long he sat there before finally climbing to his feet and heading out the back entrance. His mind reeled with thoughts of the following day, thoughts of the job that needed to be done, the job his father wanted him to help carry out. He knew this was an opportunity to make his father proud. He also knew it was one of the last opportunities that would be given to him. He’d frozen up before and his father was lenient toward him, but he knew it was only a matter of time, only so many screw ups, before his father stopped giving him the opportunity to be a part of any of this.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do a good job. He’d psych himself up, concentrating his mind on the task at hand and being completely prepared. But then, the moment it actually came down to pulling the trigger, the moment he was asked to end someone’s life, he’d freeze, his mind losing everything he’d told himself in order to be ready. It pissed him off just as much as it pissed off the guys he worked with. It hurt him as much as it hurt his father to see that his son couldn’t follow in his own footsteps. He hated that he didn’t seem to have what it took. He hated that he lacked the confidence to go through with killing someone. He could shoot a gun, shoot it well, until it came time to shoot at someone. He hated that he felt guilty at the prospect of killing someone. This was who he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be like his father. He was a Timberlake, and with that name came a great pride. But Justin lacked the coldness inside his heart to just kill someone and not feel remorse for it. He hated that this was his weakness.
But most of all he hated that JC didn’t have that weakness. He hated that JC could confidently stand in front of someone, a gun aimed at them, and not feel any guilt over what he was about to do. And he hated that JC knew of Justin’s weakness, and used it against him any chance he got. He wanted to make his father proud, but more than that he wanted to do this right just to prove JC wrong. Justin wasn’t a weak man, far from it actually. And he finally wanted to prove that to everyone.
The problem was, it would take more than killing just one person to convince his father that he could follow in his footsteps, that he could one day take over the family, that he could be his father’s successor. He was the oldest Timberlake child and by rights, that spot, that honor went to him. But the problem was, Randy thought of JC as a son as well. There was no blood shared between them, but the bond still ran deep. And Justin knew, as well as JC did, that JC was the better man for the job. And he knew that Randy thought that was well.
Justin had overheard his father talking to Jimmy Palotti about what would happen to the family business once he was ready to move on, or was killed, whichever came first. He’d heard the silent battle his father was going through; give the title and honor to his own flesh and blood, who wasn’t cut out for the job, or to his surrogate son, who did the job better than anyone else.
The words had hurt, hearing the conflict his father was going through. But for as angry as he had been, as angry as he still was, it wasn’t at his father. He understood his father’s predicament. And he knew his father loved him. Instead, he directed that anger, that hurt, toward JC. It was his fault, after all, that there was a conflict in his father’s heart to begin with. Justin wished that JC had never come to live with them, had never been a part of their lives, at least not so deeply.
And as he turned onto the street his house sat on, that thought made him laugh bitterly. Because there had been a time, back in the beginning, right after Vanvino had his parents killed, that a part of Justin had been thrilled JC was coming to live with them. He’d been grieving with JC and for JC’s parents, but a part of him had been happy that his best friend got to come live with them. Now those were just memories of days past, years gone by. They were memories of another life, one Justin wasn’t living anymore.
The house his parents owned was modest, considering the wealth he knew his father had. But it was still relatively large in comparison to other houses on the street. He’d lived there for all of his twenty years and he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. It was home.
Making his way up the well kept walkway, he skipped up the three porch steps and slipped through the front door, slipping his suit jacket off once he was inside and hanging it on the coat hanger off to the left of the large foyer. Slipping down the hallway, his eyes caught sight of JC on the stairs, making his way down from upstairs, and he groaned softly, rolling his eyes. Of all nights for JC to pick to show up for dinner, Justin wished this hadn’t been one of them. Not that he ever wanted JC there. He’d hoped, once JC had announced to Justin’s parents that he was moving out, that JC would stay away, only showing up sparingly. But Justin soon found out even though JC lived elsewhere, he was still a member of their family, in both JC’s own eyes and the eyes of Lynn and Randy.
He didn’t doubt that JC felt a special connection to Lynn and Randy, and that a part of him came simply because of that connection, because he looked to them as the only parents he had now. But Justin was sure a part of JC only came around simply to get under Justin’s skin. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, it was working.
“Where ya been, baby J? Out practicing your gun skills? Or just walking around dreading tomorrow?” Justin met his eyes as JC made his way down the rest of the steps, standing in front of him at the bottom. Their gazes locked, a battle flowing between them. Neither was willing to back down.
“Do you get off on saying shit like that to me?” Justin asked, ignoring JC’s question. It was none of his business where he’d been. But a tiny voice in the back of his mind told him that JC was right, he had been walking around thinking about tomorrow, dreading tomorrow. JC didn’t need to know that.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Knowing I got off thinking about you.” JC said, laughing coldly. Justin only shrugged.
“It’s not my fault you can’t seem to get any and need to use your fantasies to fulfill yourself.” He moved, finally unlocking his gaze from JC’s, and started again toward the kitchen where he knew his mother would be. But JC grabbed his arm, spinning him back around and holding on tightly so Justin couldn’t move.
“You have no idea what I do in my spare time, so don’t pretend you do. Don’t pretend like you even want to know.”
“I don’t give a shit what you do in your spare time,” Justin said, pulling his arm angrily from JC’s grasp. “I don’t give a shit about you. For all I care, you could get killed. I don’t think it’d be that great of a loss. And you’d finally get to see your family again.” Turning quickly, he slipped down the hallway, leaving JC standing at the bottom of the steps. He knew that’d hit home, hit a place deep inside. And although he felt guilty for it, he wouldn’t take the words back. JC deserved it. He deserved it for sliding into Justin’s life like he had. He deserved it for taking the place he had in Justin’s family. A place Justin didn’t think he belonged at all.