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Prologue
“This is my family. I found it, all on my own. Is little, and broken, but still good.”
--Stitch, Lilo and Stitch, Disney, 2002
Simon
10 years old
Lancashire, UK
The manor house groaned and creaked from age, especially when it rained. That night, the storm raged outside my bedroom window. I liked watching lightning light up the darkness. The sky was expansive, with not many buildings to mar the view, and the dark was a new level of pitch black.
My room was facing the front drive, as I saw the Range Rover's headlights slicing through the downpour. My father had been gone for several weeks, and my mother had spent most of her time in her room. She said she was fine, but I knew the sadness claimed her. She was never well when my father went away. I wasn’t sure why she got so down because they spent a lot of time yelling when he was home.
It wasn't until I heard their raised voices that I went to my bedroom door and opened it slightly. Through the tiny sliver of space, I could see my mother standing on the top of the stairs in her robe. My mom’s voice cracked as she asked him where he’d been. My father was much taller and seemed to glower down at her. They both stood as if time had stopped. He was wearing a brown trench coat that was soaked. His dark hair was plastered back as if he'd come in and jerked his hand through it to get it out of his face.
“Why do you always start this shit with me, Rosemary?” my father growled.
“Have you been with her again?” my mother asked, fingering the pearls at her neck. I couldn’t remember a time when she wasn't wearing the necklace my grandfather gave her when I was born. She liked to tell me stories about him. He was a Lord, and this house and land had been in thefamigliafor generations. She always touched them when she was upset, as if they could calm her, but they never did.
“I was exactly where I told you I'd be; I was in London on business. It takes work to build the company, and these trips are necessary. You can't expect me to be successful out in the middle of nowhere. You refuse to move, so I travel,” my father said. I could tell he was trying to soothe her because he was using a calmer voice.
“Build your business? That's a grand way to describe it, William. You're nothing but a high-class thug now. You've been gone longer than you promised,” my mother argued.
“I've never pretended to be some aristocrat prick who got their money the old-fashioned way, off the backs of their poor tenants. Stop the class shaming and go to bed. I'm tired.” My father moved toward his bedroom. My parents had always slept in separate rooms.
“Don't walk away from me, William. I know all about Monique. Your whore wrote me a letter. Did you put her up to that to hurt me?” My father had his back turned to her, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him to face her.
He gritted out, “Last time I checked, you haven’t wanted to be in my bed for a long fucking time. I said go to bed.”
“I hate you,” she yelled as she pushed him, but he was so much bigger than her that he hardly moved. I watched her slap him across the face, and him reach out, grabbing her by the upper arms. I opened the door so I could see more and realized she was twisting and turning her body as she kicked him. Terror sliced down my spine as I watched my father shake my mother violently. I rushed down the hall as a scream echoed throughout the manor. All I could see in my peripheral vision was the fabric of my mother's clothes flipping down the stairs. When I got to the top of the staircase, my mother was lying on the ground floor, her arms and legs askew, and she wasn’t moving. My father was just standing there, and when I looked at his face, it was devoid of emotion. I ran down the stairs calling out to her, but she didn’t make a sound. I didn’t realize my father had followed me down the stairs until he was crouching at her side and touching her neck with his two fingers. I anxiously watched his expression, but it remained emotionless.
“Simon, go call Gustav. I'm going to call emergency services,” my father said flatly.
I've cried twice in my life; that night was the first time.
Chapter 1
Simon
Present Day
The warehouse is dark as Bruno and I work on rigging the C4. It’s just past dawn on Sunday. The Kalamafamigliaowns this place, and the pineapples that just got transferred here will be on fire soon enough. Bruno is rigging the detonator into the compound when I notice something in my peripheral vision. A guy is running toward the front gates. I pull out my Glock and shoot, but he swerves, and the shot goes wide. The man doesn't hesitate to run around and pull the trigger of his own gun. Still, he wasn't really in the proper position as the shot ricochets off some metal above where I'm standing. He decides to keep going and is running toward the fence and his freedom. There is an old Ford truck on the other side of the metal gate.
My ski mask is obscuring my face, and Bruno is wearing one too, but we still can't risk this guy getting a message to his crew. I run faster towards the guy, but just as he closes in on the gate, he turns around. I don't think, I just pull the trigger, and it hits him squarely in the chest. He falls to the ground sideways. When I approach him, he's breathing shallowly, as if he's in great pain. There’s blood that is making a wide stain on his shirt, and I aim my gun again, this time getting him in between his eyes. The light dims from them instantly, and I feel nothing for taking this man’s life as if this isn’t real life at all. I put the gun in my shoulder holster, got the guy behind his arms, and started hauling him back toward the warehouse. Kicking open the door, I deposit the body inside. I head back out the door and jog to Bruno, who is walking toward the back fence.
“Did you take care of it?” Bruno asks.
“Yes,” I confirm as I crouch through the opening in the fence we used to get into this facility. Bruno nods and follows, carrying the detonator in his hand. Once we're both on the other side and heading down the hill, Bruno stops and flicks the switch on the device he's holding. A ball of fire expands into the sky, we feel the ground vibrate from the impact, and I grab onto the koa tree for balance. Bruno takes off his mask and smiles at me. He's missing a tooth on the bottom left of his front teeth. I take off the cover too and feel the ocean breeze wafting up from the shore below. It shocks me how pleasant the scent of gardenia is after the destruction we've just wrecked. Pineapples are among the many legit business ventures the Kalamafamigliahas, and they just had a significant harvest. The money they've lost tonight will be a thorn in their side. Being a nuisance may be more rewarding than I thought it would be.
Chapter 2
Leilani
Present Day
The large dining table's sideboard is overflowing with dishes: scrambled eggs, bacon, pastries, fruit, orange juice, and coffee. My brother Bane is already sitting at the head of the table, his tablet in front of him, scanning the New York Times. The French doors are open, and the gentle breeze is fluttering the curtains. When I survey the horizon, I see the blue of the sea. Our mansion sits on top of a hill with manicured lawns and Jacaranda trees with a few coconut, banana, and eucalyptus trees sprinkled into the mix. My mother was fond of landscaping, and our groundskeeper ensures her gardens are kept in prime condition. My parents have been dead for the past seven years.
