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But I know it’s impossible.
There is no way out.
We’re screwed.
8
DAMON
At least once everyday there comes a point when I can recall the worst day of my life, and I relive it to the point when I can feel the moment in my veins - where I feel the moment burst through me like fire erupting through a volcano.
And it makes me so very fuckingangry.
It was not just the worst day of my life; it was also the day that upended my entire world and changed everything.
But, at the time, it did not feel like one that would be so monumental: it was simply a nice, sunny, summer’s day. Warm.Inviting. Chicago was looking its best. All brightness and smiles. Tall skyscrapers glistening in the sun. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. Everyone in the Windy City seemed so damn cheerful.
I certainly didn’t expect the danger coming my way.
But it came for me, nonetheless.
Joshua and I were walking out of our luxury downtown hotel. He’d flown me out to Chicago on his private plane,promising his godson a weekend away from Crystal River and my family mansion. We had planned on watching the ballet out there. Arts and culture were never my kind of thing, but Joshua lapped up that shit like it was gold. He was a trueculturedman. And like with anything he did, I wanted to be part of it.
Even if it included watching random men in leotards prance around a stage.
I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to be with him, no matter what or where it was.
I had always been close to my godfather; ever since he helped baptize me as a tiny baby, I guess. And I would like to say the man was fond of me.
While I might have been the black sheep of the Penmayne family, Joshua Hall took me under his wing and made me very much feel like I wassomebody. Like some wise old mentor in a movie, he taught me everything I needed to know. Everything about life, business, relationships, and how to be a man and make sure other men respected you. Every fucking thing a strong man should know as a tearaway, shy boy emerging from the acne-ridden, awkward teenage years. Joshua Hall basically became my surrogate father when my own family ignored me.
I looked up to him.
Ilovedhim. In the same way an adoring son might love his own father.
And, sure, he was a bad man: he ran a criminal organization in New York City. He did terrible things to build the life he had. He was close to my father and his media empire. They worked together to help each other build their organizations.
But Joshua was the man I trusted above all others. The man I would do anything for.
Joshua and Father were best friends when they wereboys in Crystal River. They rose up together. My father went into media and news ownership whilst Joshua took charge of a gang in New York, reforming it and shaping it until it became a powerful city-wide organization. He owned nightclubs and bars and gambling dens. An empire under his control. He had nothing dealing with children. He never harmed anyone innocent. Sure, what he technically did as a business wasillegal, but the man still held onto a strict code of honor and values that shaped who he was. Something so important to him that he passed it on to his godson.
He had a code of honor and values that shapedme.
The same honor and values that I’ve tried my utmost to take with me throughout my entire life.
He was my guide foreverything. There was no issue too small that I wouldn’t have gone to him with and could rely on his expert advice. He meant the world to me.
And my world came crashing down that day. The worst day of my life. The day I have thought about every day since. The day that still lives as pure emotion through my bones.
“Tonight we’ll head to the theatre early,” Joshua was telling me as we stepped out from the hotel into the Chicago sunshine. “I know the artistic director of the ballet company, and he’s promising us a private tour of the backstage before the performance. We have a private viewing box lined up to watch it. And after the show, we’ll go out for dinner with the principal dancers and my friend and also the director of the production. Don’t worry, you’ll be given ample opportunity to tell them how boring you found the show.”
I looked up at my tall godfather. He had an elegant poise to him. So confident. Always wearing expensive black suits.
Sometimes I imagined myself as him - that perfect posture - that inherent confidence that I felt like I was lacking. That ability to run such a complex organization without seeming like it stressed him in any way.
He was a perfect role model for me.
“Sounds great,” I replied to Joshua. “And, yes, I willdefinitelylet them know how boring the show was.”
