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Blood Ties: The Forsaken
Blood Ties: The Forsaken
Blood Ties: The Forsaken
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Blood Ties: The Forsaken

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After the Storm, nothing is Forsaken.



The saga of New York City Detective Jake Castillo comes to a head in the final installment of the Blood Ties trilogy, The Forsaken. In an effort to leave his painful memories behind, Jake relocates to the Midtown South Police Precinct, where his reputation has quickly preceded him. The detective soon finds himself investigating the murder of a high class escort, which quickly leads him to the heart of Manhattans Financial District and several high-powered executives with secrets that they would kill to keep. Castillos life gets more complicated when his older brother returns to New York City for one final score that puts him directly in the sights of the Maxwell Brothers, two of Harlems most notorious underworld figures. Meanwhile, the hatred between the detective and crime boss Frank Colon is reignited, leading to a chain of events that will ultimately force the detective to choose between his loyalty to his family, and the reckoning of his greatest enemy.



A complex tale of family loyalty and unrelenting vengeance, The Forsaken is the violent conclusion of the Blood Ties trilogy featuring Jake Castillo, a New York City Detective who is haunted by the demons of his past as he delivers justice on the streets of a corrupt city.

LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateApr 2, 2013
ISBN9781475982978
Blood Ties: The Forsaken
Author

Geraldo Cruz

Born in the Bronx, NY and raised in Queens, Geraldo Cruz studied Forensic Psychology at John Jay College of Criminal Justice while cultivating his passion for writing. He has previously published two other books, Blood Ties and Blood Ties: Dark Storm. He currently resides in Rockaway Park, New York.

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    Book preview

    Blood Ties - Geraldo Cruz

    Copyright © 2013 by Geraldo Cruz.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

    iUniverse

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    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-8296-1 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-8297-8 (ebk)

    iUniverse rev. date: 03/19/2013

    Contents

    Prologue

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Epilogue

    For Nellie

    Prologue

    Oh! Oh my God! Cheryl screamed as she rode back and forth, moaning as she grinded herself against her client uncontrollably. He clutched her hips tightly, driving himself inside of her violently with each stabbing motion, smacking her backside hard as she drove him toward his climax.

    Arrghh!!!!! the man yelled loudly as he erupted inside of her, squeezing her tightly before finally falling back on the bed, exhausted. Cheryl quietly got off the man and walked over to the dresser, picking up a pack of Marlboro cigarettes that lay there.

    Jesus Christ, she said, putting a cigarette in her mouth and lighting it up. She took a quick drag and smiled at the man. You are definitely the best customer I’ve got.

    He sat up on the bed and wiped the sweat off his brow. He took a deep breath as he picked up his pants from the floor. Really? he said, putting his pants on and zipping them up, I know you must say that to everybody.

    Actually, I do, she giggled, But with you, I actually mean it.

    Why’s that? he asked, lacing up his shoes.

    Because you’re the only client I have that has been able to get me off, she said, taking another puff of the cigarette. "Most guys only worry about themselves… their attitude is like, ‘Fuck, I’m paying you.’ Yeah, they’re paying me—most of them go maybe five minutes before busting their load. But you… you’re like a stallion. And the thing that kills me about you is that you’re so young and good-looking. Most of my clients are in their mid-fifties, and are just your typical dirty old men. But you could get any girl you want."

    The man tucked his shirt inside his pants. Normal is boring, he replied, Yeah, I guess I could see myself with the daughter of some head of a major corporation, or even worse, the daughter of one of my father’s friends. And we could go, get married, have two kids, and fuck missionary position for the rest of our lives, or at least until we reach the age where we’re too wrinkled to stand the sight of each other. He laughed to himself and looked at her. "Shit, it would be the typical American Dream, all that anybody could ever want."

    So, what’s wrong with that?

    The man laughed. That’s my father’s dream. Not mine. To me, monogamy is a four-letter word. I think I would slice my throat before it ever reached that point.

    Cheryl shook her head. You really hate him, don’t you?

    I can’t stand that fucking man, he huffed, "Having all his hopes, dreams, ideals and values shoved down my fucking throat my entire life. When are you going to do something with yourself? When are you going to get married? You need to start thinking about your future—sometimes I just want to tell him to shut the fuck up."

    Cheryl shook her head as she put the cigarette out in the ashtray. You’ve got issues, man.

    You don’t have these problems, huh?

    No, I don’t, she replied happily, "Outside of work, my life is pretty simple. My mom is cool. Then again, she thinks I work in Macy’s."

    Cheryl walked out of the bedroom and into the living room, with her client following closely behind. He grabbed his jacket from the sofa and reached into his wallet to pay her fee. The man handed the money to her. Cheryl just looked at the cash, puzzled.

    Something wrong? he asked.

    I don’t know, she replied, I was just thinking about something.

    What’s that?

    I think I let you off pretty cheap.

    Excuse me? he said, insulted, What I give you every week can hardly be considered cheap.

    I mean, yeah, you pay the usual fee like everybody else, but let’s face it—you’re not really like everybody else, are you? I mean, considering who your father is and all…

    He put on his leather gloves and looked at her, puzzled. Are you trying to blackmail me?

    She smiled deviously at him. A girl’s gotta look out for herself these days, you know?

    The man stared at the floor and smiled to himself. Somehow, I thought you were smarter than that.

    Without warning, he reached across, the palm of his hand smacking loudly against her throat. He gripped it firmly, squeezing tightly as he pulled her toward him. She tried to free herself, but he was too strong. He looked into her eyes, almost amused by her feeble attempts to break his grip. Instead, he just smiled.

    I guess I was wrong.

    He hoisted her body into the air with one arm and slammed it down violently, straight through the glass coffee table in the middle of the living room, shattering it upon impact. Before she could do anything, he was upon her, grabbing her throat once again and squeezing with all the strength that he had. She tried furiously to free herself from his grip, but could not. Cheryl tried to push him off her with her legs, but her efforts were met with a punch to her ribs. Her attacker maintained his grip, his rage fueling him as he watched her struggle helplessly. A few precious seconds later, slowly but surely, her movements became weaker and fewer, until there was no movement at all.

    The man stared at her eyes, which were still open, and closed them with his hand. He got to his feet and stood over her body.

    It’s a shame, he said coldly, I actually liked you.

    Chapter One

    It was the early hours of Monday morning when Detective Jake Castillo awoke to a throbbing headache. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten a good night’s sleep. Most of his nights were spent tossing and turning as he tried to escape one nightmare after another.

    The door to his bedroom swung open, and his eight-year old son William entered, already dressed. You’re still not ready yet? the boy asked, I thought you said you were going to drive me to school.

    Jake rubbed his eyes, flicking away the morning crust. What time is it?

    7:55. I’m gonna be late.

    Relax. I’m still going to take you.

    Forget about it, William muttered as he walked out of the bedroom, Maybe I can catch a ride with Anthony and his mom.

    Will…

    It was too late. Jake could hear the door slam loudly as his son exited the apartment. The detective sat upright and brushed his hands through his hair. Pain in the ass, he thought. He knew that raising a son alone would not be an easy task, especially with the way things happened when Serena died. William needed a father, but it was difficult to raise a child alone, especially being a New York City Detective. Jake was lucky to just spend a few hours with him, as the majority of Will’s time was spent at his grandmother’s house. And lately, it seemed as if most of Jake’s spare time was spent finalizing the move to his new apartment on the Lower West Side.

    Jake scratched his beard and sat up on the bed. His body was aching, as always. No matter what he tried, he could not alleviate the stress that plagued him daily. Things had gotten so bad at the 23rd precinct that Castillo requested, and received, a transfer to Midtown South. An assignment he was to begin at 9 a.m. today.

    The detective walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, allowing the soothing streams of water to pelt his body as he cleansed himself. He let the water hit his black locks, and shook it off like a wet dog coming in from the rain. As he stood, he thought about the significance of this day. It was the start of a new chapter, hopefully a better one. After the shower, he quickly brushed his teeth and went to his closet. He grabbed a pair of blue jeans and a black collared shirt. He donned them quickly, and laced up his black Timberland boots. Jake pushed his hair backwards with his hands, and the strands easily fell into place. He put on his black trenchcoat and walked over to his bedroom mirror.

    Well, he grinned, This is about as good as it’s gonna get.

    And with that, he walked out of the apartment. Jake hadn’t been this nervous since he was a rookie, and up until now, had very little time to even think about the transfer. His feelings on the matter were mixed at best. On one hand, he was saddened to leave his colleagues at the Two-Three behind. He would miss both Detective Romero and Detective Johnson. But at the same time, he knew a change was needed. Every time he walked into the 23rd precinct, he was forever reminded of the Kurt Austin murders, and what happened to Serena.

    Castillo walked outside and toward his black Mustang. On his way, he could see his neighbor, Maritza, walking up the street. Maritza was a doctor at Mt. Sinai Medical Center. Ironically, she had first met Castillo when he she treated him for bullet wounds, only to find out later that they lived in the same apartment building.

    Hey, he said, smiling, How’s life in the ER?

    She shook her head, obviously tired. I’ve been on call for 12 hours, she replied, I’m ready to hit my bed.

    Jake looked at his watch. Well, I still have ten minutes…

    "When you would probably need only two, she quipped, knowing exactly what he was going to suggest, Such a clown."

    You know, you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone. Who else is gonna hit on you more than I do?

    You have your charm, that I will admit. she beamed, reluctantly, So, when is your last day?

    I should be out of here by Friday. It’s just a matter of paperwork, and me moving a few minor things. Most of the heavy stuff is already in the apartment.

    Where exactly is this place?

    It’s over in Chelsea. It’s not too bad.

    Maritza shook her head sadly. Not going to be the same without you and Will running around out here. You two acted more like brothers than father and son.

    That’s because I’m a big kid myself. Jake replied, Sometimes, I still don’t know if I am cut out for this Daddy shit.

    Why do you say that? You’re a great dad.

    I don’t know… . I just get this feeling that he resents me.

    Give him time, Maritza said, patting Jake on his chest, You guys will work it out.

    I guess. Well, I gotta get to work. Hopefully I see you before I leave.

    Yeah.

    Who knows, maybe you’ll actually let me hit it…

    Maritza blushed and smiled politely. I think you better go.

    Castillo grinned devilishly. Never say never.

    Jake got into his car and rolled toward the precinct as the sounds of The Heavy’s How You Like Me Now? blared from his stereo. As he drove, the feelings of nervousness that plagued him earlier slowly began to dissipate. Castillo drove through West 35th Street and 9th Avenue, circling the block for parking. Finally, he found a spot and got out of the car. Before he could even start walking, he could see his favorite reporter, Wendy Fuentes, waiting for him.

    What the hell are you doing here? he asked, puzzled, Shouldn’t you be at work?

    Hey, I go where the stories are, she replied playfully, You didn’t think that I would let you start your new assignment without wishing you luck, did you?

    Thanks, he replied as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, I have the feeling that I’m going to need all the luck I can get.

    "You’ll be fine. You were only the best cop in the Two-Three."

    "Yeah, well this ain’t the Two-Three."

    Speaking of old news, have you heard about Frank Colon?

    Colon’s name caught the detective’s attention. It had been months since he had wasted a thought on his old adversary. What’s going on?

    "It looks like the District Attorney is indicting Frank Colon—again."

    Jake shook his head and smiled. I guess some people never learn.

    Any comment?

    Tenth time’s the charm, I guess. Not really much more to say on the subject, is there?

    "How about off the record?"

    They’re never going to get him, Castillo said in a defeated tone, They’ve been trying for almost ten years, and they still haven’t gotten him. What makes them think this time is going to be any different?

    Do you even want them to get him?

    Not really. But you and I both know why that is.

    He’s a killer, Jake.

    He’s my sister’s father, Wendy. The only father she’s got, and she loves him. You don’t have to sell me on the fact that he’s a total scumbag. I know he is. I went after Frank Colon for six years of my life, swearing I’d never stop until he was a dead man. Castillo looked down at the floor and shook his head. Other things just became more important.

    So, that’s it? You just let it go?

    For now, he grinned, I’m not granting Frank Colon any type of absolution for the things that he’s done. I haven’t forgiven, nor have I forgotten. When the time is right, he and I will cross paths again.

    Have you talked to your sister yet?

    I’m just finding out about this now. I haven’t had a chance to talk to my sister yet. Castillo looked at his watch, which read 9:01. I’m late. Are we done?

    For now, she smiled, Good luck today.

    Thanks.

    As the detective entered the precinct, a feeling of uncertainty engulfed Castillo as he walked inside. Every police transfer had a story attached to them, no matter if it were truth or fiction. Castillo could only wonder what type of story preceded his arrival.

    He walked over to the desk sergeant. Where’s the Detective Squad Room?

    Upstairs, first door on the left, the sergeant replied gruffly as he grabbed his pen to sign the detective in, Who’s asking?

    "Jake Castillo. I’m transferring in from the Two-Three."

    The man stopped writing and looked up at the detective. Castillo?

    Jake nodded.

    You’ve gotta go see Lieutenant Griffin before you do anything. That’s who you’ll be reporting to. He picked up the phone and dialed. Lieutenant, he said, Your new detective is here. The sergeant hung up the phone and said, Go ahead.

    Castillo shook his head and walked up the steps. The desk sergeant did not leave a favorable impression on the detective at all. He could only imagine what his Lieutenant would be like.

    The detective walked into the squad room virtually unnoticed. There were five detectives total, three men and two women, all minding their own cases. Castillo walked over to the Principal Administrative Assistant’s desk.

    I’m here to see Griffin, Jake said gruffly, Where is he?

    She didn’t answer. Instead, she just pointed toward the office in the back. Real friendly, Jake thought. Castillo walked past the reception area and toward the office. As he passed the other detectives, they all took a short glance at the new arrival before going back to work.

    Griffin? Jake asked, stepping into the office.

    The man swiveled in his chair and smiled at the detective. He was a white man in his mid-forties, with black hair and brown eyes. He had a receding hairline and was dressed in a gray suit. Well, well, he grinned, "Our savior has arrived."

    Castillo looked at the lieutenant, puzzled. Excuse me?

    "Our savior, Griffin repeated, displaying a manila folder to the detective, The man, the myth, the legend—Jake Castillo, in the flesh, here to save Midtown South from its self-made decay."

    I’m sorry, Jake said, confused as he sat across from his new boss, Maybe I’m missing something. Do we have a problem?

    "You tell me, cowboy. I’ve spent most of the last week going through your files, or should I say your press packet, The Lieutenant said facetiously as he threw the folder on the desk, I’m going to be very frank with you, Castillo—I have no use for heroes. I have no use for cops with baggage. I have no use for guys who think they’re above the law. And judging by this impressive reading material, your file suggest that you’re everything that I do not want, which means, yes, we have a problem. Griffin got up from his chair and stood over the detective. Make no mistake—I didn’t ask for you to come here. I didn’t want you to come here. But I had very little say in the matter, so I guess I am stuck with you."

    Castillo glared at the Lieutenant. I’m just here to do my job.

    I’m glad, Griffin replied, Because I am going to keep my eye on you, and at the first sign of trouble, I’m gonna ship your ass back under the rock you crawled out of. Do I make myself clear?

    Yeah, Jake muttered, biting his tongue. "Crystal."

    Good. Now, let me introduce you to the others.

    Great, Jake thought, so much for first impressions. The detective slowly got up from his chair and followed Griffin out into the squad room.

    Everyone, Griffin said, addressing the other detectives. This is Detective Jake Castillo, and he’s going to be joining us. Jake, these are Detectives Luke Ramsey, Eddie Dylan, Evy Samir, Nick Mendez and Nefertiti Thomas.

    Castillo gave a nod of acknowledgement, and eyeballed each detective in the room. Luke Ramsey was a tall black man in his mid-twenties, bald and clean-shaven. He was meticulously dressed, wearing black slacks, a purple shirt and a yellow tie. Dylan, on the other hand, looked like an average Joe. He was a white man in his early-thirties, with brown hair and brown eyes. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and blue jeans. Evy was an olive skinned Mediterranean woman in her mid-twenties, and was very attractive. She had short black hair and hazel eyes, and was dressed in a white blouse and black slacks. Nick Mendez was a short Hispanic man who looked to be in his early-thirties, with short black hair and neatly trimmed goatee. He was dressed in a black pinstriped shirt and gray slacks. Finally, Nefertiti Thomas was a light-skinned black woman in her mid-twenties, with long brown hair and green eyes. She was dressed in a long-sleeved white sweater and black slacks. She was also very attractive, but unfortunately, Castillo could sense the same feeling of resentment emanating from Thomas as it did from the other detectives. Jake was in hostile territory now, and he knew that he would have to prove himself—to everyone.

    Well then, Griffin continued, Now that the introductions have been taken care of, your desk is right here, across from Mendez. You can ask our PAA, Lisette, to bring you anything you need once you get settled in. The Lieutenant walked out of the squad room and back into his office, shutting the door behind him. Castillo looked at the others briefly before sitting down at his desk. The room was uncomfortably silent as Castillo could feel the eyes of his fellow detectives burning a hole right through him.

    Castillo, Mendez said, breaking the silence, Is it true you’re the same guy who put away Kurt Austin a few years back?

    Oh God, Jake thought, here it comes. That’s what people tell me.

    Right, Mendez grinned, What about Frank Colon?

    What about him?

    You went toe to toe with him for almost six years, and then you just stopped. What’s the deal with that, man?

    There is no deal. Other things became more important.

    Like what? Ramsey inquired.

    Castillo looked at Ramsey. I don’t feel like going into it.

    So, that’s it, huh? Dylan said, This is the tone you want to set?

    "What is this, Tribal Counsel? Jake asked incredulously, I’ve known you guys less than five minutes and you’re already breaking my balls?"

    I don’t think we’re trying to break balls, Jacob, Evy said, in a thick foreign accent, We’ve just heard so much about you that, quite honestly, we don’t know what’s truth or fiction.

    Believe what you want to believe, Jake said, filling up his desk drawers. I don’t really care.

    Half of the shit sounds made up, if you ask me. Dylan said facetiously, "I mean, between the Austin case and those run-ins with Colon, I could see that shit happening in a Vin Diesel flick, but not in real life. They don’t make cops like that."

    Castillo peered over at Thomas, who continued to work at her desk. Would you like to interject your thoughts here as well, Thomas? he asked, I mean, I already heard Griffin’s opinion of me before I had a chance to sit down. Now, I’m getting an earful from the rest of the squad. Would you like to add your thoughts?

    Thomas looked up, seemingly annoyed at Castillo’s sarcasm. I couldn’t care less about you, Castillo, she said coldly, "All I’ve heard from the rest of these guys for the past week is Jake Castillo this, and Jake Castillo that. We have to elevate our game just to keep up with Castillo. Thomas shook her head, disgusted. I don’t have to elevate my game to keep up with anybody. You’re just a regular cop, just like everyone else in this room. So long as you stay out of my way, we’ll have no problems."

    Wow, Jake thought as he stared at her, I think I like this one. Fair enough.

    At that moment, Griffin walked out of his office. We got a call, he said sternly, Dead body, 37th and 9th. Castillo, Thomas—you’re up. Griffin handed the address to Castillo. Try not to screw up.

    The detective looked at Griffin disdainfully and snatched the address from his hand. Without another word, Jake got up from his seat and stormed out of the squad room with Nefertiti following. His first day on the job was quickly proving to be a miserable one, and he was slowly losing his patience.

    The two detectives walked outside the precinct. My car is up the street. she said subtly.

    That’s nice, Jake responded as he walked toward his car, You can follow me if you want, but I think it would be easier if we both rode in the same car.

    Nefertiti stared at him, restraining herself from reacting to her partner’s sarcasm. Okay, she said, following him, "You drive. She got in the passenger’s seat and looked at Castillo, who fired up the engine. But don’t think this is going to be a regular occurrence."

    Whatever, he replied as he turned on his Ipod, You can always walk to the crime scene if you want.

    You know, your attitude needs—

    Before she could get out another word, he raised the volume up on the device and drowned her out with MGK’s Invincible. He looked at his partner, a devilish grin planted across his face as he bobbed his head to the music. Thomas was not amused, but it didn’t matter

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