Where We Begin: Book 1

By E.S.J.L.

Troy is a young man trying to navigate his way through the dangerous crime family he was born into—desperately trying to find a way out, all while trying to protect his younger brother.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hawes & Jenkins Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9781637843260

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Where We Begin

Book 1

E.S.J.L.

ISBN 978-1-63784-325-3 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63784-326-0 (digital)

Copyright © 2024 by E.S.J.L.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Hawes & Jenkins Publishing

16427 N Scottsdale Road Suite 410

Scottsdale, AZ 85254

www.hawesjenkins.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

About the Author

Chapter 1

The moon was full and high in the night sky. I sat on the patio of my parents' house staring at it, wondering what was in store for me. Each day was something new and, in ways, frightening. I was only seventeen, and I was still finding my way physically, you could say. I was five feet nine with dark brown, almost black, hair, very dark eyes, which were deep set into my face, and high-chiseled cheekbones. To most, I suppose, I was handsome. I didn't really feel good-looking though. I felt out of place and shy, though no one knew it. I had been very popular in high school, and I went and hung out with my friends all the time. But as I was finding myself, I was realizing how all my social activities were beginning to feel very fake. Again, I felt very out of place. Nothing I did felt right anymore. My best friend, Alex, had told me not to read too much into how I felt. That it was a phase, that it would pass. I sat there staring at the moon, praying that he was right.

I went back inside after a while and lay on my bed. I lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling—not tired, thinking about life. Thinking of everything that had come and passed. Thinking again of what was yet to come. Dreading what was yet to come, honestly. I knew where my place was in my world anyway, and I knew there was no chance of escape. But I wanted it so badly, that escape, somehow. To go and be someone else, anyone else, even if just for a while.

Eventually I fell asleep, and when I woke, it was around 11:00 a.m. I was fully dressed since I had fallen asleep wearing clothes. I lay there listening to the sounds in the house, trying to hear if my parents were fighting yet. I heard nothing. I sat up, blinked, and waited for the stupor to wear off. I still heard nothing from downstairs. That was weird. Usually, I woke up to the sounds of my parents screaming at each other or to the sounds of my mother crying. But this morning, nothing.

Maybe my father had left already. Maybe my mother had gone back to sleep. I couldn't even hear maids though, and that was unusual. I stood up and went into the bathroom, which was connected to my room. I washed and changed clothes. I began to walk downstairs. As I rounded the bottom of the staircase, I saw my brother sitting on the couch. His head in his hands. I walked quickly to his side, and he looked up at me. His eyes were red, and tears were streaming down his face.

I put my hand on his shoulder, and he let out a muffled sob, so I sat down next to him. He took a deep breath and tried to explain. I came downstairs this morning and… He let out another sob.

And what? I asked nervously.

Mom and Dad were sitting here, and Mom was crying. So at first, I thought that dad had hurt her again… He sobbed again. But then she looked at me and motioned for me to come and sit with her. So I did, and she said that Uncle Timothy had died.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I took a deep breath and tried to let it sink in. My Uncle Tim had been very influential in my life. I loved him, and for him to be dead—well, it didn't make any sense to me.

How? was all I could say.

He looked at me again. She didn't say. She was about to, I think, but Dad told her to shut up, and then he pulled her out to the car, and they drove away together, he explained.

Was Dad angry? I asked.

Of course, when is he not? he replied.

Ken, come on, it's gonna be all right. Go on upstairs and get cleaned up. I'll see you in a bit.

Troy, what are you going to do? he asked.

Nothing, go on, I said.

Sure, he said as he walked away.

I sat there for a few minutes trying to think. But I couldn't organize my thoughts. It was too surreal. I pulled my cellphone out and called Alex. I told him to come over as soon as he could. I didn't even recognize my own voice. It was hollow, dead. I sat there trying to breathe, but my breaths were shallow, and my heart was racing. I realized I was beginning to hyperventilate and tried to steady my breathing. About forty minutes later, Alex walked in, saw me sitting there, and immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. Oh god, your mom. Is she okay? he asked.

I nodded quickly. Yeah, she's fine. It's my Uncle Tim. He's dead.

He was shocked. What happened?

I shook my head. I don't know. Ken told me that Mom told him this morning. She couldn't tell him how, Dad made her leave too soon, I guess. I've been sitting here trying to wrap my head around it, man. I just can't understand. I just talked to him like two days ago. Fuck! I don't understand.

Alex nodded. It's okay, man, it'll be okay. We will get some answers soon enough.

Ya right, like my father would ever tell us the truth.

Fuck your father. We'll find out the truth another way, I promise.

I just nodded. I couldn't speak anymore. I was almost sobbing at that point. Alex rubbed my shoulders and tried to comfort me. He had always been there for me. No matter what, he was my best friend.

I regained a bit of composure and looked at him. Okay, what do we do now? he asked.

I shook my head. What can I do? My little brother's upstairs and he's distraught. I cannot leave him alone.

Okay, so we wait. Ken needs us, so when your mom comes home, we try for answers from her. If not, then we go out. We'll get what we need.

I nodded. I knew Alex would see me through this. We sat there in silence together for a while. I cried and he just sat with me. Finally, my parents came home. My mom was a mess. I looked up and saw her face was red, her eyes were red, and a shadow of a bruise was forming on her cheek. I stood and walked over to hug her. As soon as I touched her, she broke down and sobbed.

Alex shook his head and closed his eyes. We both knew the bruise meant that my father had hit her again. I couldn't look at my father. If I did, I was afraid I would kill him. So I closed my eyes as well and hugged her closely. My father rolled his eyes, mumbled something, and walked upstairs.

I squeezed my mom, then pulled her back so I could see her face. Mom, what happened? How did he die?

She shook her head and wiped her cheek, wincing in pain. He was shot last night, he was killed.

I stared at her for a second. Mom, I'm so sorry. What can we do?

She shook her head. Nothing, sweetheart. I'm going to handle the funeral. Your Aunt Coral is okay too, so don't you worry. She kissed me on the forehead, winked at Alex, and then went upstairs.

Alex was behind me with his hand on my shoulder. Stay calm, he said. He knew I was fuming about my father hitting her. We can't take him right now, wait it out. He'll get his.

I nodded and went into the kitchen. I grabbed a beer and sat down. My father, he's too calm. He had something to do with Tim's death, I know it.

He nodded. I know. He took a deep breath. Like I said, we wait it out. He will get his.

I nodded. I hate this house. I have to get my brother out of here. Once he's safe, then I'll kill my father.

Alex nodded. Absolutely. I'm with you all the way. But we plan it right. No rash decisions. Think of your mother. She would want you to be safe. She'll die if you go to jail.

Yeah, I'll try to remember that. I laughed.

He raised an eyebrow, questioning my smile. I have to laugh, man, what else can I do? I laughed again.

He smiled. That's the Troy I know. We wait it out, he repeated calmly.

Chapter 2

We waited for two weeks. We got through the funeral, and we had convinced my parents to send Ken to summer camp. He'd be gone for four weeks—plenty of time to deal with my father. For weeks, my mom had been in her bedroom with her bottles of wine. I was worried about her; she had been very close to her brother, Tim. I was glad that my father hadn't been with her though. He had begun sleeping in the guest room, so she was physically safe at least.

Alex had practically moved in with us. He was at my house all the time. He didn't want to leave me alone with my father. He didn't trust my temper, and he was right not to trust me. My father had been very quiet. He would sit in his study and stare at his hands—rub them together and rub his eyes. I would watch him from the hall and fantasize about shooting him in the back, realizing how vulnerable he had made himself. He didn't consider me a threat, so I had the advantage. But still, Alex's words rang in my ears, We have to wait it out. The opportunity will present itself if we are patient. I knew he was right, but there were several opportunities in my opinion.

One night, Alex and I were hanging out in my bedroom, when we heard a loud crash and scream from downstairs. I jumped up and started for the door, but Alex caught me. "No listen. Wait and see what