by "mailto:RKteach@en.com"

Sonny's life at the Excalibur had become routine as had his life working for Joe Scully. The prostitutes in the hallways and lobby flirted and kidded around with him except when their pimps were visible, then they ignored him. The others who lived and hung out there watched him, knowing that he was Scully's boy and wary of his boss. Sometimes to liven up his life, he got into the poker game that took place in the little back room off the lobby of the hotel; regulars hung out there, playing almost every night.

It was Saturday night, and Sonny was bored, hanging out in his room, reading the new books he had bought from the used bookstore around the corner and playing solitaire. He decided to go downstairs and see if there was a chair open at the game. He hated that little room where they played, it was too small, too closed in, there wasn't even a window, and it was always smoky and full of people. He knew that he hated closed in places, small closed in places were the worst, and he didn't like to think about why he felt this way, so he didn't name the problem. He only knew what it was called, because a character in a book he had just completed had the same problem. In spite of everything about the room, the idea of getting into the game and winning some extra money appealed to him. Winning was fun, and there was no way he could lose, he'd been playing poker and winning all his life. Mike, his real father, started leaving early and pretty much left for good when Sonny was five, but Mike was a gambler, and he taught Michael Jr. to play poker at four, refined the game for the child at six, and when the boy was seven, Mike taught him how to cheat at cards. Sonny had always had a deck of cards with him at home, on the streets, at school, and he could always make some spare change playing cards. He didn't always have to cheat either, he could usually win just using his skills and a little luck, but he could cheat if it was necessary.

Sonny walked into the lobby, and spoke to the guy at the desk. "Hi Pete, they got some openings back there?" He indicated the door to the back room. "A couple of the guys just left, Sonny. There'll be seats open. Just give the knock and they'll let you in."

Sonny stood up straight and as tall as he could manage, and walked to the door. He knocked three times and then two more, and the door was opened. He strutted into the room, and soon sat down at the table. An hour later, he left, a hundred dollars richer and he hadn't even cheated. Luck and skill, he thought, luck and skill were what counted, and confidence, something he found himself developing lately. He felt pretty good about the evening and even better because he had been able to forget the size and crowded condition of the smoky back room for an hour, and use his skills to make the extra C note.

He walked outside the hotel and over a block to an all night coffee shop across the street, where he ate a small late meal and had a cup of hot chocolate. It wasn't as good as his mother's hot chocolate, but it was hot and sweet, and had whipped cream on the top. He felt warm and full as he left the coffee shop, but the feeling didn't last long. He wasn't being as cautious as usual when he walked into the alley by the hotel, and found his path blocked by two big men who had been playing poker with him just an hour before.

"Give us the C note kid," said one of them in a menacing voice. He was tall with a scar across his right cheek and cold mean blue eyes, eyes like Deke, Sonny thought. "You're a little cheat, a little scam artist," said the other one, brown eyed with a shaven head and thick muscled arms that were visible under his green jacket. The tall one grabbed him by the front of his jacket and in a moment that echoed so many in his young life, slammed him into the wall of the building. He managed to keep his head forward so that his shoulders took the brunt of the blow. Then as the guy grabbed him again, he head butted him in the stomach, stepped hard on his foot, and tried to dodge the heavier man. Mr. shaved head wasn't easily dodged, he reached out and grabbed Sonny's jacket, then backhanded him across the face, slitting his lip and bruising his cheek. Sonny kicked out and got the man's knee, then kicked again this time hitting him in the groin. The man sunk to the ground and Sonny pulled loose from the first man who had recovered from the stomach blow and was grabbing the boy's arm. He ran through the alley and into the back door of the hotel, breathing hard.

Lissa, one of the ladies of the evening who lived in the hotel was coming out of her room, dressed for her night's work.

"Oh, Sonny, what happened?" she asked, "are you OK?"

"I'm fine," he said in a practiced way, although it was obvious that he wasn't.

"I got a half hour before Al will start to look for me, come on, I'll get you an ice pack for your face. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"I don't think so," said the boy, still so out of breath that he hadn't taken his usual inventory of injuries. His shoulders hurt, but what else was new.

Lissa came out with a well used ice bag and went over to the ice machine, motioning to Sonny to follow her. She filled the bag as though she did it everyday, and handed it to him.

"Hold this against your lip and cheek," she said, "it's always easier when it's on one side of your face. You can return it to me tomorrow, kiddo, cause I got to go now or I'll need it back sooner rather than later." Then she put her hand under his chin and smiled at him. "Such a gorgeous kid, wouldn't want anyone to do damage to that face," she said with a grin. "Thanks Lissa," Sonny said, and slowly walked back to the steps and up to his room. The strut was gone, the confidence was low, and he no longer felt warm, only angry and brutalized. Then he reached his free hand into his pocket and felt the hundred dollar bill. Just the touch of it made him feel much better.

The next morning Sonny left the hotel and walked to the subway. He rode to the neighborhood where he worked, and walked into the garage where Joe kept the car. Sonny was a creature of habit, and he always washed and polished the car first thing, before doing any of the other work Joe paid him to do. His back hurt worse than usual as he stretched to reach the top of the car, but he did his best, he wasn't capable of doing a sloppy or halfway completed job. He was just finishing up when Joe and his wife, Janine walked in. She was small with reddish brown hair, hazel green eyes and kind smile. She had always been nice to Sonny. Today, she stopped and said, "good Lord, Sonny, what happened to you?"

"A little misunderstanding after a card game, Mrs. Scully. I'm fine, just a split lip and a bruised cheek, no big deal." Sonny smiled his dimpled smile even though it hurt like hell with his sore lip. Joe looked at his wife and back at the young man. "He's a tough kid, Janine, and I bet the other guy looks a lot worse. Sweep up the club, and then do your run. I want you to check in with me about four, OK kid?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Scully. Nice to see you, Mrs. Scully," Sonny replied.

"Such nice manners, Joe. Such a nice boy," said Janine as Sonny opened the door on the passenger side for her. "Thank you, Sonny."

He closed the door and went about his regular duties, hoping his meeting with Joe would go well this afternoon, and that he wouldn't be upset that Sonny had played poker and been attacked by two people he beat at the game. At four o' clock Sonny came back to the club where he was to meet Joe. Joe was sitting in his regular booth, having a drink, and laughing with one of his bodyguards. "Vince, give me some time alone with the kid," Joe said in a commanding voice, one that Sonny had practice sometimes alone in his room. Joe motioned for him to sit down in the booth across from him, and Sonny did as he was told. "Now kid, tell me what happened last night." Once again the boy did as he was told. He made the story short. Sonny wasn't one to give details. "You don't need a doctor, do you, because my wife is very concerned and she thinks I should be making sure you go to one," Scully said with a grin.

"I'm fine, Mr. Scully, and I'm sorry I worried Mrs. Scully. I'll be more careful," Sonny said. "You a pretty good card player, Sonnyboy?" Scully asked. "Yes sir, Mr. Scully." "Who taught you to play poker?" "My real father, he's a gambler. He left when I was little, but he came back a couple of times and each time he taught me a little bit more. I've been playing all my life." Sonny stopped, afraid he'd said way too much. "Well, you're going to see some poker played and some blackjack too. You may even get a chance to join in. You're moving in with my family, Sonny. My wife doesn't want a nice, well mannered boy like you all alone at a seedy hotel, and nothin' I said changed her mind. I'm the boss here and at home, but sometimes arguing with your wife is a losing battle, and since it's a small battle, I'm givin her her way. Vince will take you over to the hotel. You'll check out, pay your bill, get your things all packed up, and Vince will bring you back to my house. Dinner is at seven, be there, ready to move in." The voice was commanding, and Sonny had no words to express what he was feeling. His own mother put him out on the streets, and now this powerful man was telling him that he was to come live at his house with him and his wife and baby daughter. What did you say to that, he wondered?

"Yes sir, Mr. Scully. Thank you, Mr. Scully." That was what the boy said. Nothing else was called for.

by "mailto:scullysboy@yahoo.com"

It was Christmas, Sonny's second Christmas working for Joe Scully and living with his family. It had been a very good year. Sonny felt safe at home, a feeling he was finally getting used to, and appreciated at work. Joe relied on him for a lot of things, mostly being a runner between the bookies and the club. He handled a lot of money, and Joe trusted him. Everyone knew that, and treated him accordingly. It didn't hurt that Joe had practically adopted the kid. He was obviously the son that Joe didn't yet have. Christmas Eve meant a party at the club; a late party after all the men had seen their families. Most of them showed up with their mistresses; something that confused Sonny. He was glad that Joe didn't have a mistress. He didn't know that for sure, but had never seen him with any woman but Janine. He wondered how Joe would react if he asked him about why the other men did it. It just seemed weird to Sonny; if you were lucky enough to have a wife who loved you, why would you run around with anyone else? He wondered if his father had done that, if all those times he disappeared it was with another woman. The thought made his blood run cold. "Having fun kid?" Joe's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Yes sir," Sonny replied, plastering a smile onto his face. "Watch out," Joe continued, "these guys can get pretty wild this time of year. If they hassle you, let me know." Sonny knew that Joe knew that no one hassled him anymore, but he thanked him anyway. "Thanks. Can...can I ask you a question Mr. Scully?" Joe looked at him, "sure." "Why are all these guys here with women who aren't their wives?" Joe smiled, "you're joking, right?" Sonny shook his head. "Sex Sonnyboy...S-E-X." "But, don't they have sex with their wives?" Joe shrugged, "probably. But most men will have sex with whoever will let them." "But, you don't! Sorry, I shouldn't have said that." "That's really not your business," Joe warned. "Sorry," Sonny repeated; maybe he was wrong. Maybe Joe had a mistress, he was just a lot more discrete about it. "So what about you kid?" Joe asked. "Me?" "Yeah, how come I never see you with a girl? You're not..." Sonny shook his head, "no sir!" "So, what's the story? You know, it's a man's world Sonny. You need to act like a man." Sonny was embarrassed. He was seventeen years old, but living the life of someone older. His days were spent dealing with gangsters, bookies, hookers, pimps, and whatever other riff raff he ran into. But, he was still a virgin, and in a lot of ways, felt very much his young age. Joe was still talking, "you've never had sex, have you?" Sonny looked down and quietly replied, "no." "Excuse me?" Joe snapped, and Sonny immediately looked back up. Joe hated when you didn't look at him when you spoke. Sonny looked him in the eyes with as much dignity as he could muster, "no, I haven't." Joe smiled, "well, now I know what to get you for Christmas Sonnyboy."

Two nights later, Joe sent Sonny on an errand. Actually, he called it a mission. He was to go to a certain hotel, a real one not a fleabag rooming house, and to a certain room. Joe told him to put on his best clothes, which Sonny did, although they weren't that great. When he got to the room, he knocked on the door. His heart raced when he saw who opened it. She was a young prostitute that worked for Joe's organization. Her name was Raquel, and she was Puerto Rican. "Buenos noches," she said, smiling at the sight of the handsome young man. She knew who he was; she's seen him around when he came to collect from her pimp, Rudolfo. "Senorita," Sonny replied. He'd seen her before as well, and thought she was beautiful. She also couldn't have been more than a couple years older than him. "Uh, Mr. Scully sent me," Sonny added, unsure of why he was there. He suspected, but hoped he was wrong. "Come in Sonny," Raquel said, stepping back and letting him into the room. She was wearing a short skirt, and tight sweater and impossibly high heels. Sonny thought it was odd she had no stockings on, since it was wintertime. "I'm not sure why he sent me," Sonny told her. Raquel smiled. Joe had told her personally that she was to take good care of Sonny, and that it was his first time. Raquel was more than happy to do so. All the girls talked about Sonny; they all thought he was very sexy. They could also tell he was going to be someone important. When Joe called Raquel to his office and told her the assignment, she knew Sonny was already important to Joe. "He thought we could get to know each other," Raquel told him. Sonny swallowed; he was so nervous his throat was parched. "Do you have anything to drink?" he asked, looking around. "Si, I have some beer I think," Raquel replied, walking to the mini bar. She pulled out a beer and opened it for Sonny. He took it gratefully, and drank it down. When he finished, she took the empty bottle from him and put it on a table. Then she slowly approached him. "Que guapo," she whispered, letting him know she thought him handsome. "Gracias," Sonny whispered back. Raquel embraced him, and put her mouth onto his. Sonny groaned, put his arms around her, and kissed her. While he had no practical experience with these things, he'd been exposed to quite a bit of "adult entertainment" over the past year, and had paid attention. He kissed her and kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue and plunging it into her eager mouth. Raquel moaned and rubbed her body up against him. He was as hard as a rock; a state he'd been in since she opened the door. Raquel felt his arousal against her and wanting to move things along. She pulled away from him, breathing heavily. In Spanish, she told him to come to the bed. He followed her across the room, where she directed him to sit on the edge. She knelt down between his legs, and Sonny watched with widened eyes as she unzipped his pants. The next thing he knew, he was in her mouth, experiencing a feeling that was beyond words. He'd ejaculated before, many times, alone in his bedroom at the Scully's. But this was something else. He put his hands on her head and ran his fingers through her hair. He heard himself speaking, but it sounded like someone else's voice. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah." Raquel was doing her best to blow his mind; she wanted him to report to the big boss that she gave great head. Sonny exploded with a loud groan, and stars flashed before his eyes. Raquel finally released him, and tucked him back together. "Bueno, no?" she asked. Sonny stared down at her and replied, "come here, I'll show you how good it was." Raquel smiled and stood up. Sonny had her on her back on the bed seconds later.

He began kissing her, slipping his hand under her sweater. He caressed her breast, his fingers running across the nipple, and felt himself getting hard again. Raquel felt it too, "it's good to be young," she joked. Sonny didn't hear, he was too busy removing her clothes. Once he had them off, leaving her only in her high heels, he began stroking between her legs. "Ooooh!" Raquel moaned, arching up to get closer to his hand. "You've done this before," she stated in Spanish, confirming for Sonny that Joe intended him to lose his virginity that night. "No," he replied, continuing his motions. Soon, Raquel was quietly begging him to make love to her. Sonny moved off her to remove his clothes, praying she wouldn't notice the faint scars on his back. He entered her swiftly, and then moved slowly. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper into her. Sonny began whispering in her ear, "you like me, don't you Raquel?" "Oh si Sonny!" "I like you too. You feel so good." "Si Sonny, mas, mas!" She wanted more, and Sonny gave it to her. He began moving faster and harder, and soon Raquel was practically screaming with pleasure. "Te amo Sonny!" Sonny smiled as she told him she loved him. "Did you cum?" he asked her, feeling his own release was imminent. "Oh yes," she purred in his ear. Sonny thrust just a little bit harder and emptied into her with a loud groan. He stayed in her for a few moments, kissing her. Then he rolled off, and lay beside her. She turned and snuggled in against him. "You've done this before," she said again, not believing a virgin could be so good in bed. "I swear I haven't," Sonny replied with a smile, "but I tell you what...I think I like it."

by "mailto:RKteach@en.com"

It was almost dinnertime at the Scully house. Janine was in the kitchen finishing up the meal, Joe was sitting in the living room, reading the paper, and Sonny was reading to little Joan, having set the table for dinner with Joan's "help." "Daddy," Joan said, "why do Sonny have holes in his face?" With that she reached up and put two of her small pudgy fingers into Sonny's dimples. Sonny turned bright red, but Joe broke out laughing. "Those are his dimples, Joanie-balony, and lots of much bigger girls find those holes very attractive." Joe said, putting down his paper and walking over and picking his little girl up from Sonny's lap. "Gee Whiz, kid, even four year old girls go for you." Joe sometimes thought he had created a monster when he set Sonny up to become a man. Women ran after him all the time, and he had more dates than he could handle. He had retained his good manners and between those, his looks, and the power that came from being Scully's boy, he could pretty much have any woman in his daily world.

At the dinner table, Joe made a proud announcement to his extended family, "I just got control of two new businesses upstate. We need to celebrate. Get a sitter for Saturday night, Janine, and plan on wearing your prettiest dress. Hell, get a new one if you want," and then he looked over at Sonny, "You're coming with us, kid, so you have to get some new clothes too. Actually, it's about time you started dressing like a man at least some of the time." Sonny looked at him startled. He had grown over the last year and a half, grown taller and filled out too, and he had replaced jeans with nicer jeans, and school uniform pants with khakis. He'd bought some new shirts and even a couple of sweaters and a new winter jacket, but he hadn't thought about dress clothes, except for that sport jacket he bought earlier this year. "What about my sport jacket, Mr. Scully?" Sonny said. "Not for this, kid, you need a suit, a real suit and a nice dress shirt and shoes that show that you're with me. I'll take you to Maxie, he'll have something in the store that will work for you. He carries beautiful clothes, good brands, great fabrics, and he has a great tailor working there, fast too, at least for me and you. We'll go tomorrow. I'll meet you there at 1:00 sharp." Sonny had been at Friedman's before, in fact he bought his sport jacket there, but he had gone alone, and although the salesman who waited on him, and everyone else in the store probably knew he who he was, no one had treated him as special, with Joe, that would be very different.

After dinner, Joe came knocked on the door of Sonny's room. Sonny said "come in," and then stood up to show respect. "Sonnyboy, the suit is a present. Janine is insisting and when she gets like this I won't fight her, particularly when it only money involved." Joe said, " But I'm not paying for the shirts, and you should buy at least two, and you need probably two ties for it too. Those things you pay for, and the shoes, you need better shoes kid. OK, we straight on this?" "Yes, Mr. Scully. Thank you and I'll thank Mrs. Scully tomorrow." Sonny smiled as Joe left the room, and he sat back down on his bed with his book. Janine was always trying to take care of him as though he was their son, and Joe would fight her where he thought it was important, but he gave in on little things. Joe didn't want to make Sonny too comfortable, as he told Janine, it might take the edge off. Sonny had overheard the two of them squabbling about this issue. He didn't mind though, it was a funny kind of squabbling, because they so obviously loved each other. He also knew that Joe didn't have to worry. His edges were too rough to be taken off with just a little kindness. Joe's respect and treatment had smoothed them out a little, but Sonny wasn't going to go soft anytime soon.

The next day at ten minutes of one Sonny was standing outside Friedman's. He had a complete fear of being late, particularly when meeting Joe so he always tried to be early by at least ten minutes. Joe showed up right on time. He really liked the fact that his kid was always on time. He knew that he showed up early, but he never acknowledged it. The two of them walked in together. Joe ignored the sales people and walked right up to Maxie Friedman, the owner. "Hey Maxie, Sonny, here needs a suit. What can ya fix him up with? It has to be nice. It's his first real suit." "Let's see what we have for him, Joe. Come on over here, and we'll see what he likes."

The three of them went over to some dark suits. Maxie picked out four suits in the size he was sure Sonny would wear just by looking at him, a navy blue suit, a black suit, a charcoal with a very subtle pinstripe, and a brown suit with a wider stripe. "The sports jacket you bought is navy, so there's pluses and minuses for getting a navy suit." Maxie said, "the shirts and ties you pick out would go with both, but people might not realize you have two jackets. It depends on how you look at it." Joe said, "put back the navy, Maxie. Sonnyboy, which two do you like the best. Narrow it down that way, then try them on, and see which one looks the best on you." "I'll try on the black one and the dark gray one, Mr. Friedman," Sonny said, politely. "Call me Maxie," Friedman said, hanging the brown suit back on the rack. He pointed to the dressing rooms across the room, and then took a good look at Sonny. "You should probably pick out a shirt to try on with them Sonny, the one you're wearing won't let us really see which one looks good on you."

Sonny was wearing a striped blue button down cotton shirt that he had bought to go with his sport jacket. It was the best shirt he owned and he had worn it on purpose. Maxie took the two suits over to the dressing room, while Joe took Sonny over to a couple of tables of dress shirts. "No button downs, kid, they aren't dressy enough. They work with a sport jacket, but not with these kind of suits. Look at these, they are pima cotton, and I wear them all the time." But Sonny's eyes and hands had honed in on a midnight blue shirt that had a different look than the ones Joe was handling. It felt soft and smooth to him, and it had a kind of a glow, a rich look.

"What's this one made of, Mr. Scully?" he asked, as his hands continued to stroke the material of the shirt. "Silk, kiddo. You got caviar tastes, but you can probably afford it, you save most of your paycheck anyway. Try it on if you want with the suit. They got it in lots of colors."

Sonny took the shirt and went back to the dressing room. He took off his winter coat and his striped shirt. He had a sleeveless undershirt on, instead of the tee shirt he usually wore, because he had been working out at the gym a lot recently, and the almost new button down shirt was a little tight around his arms. He meticulously unfolded the silk shirt, every touch sent a little spark through him. He put the shirt on, and couldn't believe how good it felt. The smooth, soft material draped around his body. He didn't exactly wear it, it held him, and in his whole life he had never, even in the arms of a woman, felt so embraced.

Sonny stood there, just feeling good, for a few minutes without even looking in the mirror. When he did, he was pleased at how handsome he looked in the deep blue color, and how well the shirt showed his newly developed muscles. Finally, he turned to the hanging suits and began to try them on. Sonny settled on the charcoal gray stripe suit. He almost changed his mind when Maxie made the remark that the vertical stripes made him look taller. Sonny knew quite well that he was not the tallest guy around, but his determination and toughness worked to offset that. He hated being told that his size might need to be compensated for by something like a suit with vertical stripes. He controlled his anger though his eyes flashed and Joe knew what was going on.

"Sonny doesn't need a suit to make him look taller, Maxie, he's got his own rep and he's Scully's Boy, people know not to start with him," Joe said, with a sharp look at the owner and the tailor who was altering the suit. "I didn't mean anything by that," said Maxie. "You know I respect you, Mr. Scully and your young man too. It's just that some people come in here and ask for a suit to make them look taller or thinner or richer, and I always give the same spiel for vertical pinstripes unless the guy is six foot four or something." He knew that he had almost gotten himself in trouble, and he was quickly letting Joe know that he realized it.

After that, there was no more conversation. Sonny chose a black silk shirt, and two ties that went with both of the shirts. He had hated taking off the midnight blue silk shirt, but he knew that insisting on wearing it home was silly. The suit would be ready in two days, right on time for the big celebration dinner. Joe told Janine about the shopping trip and the results at supper that night. "Well, I can't wait to see you in the suit. Bring your new shirts and ties in after dinner so I can see them," she said with her sweet smile. Sonny did as he was told, and Mrs. Scully told him what good taste he had, and how handsome he would look in the clothes he had chosen. Then the Scully's put Joan to bed, and sat down to watch TV in the recreation room.

Janine went up to bed, but Joe went to the kitchen for a midnight snack. He took an extra apple, and then stopped by Sonny's room to ask if he wanted a snack. He was sure the kid was still up, because he could see the light under the door. He knocked and then opened the door, before the boy could even say come in. Sonny sat on his bed, propped up by one of those armrest pillows, which had been a gift from Janine for Christmas. He was reading, which was what he was usually doing in his room, but this time, instead of wearing his pajamas or a tee shirt, he was sitting there wearing the midnight blue silk shirt. The front was unbuttoned and the buttons were also open at the wrists, and Sonny looked like he had been caught in a crime of some sort.

Joe looked at him, and burst out laughing. "Are you going to sleep in that, Sonnyboy?" he choked out between laughs. Sonny blushed, and stammered as he tried to explain, "no sir, it just feels so good, I figured I could wear it for a while until I'm ready to go to sleep. It just feels so good against my skin, ya know?" Joe stopped laughing and smiled, "well, I guess it does, kiddo, but you may be interested in the fact that they make silk pajamas and silk bathrobes, so save your money." He turned to go, and then turned back, "oh yeah, and they also make satin sheets, but don't expect this establishment to provide them." He laughed and left the room, leaving Sonny thinking about his next purchase. Payday was just three days away after all.

by "mailto:RKteach@en.com"

Sonny had lived with the Scully's for almost two years. He was eighteen now, had reached his full size, and was firmly established as a junior member of Scully's organization. Over the years he returned to Bensonhurst only to see his mother, and he didn't do it as often as he would have liked, because of Deke. He could only go if Deke was on duty, so that they wouldn't have a confrontation and upset his mother. He'd found ways to sneak around and try to find out when Deke was on his beat. Sometimes, he'd hide on the roof of Louie's house and watch for Deke to leave. This kind of thing took time, and it took him away from his job. He knew there had to be a better way to do it but he refused to take the obvious route and ask Joe to get him Deke's duty schedule. Joe had done enough for him. This was personal business, and it was his responsibility.

Just recently Sonny had come up with a solution to his problem. Tommy Sullivan, a young Manhattan policeman who was on Joe's payroll, started playing in the card game in the back room of the Broadway Men's Club. Tommy was a nice, friendly young man, whose father had been a second cousin of Joe Scully's. This wasn't all that well known and it was easy for Joe to get Tommy to work as one of his insiders at the local precinct. Tommy wasn't particularly smart, and his card playing was terrible. His luck wasn't much better. Sonny figured if he took him for a lot of money, he could offer it back to him for the information he needed. It seemed to be a sound plan. He just had to wait for the time to be right.

One Friday night at the club, Tommy was losing badly. He still lived at home with his mother and sister, but wanted to save up for a place of his own. That was his major topic of conversation, the apartment he had looked at that day, the one he wanted so badly. Sonny was winning and had personally taken over two hundred-dollars from Tommy. All and all Tommy was down over three hundred bucks, and looking pitifully at the cards he held in his hand. "I fold," he said and he looked like he might cry if it wasn't for the fact that he was 23 years old and a New York City cop playing poker with a bunch of wiseguys, he probably would have. He got up from the table and stood watching as Frankie won the hand. Then he turned to go. As he went out into the night, Sonny stood up, "deal me out of this hand, Frankie," he said, and followed Tommy out into the alley behind the club's service entrance.

"Hey, Tommy," Sonny called out, "wait up a sec." Tommy stopped and waited for Sonny to catch up with him. "Sorry, things didn't go your way, tonight," Sonny said with a sincere tone to his voice. "Well, they sure went your way," Tommy responded sadly. "Will this make a big difference on how soon you can rent that apartment?" Sonny asked innocently. "Yeah, it'll mean I have to wait and save back up the money I need for the deposit and first and last month's rent. And the one I really like will probably be gone by then." "When do you have to let them know for sure?" Sonny said. "They're holding it for me, and I have to let them know by Tuesday." Tommy said sadly, "but I guess I'll call tomorrow and tell them I can't take it." "Well, maybe I can help you out, so you don't have to make that call," Sonny said. "I could let you have the two hundred I won back. Would that give you enough to make the move?" "Yeah, with the money I have in my savings account that'd give me just enough. It would be tough, but I'd just eat at moms for a few extra weeks. That's how I planned to do it anyway," Tommy gave a sad grin. Then he asked the important question; "why would you give me back the money you won off me, Sonny?" "I just want a simple favor. It isn't even really worth two hundred dollars, and Joe could probably do it for free, but I want to do it myself because it is personal," Sonny said looking Tommy in the eye. "And if I do this simple personal favor, assuming I can, and it wouldn't bring me any trouble professionally, you'd give me back the two hundred you won tonight?" Tommy said slowly.

"Hell, Tommy, I won a lot more than your two hundred tonight, and I'll win more next week too. It's no big deal to me, but that's because I'm not out on my own in an apartment yet, but someday I want my own place, so I understand how you feel." Sonny paused, "I'll even give you half tonight, so you feel more confident of having them hold the apartment. Then I'll give you the other half as soon as you get me the information." "What would that information be?" Tommy asked. "I just want the duty schedule for the next month of a cop in Brooklyn, a beat cop, named Timothy Deacon Woods, known as Deke Woods." Sonny said, and he tried to control the hate he felt when he said that name. "You aren't going to off this guy, are you?" said Tommy in a funny voice. "Tommy, he's married to my mother. We don't get along and I just want to know when he's working so I can visit my mother without causing a problem for her." Sonny was proud of the way he could sum this up without showing any of the emotion involved. "Oh gee," said Tommy who loved his mother unabashedly, and had been the man of the house for the last five years since his father died, "of course I'll get it for you. A guy should be able to see his mother anytime he wants, Sonny. I should have it for you by Tuesday afternoon at the latest." "Great, Tommy, and I'll have your other hundred dollars and maybe a bonus if you set it up so that we can do it again next month at the same price." The two young men shook hands there in the alley, and both walked away content. On Tuesday, they shook hands again as a duty schedule and one hundred dollars changed hands.

A few days later, Joe knocked on Sonny's door, and asked if he could come in. "Sure, Mr. Scully, come on in," Sonny said, rising from the bed in his new silk pajamas. "Did your deal with Tommy go alright, kid? Did you get to visit your mom yesterday?" "How, how did you know?" Sonny was stammering in astonishment. "Kid, I know everything about everyone who works for me, and that includes you and Tommy Sullivan. I found out that your stepfather was a cop not long after you came to work for me, and I could have gotten you his schedule at any time, but you never asked me. I figured you wanted to do it yourself, and I'm proud of you for finding a way." Joe smiled in a fatherly way at Sonny, "don't know why it took you so long, but I'm glad you're working with Tommy. He's a good kid too. I've known him all his life, and I like him. The two of you have a lot in common, you're just a lot smarter." Joe turned to go leaving Sonny standing there in shock.

With the duty schedule each month, Sonny could arrange to see his mother more often than in the past. Sometimes when he visited her, he found her with bruises, a black eye, or a sprained wrist. Things in his old household hadn't changed except that he had been taken out of the equation. His mother would give him a story, he would pretend to believe it. He'd take her out, buy her dinner, some flowers, a bracelet, she'd pretend to believe that he had an honest legitimate job. Lots of things went unspoken between mother and son, but that wasn't anything new, lots of things had always gone unspoken between them. Both of them were good at reading between the lines, and ignoring what had to be ignored.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and it was Adella's birthday. Sonny had brought a present for his mother, an expensive watch. It was very feminine and beautiful, like she was, and it would be easy to hide or to pass off as a regular watch when Deke was around. Deke's duty schedule showed that he was due to report in at 4:00 P.M. so Sonny figured he'd arrange to get to Brooklyn at 5:00, give his mother the watch, take her out to dinner and have her home way before Deke got off duty. He'd talked to her about it a week ago, and told her he would only call if there was a problem and he couldn't make it. He'd finished all his work for the day, and told Janine that he wouldn't be in for dinner, then he took off for Bensonhurst. He'd gone back to the Scully's and dressed in his charcoal gray pinstripe suit, his black silk shirt and one of his ties. His shoes were freshly shined, his curls tamed and slicked back, and he looked handsome and polished. Janine looked him over before he left, and told him he looked wonderful. "Your mom will be so proud of her handsome son, and she'll love the beautiful watch you bought her," she said smiling with motherly pride at the boy she sometimes wished was her own.

Sonny took a cab to Brooklyn, and got off in front of the house. He liked coming back to the neighborhood in style, rather than on the subway, because if people were going to talk about him anyway, they might has well have something to talk about. He walked up to the door and knocked, waiting for his mom to answer and see her handsome son. He knocked again and again, but no one answered. He dug out his key from his pocket, and opened the door.

Adella lay crumbled on the kitchen floor, her eyes blacked, her lip split and her face bleeding. When he tried to wake her and moved her slightly, she whimpered even in her unconscious state. "Oh God, Mama, oh God, look what he's done to you this time. I have to kill him, the no good bastard, I have to kill him!" Sonny was crying softly as he touched his unconscious mother's shoulder. He started to pick up her body and hold her, but he realized that if she had internal injuries and she probably did, that it could cause more damage, finally, he realized that he had to seek help. He called 911 and asked for an ambulance.

Sonny rode in the ambulance with his mother. In response to the paramedic's questions, he simply said that he had had a date planned with his mother for her birthday and that when he came in, he found her that way. At the hospital, in a room, with tubes and an IV attached to her, Adella regained consciousness. "Mama, you have to report him, you have to tell them that that bastard Deke did this to you," his voice was cracking with emotion. "Sonny," she croaked out through swollen, bloody lips, almost laughing, "report him to who, the police, they are all his friends, his buddies, they won't believe me. And even if they did, they won't do anything. He's one of them, you know that, and they all take care of their own."

"I'm going to kill him this time, mama, I'm going to kill him." Sonny said the anger palpalable in his voice as he struggled to stay calm. "NO, YOU'RE NOT, Sonny, no you're not. You'll wind up dead or in prison, and where will I be? No son, no husband, all alone, with shame. No, you have to promise me that you won't touch him, won't do anything to him. Promise me, Michael, promise me," she was gasping for breath as she grabbed his hand.

She called him Michael, she never did that, hadn't in years, and he knew that he couldn't disobey her, that he had to make the promise, just as he done so many times before when he wanted Deke dead. "OK, mama, Ok, I won't do anything to him. I promise. Now you just rest." A nurse came in to check on Adella, and then she told Sonny, "a neighbor, Mrs. Cerullo, is out there, she wants to come in and see you and your mother. Is it OK?" "Yes, she can come in," the young man took a moment and a deep breath, "just give me a minute, OK?"

A few minutes later, Gloria Cerullo walked into the room, and put her arms around Sonny. He stood there quietly and let her hold him, but he couldn't seem to raise his arms to hug her back. Even with her arms around him, he felt all alone and helpless. "Sonny, do you need to go, is there somewhere you need to be, because I can stay with her," Gloria asked. "No, Mrs. Cerullo, I'm going to stay right here with her all night, but at some point tomorrow, I'm going to need to go back into the city for a few hours. Could you come by then, maybe at eleven tomorrow morning?" "Sure, if you need me, I'm here tomorrow at eleven. Do you need anything tonight? Coffee, food, anything?" she asked looking at the boy she had known all his life; standing there a man, with the look of a frightened, hurt, and angry little boy on his face; a look she had seen so many times over the years. "Coffee, would be good, thanks," he said quietly, as he sat down on a chair next to his mother. He stayed there all night, holding his mother's hand, only leaving when the nurse or doctor made him leave so they could check on Adella. Over and over he tried to make some sense of the situation, to find a way out of the promise he had made his mother, a way that she would be safe, that this would never happen to her again. His mind whirled, full of turmoil, the anger, the fear, the feeling that neither of them would ever be free. The realization that as long as Deke lived, his mother was trapped, and that as long as she was trapped, no matter how far he ran from Bensonhurst, he would be trapped too.

At eleven the next morning, Gloria Cerullo arrived with a sweet roll and coffee for him, a magazine and some flowers for his mother. It made him remember the watch, still in the pocket of his suit, still wrapped for her birthday, and he wanted to cry. Instead he took out the watch, gave it to Mrs. Cerullo, and said, "when she wakes up, give her this. Tell her it's a birthday present from me. I should be back by two o'clock this afternoon, if you have to leave, please tell a nurse to keep an eye on her. She shouldn't be left alone." "She won't be, Sonny, I'm planning on staying. Mrs. Roseman from down the block is coming over at twelve thirty to give me a little break, and then I'll be right back here with her at one. Don't worry." She smiled at him, but her eyes were sad and worried. "Thank you for the coffee, and for everything, Mrs. Cerullo." "I wish I could do more, Sonny, for both of you, I've always wished I could do more." Her voice was soft with concern and regret. "You've always been great, Mrs. C. Thanks for helping. I'll see you later." His voice seemed clear, steady and calm now. The whirlwind of emotion was hidden behind the walls that he had built over the years. He left the hospital and Brooklyn, heading for the city, for his life there, the life he had built there, the life that had taken him out of the trap his mother's marriage had put them both in. He didn't know what his next step would be, but he knew he had to go there, he had duties and responsibilities there, and he had to explain to Joe why it would be a few days until he could come back to work fulltime. This time he took the subway. His grandiose feelings about himself had vanished along with the clean freshly pressed expensive clothes he had started out in. They were wrinkled and blood stained now, and he had dark circles and a five o'clock shadow. His face was full of sadness, anger, and pain, no matter how hard he tried to appear normal, and he knew that Joe Scully would know immediately that something was wrong. Now all he had to decide was what and how much to tell him.

by "mailto:scullysboy@yahoo.com"

Deke Woods hated the feeling that he was hiding out; but that was exactly what he was doing. This time, he had gone too far. Adella had gone to the hospital with injuries before, but this time, she was taken there unconscious, beaten to the extent that her beautiful face was unrecognizable. He actually felt badly about it, but only because he knew that other people would probably suspect him. For that reason, he didn't go to the hospital to check up on her, but sent Marcus Taggart, a new Brookyn PD recruit whom he was training. Deke didn't want to face his wife, not yet, and he definitely didn't want to face her son, whom he hated more than anyone on the planet. He'd inflicted his share of damage on the kid too over the years, but now Sonny was making it out on his own. Deke didn't want to see him, knowing he hadn't totally broken Sonny down. Deke looked up from his desk at Noon to see Taggart returning. "Did you see her?" Taggart nodded, "yeah. Man, it's bad. I can't believe a kid could do that to his own mother!" Deke nodded his head in agreement. It was a stroke of genius he'd had to tell Marcus that it was Sonny that abused Adella. "I still don't understand why you don't arrest the bastard," Taggart added. "I told you, his mother doesn't want him arrested. In spite of everything, she loves that kid." "Well, she's going to be in the hospital for a few more days, they said," Taggart told him, "so you can see her sometime without running into Corinthos." "Yeah, I think that's best; I wouldn't want to get into anything with him in front of her. It would upset her too much. Well, let's roll kid." Deke stood up and walked around his desk, and the two cops left the station house.

Back at the Broadway Men's Club, everyone was wondering where Sonny was. He never neglected his duties, but no one had seen him. Concerned, Joe called home. "Janine, have you seen Sonny today?" "No I haven't. I don't think he slept here last night Joe," she responded. Joe hung up with her, walked out of his office and addressed the few men that had congregated in the club. "Get out there and look for Sonny. Something's definitely wrong." The men all got up to leave, when the door opened and Sonny entered. "There you are!" Joe exclaimed. He looked Sonny over; he looked like hell. There was blood on his shirt, stubble on his face, and red in his eyes. "What the hell happened to you? Where were you all night?" Sonny walked over to him and spoke quietly, "can I speak to you, in private?" "Sure kid," Joe replied, leading him into the office and closing the door. "So, where were you?" "The hospital." "Why?" "It's...it's my mother," Sonny answered, in a voice so low Joe had to strain to hear. "Your mother? What happened to her?" Sonny felt himself starting to cry, and covered his face with his hands. Joe tried to console him, "hey kid...come on...whatever it is, you can tell me. I'll take care of it." He reached out his arm and put it around Sonny's shoulders. Sonny removed his hands from his face and tried to wipe it dry. "You can tell me," Joe urged. Sonny looked him in the eyes, "I have to tell you. I have to tell someone."

Joe sat quietly, hiding the rage that was boiling inside of him. It all made sense now; why Sonny was out on the streets at age 16; why he had to sneak home to visit his mother; why he was a very careful, shielded, and angry young man. Now, Joe knew that he was no paragon as a husband. He was controlling and domineering at times, and had cheated on his wife more often than he wanted to think about. But, he never laid a hand on her, and couldn't even imagine doing so. And as for what Deke had done to Sonny all those years...well that just made Joe sick. He looked at Sonny, who was waiting nervously for Joe's reaction. He had torn himself open and laid all his demons bare, and now he waited for his pain to be acknowledged. Joe gave him a sad smile. "I'm glad you told me kid; very glad. You don't have to worry about a thing...not anymore." Sonny wasn't sure what he meant, but was so relieved that he didn't ask. For some reason, he believed what Joe was saying; that it was going to be OK.

"Boss, let me do this for you," Vince pleaded. Joe shook his head, "no. You're coming with me, but I need to do this." "Well, everything's set," Vince told him, "just like you asked." The two men got into Vince's car; Joe's was too flashy and noticeable, and Vince drove it off heading towards Brooklyn. On Joe's orders, Vince had arranged for Officer Deke Woods to be in an alley beside a nightclub when he went off duty. The club was owned by a lady friend of Joe's, who wasn't in the mob, but was obviously connected. Joe told her to go out of town for a couple of days so that she wouldn't be a party to what went down. And Joe knew that Sonny was at his friend Louis Cerullo's birthday party in Bensonhurst, so he'd have a firm alibi. Deke arrived and went to a dumpster in the alley. The anonymous informant had told him he'd find information there regarding a string of burglaries in Bensonhurst. Deke opened the dumpster and retrieved the plastic pouch. He started to open it, when he heard a noise and whipped around. A tall, thin man stood before him. "What do you want?" Deke snapped. "Your gun for starters," a voice from behind told him. He felt a gun pressed to the back of his head and the man who had come up behind him quickly retrieved Deke's gun from his holster. The man in front of him continued to stare. "What is this?" Deke yelled; "I'm a cop damn it!" Joe finally spoke, "I know who you are, and I know what you are." As he spoke, he took out his own gun and screwed on a silencer. He stepped closer to Deke. "You're a pig, and I don't just mean a cop. You're a coward passing for a man." Deke was getting nervous, "I don't even know you, what's this about?" "No, you don't know me, but you don't have to. All you need to know is that I'm the man who's making sure you get what you deserve." Vince swiftly kicked Deke in the back of the legs, causing him to fall to his knees. As he tried to stand, Joe put the gun to his forehead and pulled the trigger. Deke slumped over to the ground. Joe then fired one more shot into Deke's heart. Now, when the body was found, everyone would know that Deke Woods was a man with no honor; he'd been marked as a dirty cop. Joe looked at Vince, "take the pouch, and let's go." Vince bent down and retrieved the pouch. Joe looked down at Deke, and spat. "That's for Sonny, you piece of shit." The two men left the alley, got back into the car, and drove off.

When Sonny went to visit his mother in the hospital the following morning, she told him the news. "My husband is dead." Sonny's eyes grew wide, but he said nothing. Inside, he was shouting for joy. "How?" he finally asked. "He was shot," Adella quietly replied; "he died in the line of duty." Sonny instinctively knew that wasn't true. He knew Joe Scully had killed Deke Woods, and he had done it to protect Sonny and his mother. The magnitude of the debt he owed Joe equaled his elation at being free of that monster. And he knew, he would carry both with him, forever.