We went down a hidden set of stairs inside the warehouse and instead of going into the drug labs, we turned and went into a side room which was dark and cold. It took my eyes a couple of seconds to adjust to the single, wavering bulb that faintly illuminated the room. I tensed my shoulders when I saw my uncle slumped in near the back of the room. Two other men stood aside when they saw us enter. They nodded at Trout and then at my father, who addressed then with a stone like face. I assumed were Trout’s top men, who my father was familiar with, and who had also been the ones who’d beaten my uncle to a pulp.

“Duke,” Uncle Jordan said to my father as he struggled to get to his feet.

It took him a good minute for him to stand up and even then, he was leaning heavily to one side.

“Jordan,” my father spoke as if he were bored. “I’m tired of this, I really am. Today we’re going to make things quick.”

Uncle Jordan caught my eyes and widened them, “You brought Phoenix to see this?”

“He needs to start off somewhere,” my father shrugged. “What more than seeing his own flesh and blood slaughtered.”

I shuddered involuntarily and Curly glanced down at me in concern. I could tell he didn’t approve of me being there either, but there was no way he could challenge my father.

“Please,” my Uncle pleaded. “I’m your brother.”

“Who thought that he could steal from me and get away with it,” my father replied with a tight jaw. “You never once acted like a brother, Jordan.”

“Give me another chance,” my uncle didn’t even try to deny the accusation, he must have seen the finality in my father’s eyes. “Please Dennis. Think about mother, she would have been torn to pieces to hear that her son killed his younger brother.”

“Good thing she’s already dead,” father smirked.

He reached into his pocket and drew out a black gun. I knew the name of it, but couldn’t remember at that current moment. My head was pounding and I was shaking. My father was only trying to scare Uncle Jordan, wasn’t he? He couldn’t actually kill his little brother…

“Dad,” I whispered when he held out the gun and aimed.

Uncle Jordan sighed when he saw it and stopped trying to beg. Maybe it was for my sake, he didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

“Be a good boy, Phoenix,” Uncle Jordan looked at me though his bruised eyes. “Don’t be like your father.”

I barely had time to breathe before there was a shattering bang and my uncle’s head was blown apart. I fell to my hands and knees, blood draining from my face and my heart pounding so hard it felt like it was breaking its way out of my chest. I could faintly hear my father muttering something about how my uncle shouldn’t have been so rude. Before I could stop it, my breakfast came back up and I threw up violently, coughing up every last content in my stomach.

“Come on, Phoenix,” I heard Curly say to me. “Let’s get you out of here.”

He took hold of one of my arms and pulled me to my feet. I didn’t even notice I was crying until my vision became so obscured by the salty tears, that I couldn’t see straight. I glanced at the bloody mess that used to be my uncle and my father ordered Trout’s men (and therefore his men) to ‘clean it up’ before he put his gun away and proceeded to leave.

Curly had to help me walk back to the car and I sat down in the passenger’s seat, weak and short of breath. I would never be able to get the images out of my head. I retched again, but nothing came up.

“Dad…why?” I asked him when he got into the driver’s side.

“I told you why already,” he muttered, starting up the car.

“But he was your brother,” my voice shook as I tried not to show weakness in front of him. He hated that from me.

My father looked at me with his dark eyes, “Its business.”