How I managed to survive making it through that heat was not an answer that I could find. I just leaned back into the chair with my head behind the steering wheel and foot slammed down on the gas. It wasn't like I was driving an armored vehicle either, this was just some postman's truck that I picked off the road. There was no time to think about what was happening so I looked up immediately to make sure I wasn't driving into any other traffic. Right when I sped over the bridge, the kegs in the back tipped over and I was losing all of my whiskey. I had to get at least 3 barrels full to the O'Hara's. I was not about to let them be disappointed again because the last time I lost all of their liquor, they nearly went after my whole family. That was the thing in the Mafia, they wouldn't go after you because they knew you got them their drinks, they thought that killing all of your family would put you in place to make sure you always obey them.

The longer I sped away, the quieter the sirens seemed to be. I was getting closer to the O'Hara's and I couldn't stop to check how much liquor I had left. It was close to the point where I could feel the liquor swishing around in the soles of my shoes. The car wreaked of alcohol. I was getting light headed off of the smell of it now. Now, I couldn't hear the sirens anymore. I pulled up to one of the harbors in the city where no body was going. I rolled out of my seat to check the back of the van. All of the holes were no longer leaking and the barrels were about a third full each. With the five barrels I had, that wouldn't be enough for my limit. I started panicking and kicked the back doors of the van open. I knew once the O'Hara's found out, someone in my family would be dead within a week. With them all the way back in Venice, there's no way I could warn them either. At that point, the smell started getting to me, I started puking all over the ground. I was crying at the same time too. The people I loved were in danger and it was all because of me.

I could have moved to America to become a business owner, a butcher, or even a musician. But, I let myself take what I thought would make me the most money. I wasn't concerned about my family at the time. I just wanted to get rich. I was so selfish.

I stumbled back up to get the barrels out of the van. One by one I carried them out and was disappointed as they felt lighter and lighter. I sat down next to the last barrel and prayed for the safety of my family. I could have pulled out my handgun as soon as Mr. O'Hara and popped in a cap in his skull, but that wouldn't change anything. My family would still be dead, maybe even more than the amount of people they would have originally taken out.

I figured the longer I sat here, I was digging my own grave. I put the van in neutral and rolled it off the edge of the dock. It wasn't like any Boston Tea Party, nothing fancy about it. I just had to hide any evidence. Then, I heard the asphalt grinding behind me. The car parked and I turned to see the license plate of Mr. O'Hara.