Joe Mcreedy Novels & Stories

MacJoe was talking to hinself Inside his bedroom without anybody around him, Few hours later, MacJoe called Leo, “hi guy” Leo responded, “how are you today?“ he asked, “I am very happy, and excited” Macjoe retorted, “what made you happy and excited?“ Leo asked, “what I have been battling for more than a decade, I finally overcome, and my mission to stay away from illicit has been accomplished, am now a new being” MacJoe retorted, “that Is a great news” Leo said, “and how Is your have doing, have you started getting along?“ Leo asked,

Obviously, he didn't like Lisa, and I could not blame him. "Who is Joey?" I asked. "Joey McBride. The guy that owns the Joe's Car wash," he said, and I was stunned. "Fat Joey?" I said, and he began to laugh because that was what we called the guy. "He has lost a lot of weight now. With muscles and all and the carwash business is doing good. He has money now," Mike told me, and I was happy about this news.

I looked up to see a lean man with blonde hair and bright eyes raising his hands in surrender. Ricco, Nicco, and Maximo shielded me with their bodies. “Viola, it’s me, Carlo Mancuso!” He yelled loud enough to see him. I finally recognized him when he said his name. “Ricco, let him through. He’s my friend.” My three bodyguards obliged and Carlo walked to me. He was the nephew to Stefano Mancuso, the leader of one of the four mafia families in Italy. He and I were not friends. I’d only uttered those words to ensure Ricco would let him through. I’d gone to boarding school with him when I was in high school—before I transferred to an all-girls boarding school.

~~18 years old~~ Trevor alighted from the old beat-up truck he often drove and sprinted inside the clinic. He halted by the reception desk and puffed out a breath whilst holding his side. The blonde sitting in the tiny cubicle tilted her slender brows as she stared at him. "I am Trevor Williamson. My mom is here." The receptionist, whose name on her badge reads Charity nodded. She fixed the glasses she had slid down her nose to assess the boy who looked to be in his late teenage years back to her face.

She asked. MJ gritted her teeth in annoyance. "The file." She said sternly, giving nothing away. Anita sighed and gave her the file before returning to her seat. MJ paged through the file and slid it across the table once done. Anita frowned as she picked it up, opening it to the first page. "McEnroe Construction Company…" MJ said while taking her seat. "An Irish construction company, the owner, Aaron McEnroe, recently retired and passed on the company to his 21-year-old son, Aaron McEnroe Jr." She stated begrudgingly.

Mike Freeway wasn't the only man in Coal City with a nose for fast money. Joe Collins—just as well recognized in the back room's smoky atmosphere as J. Cole—had a gift for smelling opportunity where other men smelled gunpowder. Tall, dark, and patient, Cole lived on very little. His greasy black hair clung to his skull, his pencil-line moustache curled into a snarl, and his chin, shadowed blue from the previous night's shaving, was rarely tobacco-stained.

“Hell, I wish! Don’t think I haven’t tried. To this day, I swear Joe knows something. I never could get it out of him, though.” “Why would he be mixed up with Marty?” Jackie asked. “Hell, if Marty knows I sell moonshine you can bet your sweet ass he knows Joe sells drugs on the side.” “Joe sells drugs,” the sisters said in unison. “Yeah, weed mostly. I’ve bought product off him. I don’t know who his supplier is, but it’s good stuff. How’d you girls think he’s been able to keep the diner open during the recession?” “We just thought he had deeper pockets than us,” Jodi stated.

“No. Not at all.” “What the hell?” Joe blurted out, his brows rapidly furrowing. “He’s a combat instructor for the Insurgent Trifecta! Of all the damned times he could have chosen—he chose now to go MIA?! God, the Ambrosia Fruit is about to ripen. What kind of irresponsible dimwit would think to ghost his people at a time like this?!”

Immediately, Joe turns his head in surprise. "Good morning, sir.", Alice greets and then asks with a quizzical look on her face, "How come you're here so early?" Joe sighs and replies veraciously, with an innocent but serious face on, "..Good morning, Alice." Then he stands erect and stretches to remove his shirt from the hanger "I'm.. in the planning committee of next week's end of year celebration. Both the dinner, the game and the camping trip.. And considering the number of pending cases left, I've got to put in some extra time if I'm gonna get them closed by January."