Married to Porn Pt. 03

The text msg that said that came from the burner phone of Tony Fishtank as he lamented the Laker loss from a night before to the currently West Coast swinging Boston Celtics.

He didn't get down on the Celtic/Clippers matchup going on tonight though. He had only recently contacted the mobster to see if he "all was forgiven" and if he could place a bet every now and again.

He didn't want to go overboard though. Maybe between the two gamblers anonymous meetings he attended as well as the "every now and then" betting schedule, he'd be able to keep Diane from going ballistic by showing that he was controlling his gambling and not the other way around.

Plus, he had just won thirty grand...

He'd go by later and pick it up...

Beverly Hills country club

Two childhood friends hit the links for 18 holes today. 64 year old Salvatore "Caz" Cazale head of Cazale Studios and 67 year old Alphonse "Alley Boy" Carbone, chief financial backer for most of Cazale's adult film productions as well as being the president of the Malibu Exotic Car Rental Company, but last and certainly not least, was his role as boss of the Los Angeles La Cosa Nostra borgota.

"What's with you today Alley Boy?" Caz asked. We have beautiful weather, we're hitting the balls straight, a lot of skimpy dressed blondes to ogle, and our last two movies with Damon Hartsfield were big fucking successes. So why the hell do you look like you just got a stage four cancer diagnosis?"

The aging mafia chieftain sighed and took a sip of water. "Heavy is the head, my friend. Heavy is the head that has to nursemaid a bunch of fucking morons that don't listen."

"What's going on? As if you don't know Caz."

"No. I really don't."

"Your boy...Damon Hartsfield. I cancelled 75k of debt for him. And what does he do? He turns around and jams it up my ass for 30 large after I gave orders to cut him off."

"Jesus Christ! Fuck me! Fucking Damon." Caz expressed.

"Yeah, "fucking Damon". Caz, give me one good reason why I shouldn't either reinstate the debt and call it all due immediately, or just take him out back and whack him personally?"

"Come one Alley Boy...the kid has a gambling problem...what do you want from people?"

"To keep their fucking word that's what I want from people."

"Alphonse...how much did this kid bring in off of those two last movies alone? We're talking millions in profit here."

"You gonna get cute with me now old friend? You know as well as I do that one has dick to do with the other."

"One thing that you can't deny. He can't gamble on your book without help." Caz tells him.

"Tony fucking Fishtank."

"One in the same...so, does he just skate by after so openly defying you?"

"Shut the fuck up about Fishtank Caz. That's a made guy that you're bringing a beef against. A captain and one of my best earners."

"I'm not saying that you ought to clip him. Maybe just break him down in rank or something. Teach him a lesson.

"I don't break captains down; I kill them. That act teaches the lesson to those that are still breathing."

"Well I think that..."but before he can finish the thought, Salvatore Cazale falls onto the grass while clutching his heart.

"Jesus Christ! Caz! Caz!" Alleyboy yells. "Somebody call a fucking ambulance! Does anyone know CPR?"

"I'm a doctor, please...allow me to take a look." Another man on the golf course says to the panicked mafioso.

"Come on Caz, don't you fucking do this to me now." Alley boy says under his breath.

After a few tense seconds...

"I have a pulse! I have a pulse!"

"The paramedics are here." Another onlooker added.

Once Caz was loaded into the ambulance, Alley boy was given the option to ride inside with him and he accepted.

As they rode to the nearest hospital, a very weak Caz spoke.

"Alley?"

"You old stonewaller you! You always pull something like this when I'm winning." The mafia boss joked as he held the hand of his oldest friend.

"Come...closer..."

Alley Boy bends down so that Caz can speak into his ear.

"Promise me that you won't hurt Damon." Caz requested, barely above a whisper.

"Caz I..."

"Promise me!"

"Alright you old bastard. He's in the clear." He said to Caz as he wiped a tear from his eye.

"Don't you cry Alley...I'm not...I'm not going....anywhere."

"You damn well better not. Because if you die on me, I'll whack you out." Alley joked.

Chapter 8 Things really go to shit

"911...what's your name and emergency?"

"Uh...I'd like to report a murder."

"Are you sure that the victim is deceased?"

"He has a gaping hole where the back of his head used to be and he's laid out in his living room."

"Hold please..."

"This is LAPD, I understand that you're reporting a dead body?"

"That's correct."

"Your name is..."

"Not information that I'm willing to share. I'm reporting this anonymously."

"Is there a certain reason why you don't desire to be identified?"

"A very good reason. The victim is a gangster and I'd rather not have to testify in court to a mob hit."

"Did you witness this murder?"

"I'm done answering questions! The dead guy is Tony Fishtank. I'm sure that you know where he lives so send someone...or don't, I honestly don't give a fuck."

"But sir we..."

Click.

Damon Hartsfield takes the burner phone that he had just purchased from CVS for the express purpose of calling 9-11 and hands it to a passing homeless person.

He had already thrown up once and he could feel himself about to lose it a second time.

Dead people on tv sure do look and smell differently than they do in person.

Who could've possibly killed a mob heavyweight like Tony Fishtank?

And why the hell did they kill him prior to him collecting his 30 grand in winnings?

Jesus! What had he become? A man lying face down in a pool of his own blood and brains and Damon being pissed that he didn't get paid on an illegal sports bet that he shouldn't have even made.

Maybe this was why he belonged in Gamblers Anonymous?

He did call 9-11...shouldn't that count for something?

He sat stoically at a nearby city bus stop and watched as approaching sirens got louder as 6 police cars and an ambulance sped by.

An ambulance...I guess they couldn't take his word for it.

Why did he go in? The door was ajar, the place seemed abandoned and given that it belonged to a sadistic motherfucker like Fishtank, why didn't he think that entering just to "look around" was a good idea?

I'll bet that city brass wouldn't be able to make heads or tales of this one. After all, this was L.A not New York. Mob rubouts were extremely rare in this state.

The last hi-profile mobster to buy it here was Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel back in 1947.

A gang war between the Bloods and Crips factions, LAPD was all over that.

Warring biker groups mixing it up on a California highway or casino, LAPD was all over that.

A notorious mafia capo being murdered in his own home... not so much...

The entire city would be bracing for the retaliation...La Cosa Nostra style.

One thing that Damon knew as he nonchalantly eft the area and headed back to his Bamboo Comics office was that he'd hate to be the poor soul, if this turns out to be what it looks like, an unsanctioned hit, that's on the other side of Alphonse Carbone's wrath.

Back in North Hollywood...

"I really wish you'd allow me to take you to the emergency room. That's a nasty cut you have there." Dr. Carol Summers-Randolph said to her new husband Leonard "Steamboat" Randolph in regard to a gaping wound on his right arm.

"It looks worse than it hurts." He tells his wife with a smile. Besides, I'm enjoying the company." He said as referred to his sister Justine whom he hadn't seen in over three decades but came by for a mini family reunion at the behest of her new sister-in-law while he was out paying a "visit" to Tony Fishtank.

"That is a rather nasty cut big bro. How'd you manage to acquire that one?" Justine asked with just a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"Some old guy was trying to load a piece of scarp iron onto his truck and I stopped to help him with it but just as we almost got it into the pickup bed, the load shifted and sliced my arm up."

"My God Leonard...you probably need a tetanus shot." Justine declared.

"No...he's had all of his shots. I over saw that personally." Carol said to Justine.

Carol poured herself another vat of Vodka and once again offered it to all adults in the room. Leonard and big Audrey declined, but Justine refreshed her cup.

"You don't drink my dear?" Justine asked Audrey.

"Oh I can't drink in my condition Aunt Justine."

"Your condition? Are you saying that you're pregnant?" Carol asked her niece.

"Yes I am!" She said excitedly.

"My goodness. Congratulations! So tell me, who's the lucky guy?"

"I wish I could tell you Aunt Carol, but I'd best keep it a secret for now."

"Ooo, scandalous." Justine says as she mock fans herself. "He must be married."

"He is." She says with a school girl giggle. "He's also African American."

The still street savvy Leonard takes the context clues given and quickly deduced the most likely paternal candidate. "She does porn, Damon does porn. They recently did a movie together and from what he heard, there was a creampie scene.

Damon is also married and is of course, African American.

His "niece-in-law was pregnant for his son.

At least that was the most probable answer.

He opted to allow her to keep her secrets for now. Lord knows that he now had secrets of his own.

Hadn't been home a week and he was already facing a potential murder rap along with possible retaliation from the mob.

Justine had also deduced the same thing as did her brother. She too chose to remain silent about her theory about the nephew she had never met being the father of this porn stars baby.

She'd also keep the secret of Diane and Dionne McGrady being Leonard's two daughters from him...for now.

Chapter 9 Confessions

"Just so that we are all on the same page. Devonte' you visited South Central where you met a woman named Justine Randolph who turned out to be your long lost aunt and she confessed to you that in addition to your brother Damon, whom you knew, you also had two female siblings by the names of Diane and Dionne McGrady whom you also knew but you knew one of them as Diane Hartsfield who turned out to be your sister-in-law.

How am I doing so far?"

"Diane..." Dionne tried to say.

"Shut the fuck up please Dionne. I'll get to you in a second." She continues.

"So, upon learning this information, you opted to keep it to yourself and not rock the boat, but it was a secret that was tearing you apart, so you decided to have someone else share that burden with you.

So far so good?"

Devonte' nods his assent.

But by that time you had fallen in love with Dionne and well, familial bonds be damned right?"

"That's not how it happened Diane. You can't just turn love on and off like that.

There's a very good reason why Damon isn't here right now and hearing everything you're saying. You're seriously considering not telling him aren't you?" Dionne tells her sister.

"Thanks to your shenanigans I don't know what I should do.

Ok so you find out the truth, and then you share a passionate "sibling French kiss" directly in front of the people who had just revealed that truth to you with verifiable evidence.

And then you walk hand in hand down the block until you arrive at the most expensive hotel in LA to engage in hot sibling lovemaking.

And now I either keep this secret from my own husband and pay an extortionist 20 grand and hope she doesn't come back for more later or tell him and risk losing him should he choose to divorce me.

My god! What I wouldn't give to go back to a week ago when the biggest thing that I was pondering was breaking my marriage vows to go behind Damon's back and fuck Jack Martin.

And now I'm wondering if I'm even sure of my children's true paternity."

"Uh, Sis? Regarding what you just said..." Dionne explained as she came clean with everything.

"So you met him at the Wilshire; you must be really fond of that hotel by the way. You met him at the Wilshire in a raincoat and heels, while you pretended to be me. All of this after I told you not to get involved, I might add.

He fucked you silly."

"Diane."

"You kissed him which was something I don't do."

"Diane!"

"He asked you an easily fact checked set up question."

"Diane!"

"Shot his load directly into your face, made you come clean about who you really were. He threw your "clothes" out of the window and told you to let me know that I still owed him an actual fuck if I want to keep Damon out of jail."

"Diane will you please shut the fuck up?" Dionne finally finishes.

"Go ahead and speak."

"We have his DNA."

"Whose DNA? Jack's?"

"Yeah. We were thinking like you are right now. About the possibility that Damon may not be the father of the boys." Devonte' said to her as he explained why he thought that Martin could be the father.

"Oh my God! Devonte'. This couldn't have been easy on you knowing what Dionne was doing with Jack. Given how you feel about her.

I just want to say thank you."

"You're thanking him? Heifer I did the lion share of the heavy lifting." Dionne said to her sister. "Devonte' wasn't the one who took the cum bath."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the three of them laughed.

"Can't make this up. Life for me is getting ready to change in ways I've never even contemplated and I'm sitting here laughing." Diane noted.

"I think that we might have to do a lot of laughing in coming times, just to keep from crying." Dionne added.

Suddenly Diane's phone rings with a call from Cassandra "Tracee Fountains" Banks.

"Hi Cass, what's..."

.........

"No! When?"

..........

"Is he?"

..........

"Ok, I'm on my way. Keep praying." She said as she clicked off.

"Diane? What's happening?" Dionne asked.

"I need to get to Cedar Sinai Los Angeles. Caz had a massive heart attack on a golf course." Diane said as she ran frantically to the kitchen and retrieved a small zip lock bag from the pantry and put it into her jeans pocket.

"Come on, I'll drive you." Devonte' said. "We can all go."

"No. I can't ask you to do that."

"How are you going to stop us sis? You face something and we face it also. We are family Diane, and as Tony Soprano once said, "even in this fucked up day and age, that still means something."

"Thank you sis. I really mean it.Ok. Let's roll, I'll call Barbara next door and have her look after the boys until we get back."

"Are you going to call Damon?" Devonte' asked.

"Yes. He'll want to know. Caz is like a father to him. Definitely more of a father to him than our own father has been to any of us."

They reach the hospital and Damon met them there. The waiting room reads like a "who's who" in adult films. Porn actors, both veteran and current await news on Caz's condition.

As Damon and family approach the packed hallway, it parts like Moses and the Red Sea. Wally Wally greets them at the door.

"He was waiting for both of you to arrive." Wally Wally says somberly.

"How is he Wally?" Damon asked.

"Not good Damon. Not good at all."

"This is fucking unreal. This entire day has been completely unreal."

Diane doesn't appear to take notice of the "this entire day" remark, and instead takes her husband by the hand and asks...

"Are you ready to go see pop?" She asked lovingly.

"Yes baby. Let's go see him." Damon said as he fought back tears.

"Be strong my love. Be strong for him. Be strong for me." She whispered to her husband. "Be strong for us."

They walked into the private room and there lay Salvatore Cazale, a shadow of the man that had given both of them their starts in the industry.

Most of the life saving machines in the room had been turned off. Caz had a long-standing "do not resuscitate" order in place; all efforts now being deployed were there just to keep him comfortable.

"I'm sorry, only one visitor at a time." The attending nurse said as she noticed Damon and Diane.

"Nurse please...one visitor, or ten visitors, I'm still going into the ground very soon." Caz eked out.

"Very well." She said as she grabbed her clipboard. "I need to go monitor some other patients. Hit this button if need be." She said as she handed the buzzer for the nurses station to Diane.

After the three were alone, Caz began to ask a few questions.

"Did you...did you see Jack outside?"

Both husband and wife looked at each other as if searching for the answer.

"No. We didn't see him."

"Well...coughs...well..hack coughs...I got him to agree to not press charges against you."

A stunned Damon didn't even think that charges were still on the table. And really didn't know what to say...

However, Diane knew that they were, and she heartedly thanked her former employer.

"Thank you, Caz, this means more to us than you know." She told him. Diane next grabbed a napkin, wiped the corner of his mouth and deposited the used napkin into a zip lock bag.

"How did you get him to drop the charges? " Damon asked.

"Would you believe that I gave him an offer he couldn't refuse?"

Damon chuckled, "no".

Caz tried to laugh but Diane put her hand on his shoulder in order to keep him from overly exciting himself.

Damon moved closer to Caz to hear his real explanation.

"Do you know how no Sicilian can refuse a request on his daughter's wedding day?"

"Yes."

"Well....no one can refuse the request of a Sicilian on his death bed."

"Caz I..."

"You don't have to say anything son...I'm sorry... I meant to say Damon."

"No Caz...that's just it. Do you remember when I told you that I needed a father when I was 10 but I didn't need one now?"

"I...do."

"I...I didn't realize when I said that I didn't need a father, that you were the reason that I didn't need one."

"Damon..."

"Because you are my true father Caz. The only father I've ever known.

You always have been."

Caz tries again to speak but coughed up blood instead. Diane once again wiped his face clear of his bodily fluid and placed the napkin in the zip lock bag along with the previously soiled one.

Damon takes Caz's hand. Even in this condition, Caz's hand completely covers Damon's. But far from the strong sure handshake of times past, his hand is cold, clammy, weak.

"Whatever happens...my children...always...face it...together." And with those words, the heart monitor flatlines and the self-styled "king of smut" is no more.

The charge nurse made her way into the room, made the sign of the cross, shut off the monitor, closed Caz's eyes and started to cover him up, but thought to ask if he had any family that may be on their way here.

"Everyone who loved Mr. Cazale, as well as those he loved, are currently in that hallway." Diane informed her. "If he had other family, we are unaware of them."

The two walk back into the hallway. One of the cardiologists had already delivered the news to everyone.

Reactions ranged from weeping to bawling. On some, were faces of fear of the unknown. A career in porn didn't prepare you for much outside of it unless you were lucky enough to become a YouTube celeb or influencer and regale your subscribers with "story time" as you relate your experiences in the business.

With Caz gone, some of these actors and support personnel didn't know where their next paycheck would come from. What would become of Cazale Productions?

"Damon Hartsfield?" A tall Hispanic man in blazer and slacks had pushed through the throng of mourners, who himself was accompanied by a similarly dressed man which looked to be of Italian descent.

"Yes? I'm Damon Hartsfield."

"I'm Detective Hernandez, and this is Detective Barbosa. We'd like a few minutes of your time to ask you a few questions."