Bring It On Home To Me
{I highly recommend reading 1965 before this. It will save a whole lot of confusion, and a whole lot of explaining. Thank you.}1968. New Bordeaux, Louisiana. After the events of Vietnam, Sofia and her newlywedded husband, John Donovan, head on down to the south, where their best friend, Lincoln Clay, is in need of help. The help? To avenge his family's death. And the person he's preying after is no one else than the mobster who rules the city himself; Salvatore Marcano, and his grubby son, Giorgi. "You remember those sleepless nights in Vietnam, Sofia? Where we would just stare up in the starry sky, and wonder "why are we were still here?", "Why are we even doing this?" I remember lying on my back, imagining the day I came back home to them, walking through my old man's bar, and being swallowed by his, and my brother's warm embrace." The African-American paused. Tears clouded up in his eyes, and it was the first time I could see grief wash over his face. "And now I'm all alone again. I'm right back at where I started. I'm right back at square one. I got no one." My words could barely make it past my lips. My soft pair of lips trembled out of pity, and of worry for my best friend. I shook my head in negligence at his claim. "You're wrong. You got us," I grabbed his calloused hands, which were twice the size of mine. "We're a family too."…
