by J. J. McAvoy
“Mel, I’m serious, you don’t have to say it back now. I can wait.” I tried to lift her chin, but she ripped her head from my hand.
“Mel . . .”
“I’m not good at love,” she whispered.
“I know, that’s why I was waiting.” I rubbed her thighs, not for anything sexual, but so she could feel me and know I was here holding her.
She ran her hand through her hair and sighed. “I’ve been working on it.”
“I know that, too.” I’ve watched as she peeled back layers of herself for me to see day by day.
Rising from my lap, she walked over to the window, and I missed her warmth.
“I’ve always been the strong one, Liam. I’m good at being the strong one. I don’t want anyone to ever see me as weak or—”
“There is not a person alive who truly knows you that doesn’t fear you or think you’re weak,” I whispered, stepping behind her. “What is wrong with you?”
“What if I was pregnant?” She turned to me quickly. “No one sees a pregnant woman and thinks, ‘holy shit, this woman could kill me with her bare hands.’ All they see is this . . . this incubator who stuffs her face and waddles like a penguin.”
I laughed. “I would say like a duck, but a penguin works.”
She hit my arm hard, and I laughed some more. She always made me truly laugh.
“Sweetheart, we still have a while before you’re waddling like anything.”
“Yeah, a little under seven months.” She frowned, lifting up her shirt for me to see a tiny bump that was almost unnoticeable. I had seen her naked so many times I could tell.
I felt the words leave my throat as my mouth dropped open. My hand went to her stomach before I met her gaze. Each time I tried to form a word, it was lost by the time I opened my mouth again.
“You’re pregnant,” I whispered.
She nodded. “Ten weeks.”
My legs gave out under me, and I found myself on my knees, my head on her stomach. I couldn’t hear anything, but I felt so humbled, in love, and overjoyed. Her hands found their way into my hair again as I kissed her stomach.
“I love you, too, Liam. I just don’t know if I can say it often,” she whispered. “So you’re going to have to say it to him or her a lot.”
I laughed and nodded. She bent down in front of me, and I gripped the sides of her face.
“Holy shit, I’m fucking pregnant,” she whispered.
“Holy shit, indeed,” I whispered back before taking her lips. Pulling her body to mine, I lifted her up bridal style and walked over to the bed.
“No sex on the piano?” she asked in my arms.
“I don’t want sex. I want to make love to you.”
Dropping her in the center of the bed, she raised an eyebrow at me. “You are so cheesy, Liam.”
“Shut up and enjoy it.” If I was going to die of something, it was going to be of happiness.
She pulled me by my belt onto the bed and hopped on my waist. “You cannot treat me differently.”
“The fuck I am.” Everything was different now.
“Liam, I’m serious.” She glared at me.
Sitting up, I grabbed her sides to hold her in place. “So am I, you’re pregnant.”
“That doesn’t make me handicapped or made out of glass,” she snapped, and I would have to prepare for a few months of it. But that thought only brought a smile to my lips.
“Melody, if you would let me, I would wrap you in bubble wrap and make sure you were surrounded by at least four men on the ground and two in the fucking sky.”
“And I would use the motherfuckers’ heads as target practice. Until I start to fucking waddle, no one is to treat me any fucking differently. If they do, I’ll chain them to the back of your stupid Audi and rip them apart. Pregnant or not, I’m still fucking Bloody Melody,” she yelled in my face.
There had to be something fucked up with me if I found her threatening to kill people while pregnant sexy. Kissing her, I made sure to leave a mental note of where our argument had left off before flipping her onto her back. I could feel her small hands ripping at my clothes, trying her best to pull them off me as I was trying to do with her.
“Say it again,” I whispered, kissing down her chest.
“What?” she gasped out in pleasure as I made it to the promise land, the land of milk and honey right between her thighs.
“Tell me you love me.” I kissed her other lips, before placing three fingers inside her.
She didn’t speak as I quickened my fingers in and out of her. She moaned out loudly as I slowed down.
“Liam . . .”
“Tell me,” I whispered, moving so slow she rocked against me in hopes of forcing me to move faster.
“I fucking hate you!”
“And?” I asked, smirking. I loved watching her this wild because of me.
“That’s it.” She smiled, and I bit her thigh gently.
“I wanted to drink all of you,” I muttered against her skin toward my fingers. “I wanted to make you come with my tongue.”
Pulling out, she whimpered.
“But since you once again want to be difficult”—I smiled, releasing my throbbing cock out of my pants—“I’m going to have to fuck it out of you.”
Before she could respond, I slammed into her and her body jerked off the bed.
“Fucking Christ, Liam,” she hissed out in pleasure, locking her legs around me. However, I pulled them apart.
“This will be all about my pleasure and not yours if you don’t say it, love.” I grinned as she fought against me, but I always won this fight.
“I fucking hate you.”
“And?”
“I kind of love you, too, you asshole,” she mumbled, and I would take it.
Capturing her lips in mine for only a moment before I sucked her breast, she rocked against me while I stroked within her. Each movement was painfully slow, but I didn’t want to rush this. I wanted us to ride each wave of pleasure with her. But my wife rarely did what I wanted. Wrapping her legs around me once again, she pulled me even closer to her before flipping me on the bed. Her head rocked back while she rode me, and I had to hold on to the headboard. My grip was so tight, I was shocked that it didn’t break.
“Jesus, Mel.” I groaned. I couldn’t hold it anymore. Grabbing her waist, I held on, watching through half-closed eyes as she brought me the greatest pleasure.
“I love you,” I cried as I came along with her. She fell on top of me, and my first instinct was to wrap her in my arms.
All I could smell was sex, and all I could hear was her deep breaths mixed in with mine. We stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms for what seemed liked hours before she looked up at me. She didn’t say anything just stared, and once again, I wished I could read her mind.
“What?” I asked as she rolled beside me. My hand went to her stomach protectively. The next fucking Callahan, my kid, was less than seven months away. It made me want to make love to her all over again.
“We should have used condoms,” she whispered, placing her hand over mine.
“Not today. Not fucking ever.” I didn’t want anything between us. “You don’t want a child?”
“Kids are smelly and loud. You never know what they want because they can’t talk. Their heads are way too big for their bodies, which means if you drop them, they’re going headfirst. They’re like little aliens.” She sighed, and I tried not to smile. She was scared and worried about being a mother, and because she was my Mel, she would never just come out and say it.
“Only in the beginning—”
“Yeah, because they transform from aliens into monsters. First, little monsters who cry and throw tantrums, then to sex-crazed teenagers who think they are smarter than everyone else. That’s going to be the next eighteen years, Liam. I’m not like your mom. My patience will run out, and I am going to say or do something—”
I kissed her. “There were days my mom was even scarier than my father
. . . a lot of days, actually. However, my parents made it work, and we turned out fine.”
“You’re a sex-crazed, closet smoker, who sells dope, crack, and smack for a living. Not to mention a murderer.” She rolled her eyes at me before laughing.
“Like I said, I turned out fine.” Honestly, the worst thing was the murder, but that wasn’t my fault. People thought they could steal from us, threaten us, and I made sure that wasn’t tolerated.
“I’m a planner Liam,” she said, sighing. “I like to know how I’m going to approach things, or kill them. This, our kid, isn’t part of my plan. We have Saige and Amory to deal . . .”
“Don’t stress, love. I can handle—”She pulled a knife from under the pillow and held it to my throat. Pushing me back, she took a seat on my waist once again.
“If you try to put me on the bench, Liam, so help me I will start cutting body parts off. I may be pregnant, but I am still Bloody Motherfucking Melody. I can destroy anyone I want. I’ll chalk it up to hormones.” She glared, and I could see the same woman who shot me in the thigh.
I felt my dick rise at her words and her position on top of me.
“Bloody Motherfucking Melody, indeed.” I snickered, rubbing against her. I watched her eyes glaze over as she let the knife drop to the floor and kissed me.
When our phones rang and she pulled away, I felt the need to snap whichever fool thought to call us at two in the morning.
“Speak,” she said into the phone as I kissed her legs. “We will be right there.”
No, we’ll be right here! My mind begged.
Hanging up, Mel jumped out of bed, leaving me hard as a fucking rock in bed.
“Amory and Saige burned down my fucking house,” she snapped angrily as she stomped into the closet.
I groaned to myself. “Damn them all to hell.”
“Liam, get your horny fucking ass out of bed and help me kill a bitch!” she yelled.
Oh, I was going to kill them all right.
MELODY
I leaned against the car, watching as the Giovanni Villa burned to the ground. The fire department was trying their best to control the fire, but a deadlier one was burning inside me.
Fedel ran up to me. “There was a note on the gate, ma’am.”
I saw Liam reaching for it, but I snatched it before he could and glared at him. He was not going to treat me differently. I wouldn’t have it.
You burn my shit, I burn yours. All is fair in war. Congrats on the baby. Such a happy time for you both.
XOXO
A&S
Liam grabbed the letter, his nose flaring with just as much rage as mine was.
There was only one other person who knew I was pregnant.
I roared into Fedel’s face. “Find Dr. Anderson, now!”
Liam turned to me, his eyes still hard. “Everything is different now.”
I nodded, opening the car door and taking a seat. Everything was different. I was now a bigger target. I was always a target, but now so was my child—the next leader of our empire—and because of that, I was going to have to change. Not into Evelyn or Coraline, but a different type of leader. I was going to have to figure out how to be ruthless and pregnant. Amory and Saige picked the wrong motherfucking family to mess with.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“He pulls a knife,
you pull a gun,
he sends one of yours to the hospital,
you send one of his to the morgue . . .”
~ Al Capone
LIAM
“What’s a five letter word for mortality?” I asked the man in the hospital cast in front of me.
He said nothing, but that had to be due to all the morphine. Smirking, I snapped my fingers and filled in the spaces of the newspaper crossword.
“That’s right, death,” I said to him. “It seems even God is mocking you Commissioner . . . ex-Commissioner now, right? People don’t like suicidal cops.”
He just glared as I continued with my game.
“Seven letter word for ineffective. Don’t tell me, failure. Seriously, this is today’s crossword. Can you believe it? It’s like they made it about your life.”
“Is that why you’re here, Callahan, to kick a man when he is down? I’m not shocked,” he hissed out, but I wasn’t sure if that was due to the pain or because he was ticked off.
“I don’t kick a man when he is down. I put a bullet in his skull. You should know that.” I sighed, placing the paper down.
“Then kill me already,” he yelled, making me want to roll my eyes.
“Not until you answer a few of my questions,” I replied, rising to my feet. I reached over and grabbed his oxygen mask.
Taking it off his bruised face, he took a deep breath before it turned into short gasps for air. He reached over for the nurse call button so I pushed it for him. Once, then twice, and then a few more times for the heck of it.
“This side of the hospital has been cleared, so let’s chat.” I grinned, giving him a few seconds of air before pulling the mask from his face again.
“Go to hell,” he breathed out.
“My wife is a raging homicidal hormonal pregnant woman. I sleep with hell.” I sighed, giving him air again.
“Give me a second to shit bricks of sadness.”
And I laughed, too, before grabbing the pillow from behind his head, pressing it against his face.
“I’m not in the mood for a smartass,” I snapped at him. When I took the pillow off his face, he coughed like a dying chain smoker.
He held on to my hand as I fed him his air. “Let’s start with something simple. Why did you jump out of your hotel room? That could kill, you know.”
He tried to hold on to the air but I simply ripped it from him.
“You burned down my house.”
“I wasn’t charged, tried, or arrested for anything.”
“I know it was you! You Callahans destroy everything.” His voice broke, and again, I rolled my eyes. “But you warned me and I should have . . . you warned me and so it’s my fault they died. That little girl, you sick mother! I told you about her! It was me. I-I—”
“Please don’t get emotional, that was only my first question.” I needed him alive right now.
“No games, what do you want from me? You have taken everything.” He coughed, leaning back on his bed.
“I want to know everything you have on the Valero.” He laughed liked a mad man, and when he did, I held the pillow to his face again. He struggled until he was too weak, and it was then that I let him go.
“Let’s do this again.” I held on to his face. “Tell me about Amory, Saige, and Vance or so help me God, I will make you wish you had died. I will make sure you are alive and well, trapped in your own fucking body like a jail cell. Each day, I will make sure someone personally gives me a patch of your skin until you are nothing but an open wound. What . . . do . . . you . . . know?”
He smiled. “They want you dead, your wife, your child, and every last Callahan. They tried bringing you down the legal way, but I’m a failure remember? They are just as ruthless as you are. Word on the street is that your wife’s personal doctor was tortured and then dismembered.”
“Word on the street? Did you hear that when your body collided with it?” I wanted to rip the smiled from his lips.
“Doesn’t change the fact that they are coming for you,” he said, and when he did, I pulled away, grabbed the morphine drip and replaced the liquid.
“This is adrenaline in small doses. It blocks out pain. In large doses, it does the opposite. You feel everything.” I tapped the bag. “You’re not going to ride to the afterlife in sweet painless bliss. You’re going to feel it all, and right as your heart gives out, think about how big of an idiot you were to step into my house. The very day this city was born, people like me have run Chicago. You thought you were the next somebody who did shit. But all you will be remembered as will be the motherfucker who failed at his marriage, failed at his job, and failed to eve
n kill himself.”
Grabbing my newspaper, I walked back to the door.
“This isn’t over Callahan. It doesn’t just end with me. You won’t always be untouchable. You’re only human!” he yelled at me.
“All men are touchable, Andrew, those who touch me simply lose their hands. So let them come. I’m only just beginning. What I’ve done to you is not even the beginning.” A second later the adrenaline must have kicked in because he shook and screamed like a fish out of water . . . much to my ears’ enjoyment.
Stepping out into the hall, Declan, Neal, Monte, and Fedel all stood waiting for me. Declan walked over, handing me a phone as we walked out of the hospital.
“Hello, sweetheart.” I smirked.
“You no good motherfucking bitch!” she yelled at me.
“Sweetheart, we don’t want our kid coming out swearing like a sailor.” I laughed as Fedel opened the car door for me.
“The life-form who is fucking with my emotions, draining my energy, and stealing half of all my food is certainly in a sac of fluid and can’t hear a word I’m saying. You went to see the commissioner without me!” she screeched as I flipped through the files in front of me.
“Love, you were knocked out cold this morning . . .”
“Then use your motherfucking hands and wake me the fuck up. You benched me!” Little did she know, I tried to wake her up but she was no longer in the land of the living then.
“Love—”
“You left me here with your mother, who is now calling every motherfucking asshole with a drop of Irish in their veins to the house. I will kill someone, cut off their head and put it on the dashboard of your car if you do not fix this shit. I’m eleven and a half weeks and barely showing!” Her hormones were going to cost me my life . . . or a relative.
“Mel, sweetheart . . .”
“Call me ‘love’ or ‘sweetheart’ one more time, sweetheart, and I will bust your teeth in,” she said sweetly.
“I got nothing from him. Antonio and Eric told me they caught one of the Valero men, Cross, in Mexico. They should be in the house, and you can handle that when I get back.” There was silence on the line, which I prayed meant she was okay.
