by J. J. McAvoy
“Yeah, it wasn’t that bad. Apparently, she went to the hospital, and I almost joined her, doing my best to keep Neal and Mina at bay. My ears are still ringing from their cursing and yelling.” He rubbed his ear just from the memory.
“I don’t blame them, though. If it were Helen—”
“I hope Neal and Mina would hold us back, too,” he said to my surprise.
I was expecting him to say something like, “Nothing would have been able to stop him from beating the shit out of her.”
“You would want to be held back?”
“No, and yes.” He sighed again, his shoulders slumping. “No, I’d never want anything to happen to our children, and I would always defend them no matter what. However, today, just now, when I was holding Neal back, he and Mina were saying things like Ethan had lost his mind, and this was crazy, and that everything over the last few weeks was madness. There was too much chaos; it could be dangerous…I agreed with them.”
“You are not wrong, everything they said was valid,” I replied.
He grinned and lifted my hand from his shoulder and brought it to his lips, kissing my fingers. “You are old, too, after all.”
“What?”
“Everything Neal and Mina were saying were the same things Evelyn and Sedric said right after Melody came here,” he replied, and it was only then that I realized what it meant.
“When we were younger, when we were right beside Liam and Melody, yes, it was crazy. There was madness and chaos and danger. If we saw it, we didn’t acknowledge it. We charged full speed ahead, smashing anything and everything in our way with no regard to what it may cause later. Even when we tried to anticipate the danger, we never really cared or paused. We did whatever we wanted to do. Because that is what the young do—they charge full speed ahead; they dive right in.”
“And we, their parents, are left screaming, be careful or watch out. We are the ones to worry because we are old now.” I smiled back, and he nodded slowly.
“And they do not want to hear us. Just like we didn’t listen to our parents. That’s what I had to tell Neal. When Sedric gave everything over to Liam, he let him make every choice and mistake by himself. Even when it threatened all of us. He did only what he was told to do, even though there were so many people who still respected him as the boss of this family…the city. The amount of humility that must have taken, I did not fully realize until now. I told Neal we had to do the same. Because the moment Liam died, we let Ethan take over.”
“Let? Ethan was eighteen at the time. He was going to step up no matter what you did. You avoided fighting him,” I reminded him.
“He was only eighteen, Cora,” he whispered. “Liam was twenty-seven when he took over. That is a big difference. We should have waited for him to get older.”
“Melody was eighteen when she took over. And of the two of them, who is he more like?” I pressed.
“I don’t know anymore,” he said, and when he looked at me, his eyes were heavy. “Maybe we should have never looked at him from Liam or Melody-shaped lenses. We should have just seen him. Who is Ethan? I thought I knew, but now I am not sure. When Calliope came, she made me realize there was this whole other side to Ethan that none of us knew about. And now, it’s too late for us to mope or gripe about who he is or what we should have done. He is family. He is the head of this house. So, we have to be on his side. And we also have to stay out of his way. Let him make him his own mistakes and his own path. We have to let them all do so.”
“You know all of this, but you hate actually trying to do it.” Which was why he was in my greenhouse huffing and puffing.
“I hate it so much, Cora!” he snickered. “I miss being able to just pick all of them up and put them in separate corners. Or telling them to sit and they’d actually just stay there and say they were sorry afterward…I miss…”
“When they were children,” I said and wrapped my arms around him.
“Instead, I have one son who’s rushing back to a life I tried to guide him away from and a daughter trying to drive me insane as she rips my heart out of my fucking chest.”
“What did Helen do?”
His head whipped back to me so quickly I was sure it had to hurt. However, his chest puffed up like a pissed off chicken. “What did she do other than…other than…ugh!” He couldn’t even say it.
“Other than fall in love with Wyatt?”
“No.” He pointed his finger at me.
“No, what?”
“Do not take their side or explain or even speak kindly about what those two are doing. She loves him? Why? Because they were close when they were young. They are confusing their emotions and making a mess out of this family in the process. And the fact that Wyatt...that he’d cross this line proves he does not give a shit about anyone but himself. I want to kill him.” He snapped his jaw shut like someone was trying to force-feed him sour lemons.
“Huh.” It was all I could say, letting go of him and leaning back, picking up my book.
“Huh…Huh, what? What are you huhing about?” he snapped.
“Nothing.” Except how he knew he had to let Ethan make his own mistakes but couldn’t let Helen and Wyatt do the same.
His frown deepened. “That’s even worse. If you aren’t saying anything, it’s because I told you not to take their side. So now, I can clearly see you’ve taken their side on this.”
“No matter what, I will always be on your side, Declan. I promise.” I lifted three fingers, giving him a boy scout promise.
“Good, make sure they know that, too,” he said, the frown on his lips lessening but not by much. He let out another deep sigh and shifted, laying back into my lap. “We’re old…” he groaned again.
“We are,” I replied gently. “But I like being old. It’s better than being dead. I want to get older with you.”
That did it.
He grinned wide, his teeth out and everything. “How old are we talking? Eighty? Ninety? One hundred? One hundred and ten?”
“How old do you want to go? I don’t want to be in diapers, aching and shaking with no teeth, Declan.”
He beamed not at all bothered. “What do we need teeth for? We’ll drink soup and eat cake and be happier for it. Aching? A few puffs of a little green plant will take care of that.”
“And the diapers?”
“I’ll change yours if you change mine.” He winked, and I laughed. He was an idiot, and I was still so much in love with him. I wanted to stay here with him in our little greenhouse.
“Isn’t funny how we live long enough just to end up like infants again?” I asked.
“Oh, enough of this,” he said, hopping up and pulling me up with him.
“Declan!” I squealed.
“Let’s do something fun…something young,” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“And that would be? Young people don’t ask what is young or fun; they just make it happen.”
“Then, I will make it happen.” He wiggled his eyebrows, kissing my lips gently.
“You always do.”
10
“Authority is the ability to rule
Dominion is rulership.”
~ Sherry K. White
ETHAN
“Do you know what the most common question I get asked is, Darcy?” I asked him, lifting the cards Greyson had dealt us both.
He stood silently to the left of us while I tossed a chip into the center.
“People question you?” Darcy replied, surprised, folding. When he did, Greyson dealt again.
“Unfortunately, but it’s not as if I rule the whole world. Why wouldn’t people question me?” I replied, picking up the new cards. “So again, what do you think that question is?”
“I don’t know.” He frowned and gave me a look. This was not the time to be oblivious. “If I had to guess, it would be what you are thinking?”
“Close,” I stated, betting once more, “but no. They ask me what I am planning.”
; He raised, and when he did, I revealed the royal flush in my hands. He scoffed. He looked over his cards once more and then glanced around the table before his hazel eyes met mine. I stared back blankly, waiting.
“The game just started. The deck was new. I shuffled, you getting the best hand on the first two deals is impossible.”
“Not impossible if you cheat,” I stated, dropping my cards onto the table.
“We aren’t really betting on anything, Ethan. Why cheat—”
“We are betting on everything, Darcy.” Did he really think I had brought him to a condemned diner to play poker? “The game didn’t just start. We’ve been playing since we were children. The deck may be new, but I own the company that makes the deck. You shuffled because I wanted you to feel like you had control.”
“What do you mean this game started when were children?” He frowned, laying his cards, all twos, on the table.
“Greyson,” I looked over to the man standing beside me, “give my cousin and me a few moments alone.”
“Yes, sir.” He nodded and, without another word, walked outside the boarded-up doors and closed them behind him. When he was gone, I turned back to Darcy.
“Your earlier question is not the question you should be asking right now. What you should be asking is, what was the point of this?” I stated and waited for him to ask him.
It took a moment before he nodded. “Okay, Ethan, what was the point of this?”
“To remind you that even in something as insignificant as a poker game, I will not only make sure I win, I will guarantee it.”
“You didn’t have to remind me—”
“And do you know how I guarantee I never lose?” I interrupted, not really interested in his thoughts or comments.
He shook his head.
“I make sure everything is within my power. So, I own everything. Do you know why I am telling you this?”
Again, he shook his head.
“Because I’m going to do what I never do and share my plans. After all, you wanted to be part of the business, correct?”
At that, he sat up straighter. “Yes.”
“Good,” I nodded. “But the truth is, the Callahan family business does not have space for you.”
“W…what?” He half laughed, but the concern was evident over his brown face. “What do you mean there isn’t space for me?”
“I mean, Wyatt and I will able to keep the Irish in check. Calliope will keep the Italians…eventually. My parents grew our business so much that it doesn’t really require us to do much anymore. Truthfully, the system works so well it doesn’t even really require me to do anything but protect the balance. Make sure those who work for us remain in place, and that they don’t get greedy or blinded by power. If they do, I remove them. Any new obstacles, I remove them. I do not really need you for that.”
“But I can help you remove any new obstacles that get in your way.”
“What do you think I pay men for?” I asked, leaning back. “You are a celebrity, Darcy. What do you think you’re going to be able to do? Kick in doors and threaten people? Everyone in the city can connect you back to the family. That makes you a liability, not an asset.”
His jaw cracked to the side, and his hands balled to fist. “Are you going to tell me to throw a ball back into a hoop, too?”
“Darcy. Use your goddamn brain. We are related by blood, so I know you have one,” I snapped. “If that was what I was going to tell you, I wouldn’t have wasted my time coming here.”
His fist relaxed, and he still looked at me as if he were a child. This was the problem with talking to Calliope for hours. I got used to her connecting dots and forgot how slow everyone else was all the damn time.
“Very well then, let me help you,” I replied. “By your comment, I’m guessing Calliope got under your skin with that. However, she was not wrong. You may be Irish, but you are still black.”
“I am biracial.”
“Congratulations. But you are still fucking black, Darcy.”
“Black Irish people exist, if you have not noticed. When we were last in Ireland—”
I held up my hand, telling him to stop before he went on and I lost my patience. “I do not need you to be Irish. I need you to be fucking black. Why? Because that is an asset. One you would be able to see if you weren’t so damn deep in your fucking feelings,” I stated when he opened his mouth to defend himself. “I don’t give a shit about your insecurities, and I suggest you drop them. Honestly, Darcy, I’ve watched as you’ve struggled your whole life, trying to figure out who you are. Defend who you are. Where your place is. I’ve been waiting for you to realize you are a Callahan. That is your race. That is where you belong.”
“Then—”
“Before you stupidly ask me why do I need you to be black, think about why we make sure people see us Irish or Italian.”
He stared at me.
And again, this was why I had never bothered to explain plans or speak—none of them caught on. “Because having people…The community is important, Darcy. It’s how we function. You want to be useful to the family? Simple. Do for the blacks in Chicago what our grandfathers did for the Irish and the Italians.”
“You want me to create a mob?”
“Exactly.”
He leaned forward, staring at me with eyes wide. “Ethan, why the hell would you want me to do that?”
“Weren’t you listening? The only way to guarantee I never lose is to own everything,” I repeated, and finally, I watched as it hit him, and he put everything together.
“You don’t want to just rule the Irish and the Italians, you want to rule everyone,” he whispered slowly. “You would use me to get all of the black gangs in the city under control, but not just that. Sedric was supposed to come today. So, you’re planning on using him for the Asians, too. Sedric and I would be the secret puppet leaders, but in reality, we would just be working for you.”
“What’s the point of having a diverse family if I don’t use it to my advantage? Hopefully, we will get someone from South America in this family, too. But for now, I have you both…or at least you until Sedric grows up a bit more.”
He put his hands together, staring at me for a moment and waited. It felt like an hour had gone by before he finally spoke again. “Let’s say this works out perfectly, exactly as you planned.” He held out his hands. “Then what is going to be the source of revenue? There are only so many products you can sell, Ethan. If you split the pot three ways, that means the Irish and the Italians get less. That is going to cause problems, isn’t it?”
I could almost hear Calliope applaud him sarcastically for thinking so far ahead. “That is for me to be concerned with. You, on the other hand, have a lot of work ahead of you. Unless you do not want it.”
“I’m not stupid, a puppet king is better than a footman,” he replied.
“Good, Greyson will inform you about all the black Irish men who already work for us, who will now work for you personally. And then you start to build. You will move out of the house—soon. Your first charity project will be this diner. That will be a cover so you can get better aquatinted with those in the neighborhood,” I replied.
“So, that’s why you chose this place. It gives me the best excuse, my parents.” He snickered. When I didn’t reply, he went on. “You knew my dad first met my mom in this diner. He said they used to love coming to this place, and it brought back so many memories for them. Back then, it used to be a nice neighborhood. A lot of Irish used to live here. But better neighborhoods began to go up across the city, and thanks to our family, because of the money coming from our family, many Irish moved out to those better places. And most of the businesses here went downhill. The place went to hell and nothing has been renovated since. You have a twisted view of the world, Ethan, making the old diner where my parents fell in love the same place where their son will come back and revive it for power.”
“Why is that twisted?” I asked him curiously as I rose fr
om the table. “Because you didn’t think about it? It seems the most logical to me. It’s the way of the world. What you leave for ruin someone else will use for glory. Your feelings are irrelevant to that. If you want to lead, you must be willing to do so and step on anything or anyone to get where you want.”
“Noted,” he replied, standing up as well.
“Good, then after Greyson fills you in, you won’t have a problem killing him.”
“What?”
“Do not let me down, Darcy. Call me when it is done.”
DARCY
Greyson had been with Ethan as his right-hand man for years, since nearly the beginning of his time as head of the family. He was close enough to be considered family. And now he wanted him dead. No explanation, no care, nothing. I couldn’t help but smirk. It was amazing. All my life, I had looked up to Ethan. He was the cool older brother I always wanted to be. Nothing seemed to faze him. Nothing seemed to bother him. And each time I saw just how heartless and how cold he was…I knew how much further I had to go.
“That’s all of them,” Greyson said across from me, passing the tablet to me before rising to his feet. “Did he have any other orders for us?”
There were so many things I wanted to ask him. I wanted to know what he’d learned by watching over Ethan all over these years, if he felt burdened. But I knew every word I said, every moment I wasted was a chance to blow the faith my cousin left in me.
“Darcy?” He looked back at me.
“Yes,” I nodded. “Ethan had another order.”
“Well?” He shook his arms, waiting. “What is it—”
BANG.
The blood splattered across my face as he stumbled back once, and then again before falling, the hole in his neck gushing with blood.
“It’s goodbye,” I muttered before firing once more into his skull.
Lifting the phone to my ear, it rang only once before he answered; however, he spoke before I could. “Get rid of his body, I’ve already called 9-1-1.”
“Why the fuck would—”
