by J. J. McAvoy
“Do you need anything else, sir?” She asked when she put the tray down in the corner of my room.
“What do you think I need?” I asked back, and with that she slowly unbuttoned her blouse. I didn’t have time for slowly.
Closing the distance between us, I ripped the blouse off her, kissing her lips before lifting her up, her thighs wrapping around my waist. And I pushed down the nagging feeling I had in the pit of my stomach.
ELEVEN
“The less you reveal
the more people can wonder.”
~ Emma Watson
HELEN
Buzz.
Buzz.
“Hello?” I muttered into the line, still not opening my eyes.
“Wake up. I’m mad at you.”
I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was. “Dona, I have a really bad hangover, can you call back—”
“You are aware it is improper to not answer the phone when a princess of a foreign nation is calling you, right?” she asked, obviously not giving a damn about the fact that it felt like my brain was trying to escape out of my damn ears.
Sighing, I turned over on the couch and brushed my hair out of my face. “Last I checked you weren’t married, only living in absolute sin. Therefore, I’m not being improper by screening your calls.”
“Do I look like an idiot to you? I made him sign the marriage license before I got off the damn plane.”
It’s too early!
“Donatella, you’re supposed to marry the handsome prince after you kill the wicked witch not before,” I said to her. Then again, she was hell bent on breaking all the rules. God only knows how she pulled that off. Princes had rules, didn’t they?
“Says who? Disney?” She gave a very un-princess-like grunt. “If the handsome prince needs my help and wants to screw me while he gets said help, then handsome prince needs to be my legal husband because there is no way in hell I’m fighting for a future possibility and not a sure thing.”
I frowned at that. “You could have at least done a video call, so I could have seen. I swear everyone is doing this just to stop me and my mom from planning your wedding.”
“Oh, I’m still having a massive wedding. It hasn’t leaked here that we are already married. The wicked witch has her hands in the media here. So as long as you’re still my family, you’ll be planning my wedding.”
“What does that mean?”
Dona was always clear with her words. She didn’t throw cryptic messages out there without a reason.
“A little birdy told me you ran away from home.”
I rolled my eyes, rolling back onto my side. “Let me guess, Nana.”
“Who else? It isn’t so funny when she’s talking about you, now is it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t run away from home. Okay, I did run, but only because I just needed…I needed space.”
“You hate space, Helen.”
“I do not hate—”
“You hate space so much you cried when your parents told you that you couldn’t sleep in their bed anymore…so you started to sleep in mine. When I left for school, you slept in anyone else’s bed but your own—”
“Okay, I fucking hate space! I still needed time to think.” Jesus Christ, give me a break.
“You think best when you’re talking to people, which is why you hate space—”
“Wow, you must be super bored if you’re picking on me this much.” There was a long pause. I grinned. “Do you miss us, princess?”
“In all honestly, no.” she said, her voice much more serious and cold…a.k.a. the Donatella I knew. “I’m not calling because I’m bored. Believe me, I have more than enough on my plate here.”
“So, you’re calling because—”
“Because I need you to get your shit together.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, no longer willing to joke with her.
“I’m sure you don’t need a reminder of the current within our family. Someone took a shot at you all. I am on the other side of the globe fighting my own goddamn battles against people I can’t even understand. I do not have the time nor the energy to worry about Chicago or you all, nor do I want to. You and I both know running this family is a two-person job. My parents made it that way. Every Ceann Na Conairte needs a strong wife beside him. Until she comes along, her duties fall on the strongest woman of the family. After me, that’s you. So, get your shit together and help my brother, Helen. I don’t give a shit about whatever your crazy mind is trying to make sense of. You don’t get to take a me-day until the family is stable. Wyatt can’t do this alone.”
“Aww, I’m flattered, Dona,” I said on as if I didn’t hear her little speech. “I didn’t know you thought so highly of me. When did I become the strongest woman of the family?”
“I said after me.” Of course. “And don’t play coy with me. I know you. You don’t give a damn about your biological father, and if Wyatt hadn’t killed him, you would have done it eventually.”
“No, I would not—”
“Catherine Zane.” The moment she said that, all of me shivered, as if she’d dumped ice water on my head. I tried to reply, but the words wouldn’t come out of my throat. So, she went on. “Helen is the nice one. Helen is the good one. Helen doesn’t get involved—bullshit. You are nice to the people you want to be nice to. Good to the people you want to be good to. But deep down, you’re just like the rest of us. A manipulative, selfish, violent murderer. After all, how could you have tricked me into killing her? You didn’t care that I was only twelve. You didn’t care what type of ramifications that would have on me…taking a life for the first time. Or that she herself was a mother. You just wanted her to go away. You wanted to stay with us, and she kept trying to put you with your biological family. So, you used me to get rid her.”
I remained calm, forcing myself to smile as I spoke back to her. “You know last night I was thinking I had Stockholm syndrome. Now I’m quite certain…no reasonable person should give any fucks about you, Dona.”
“But you do anyway because the Callahan family does not raise reasonable people. They raise warriors. Kings. Future queens, in fact. They raise the next leaders of the world. You were raised Callahan, you are a Callahan...and one of the strongest of us, no matter how much you pretend otherwise. What right do you have to get angry at anyone? To walk out on anyone? You need space? No. You need a wakeup call. Congrats, I’m taking time out of my very busy schedule to give you one. So, get your shit together, go home and help because the longer it takes for you all to settle this clusterfuck, the longer I have to wait to have my goddamn wedding. And the very thought of me having to postpone my wedding for dead, Ivy is more than enough punishment for the year.”
“Ethan is hurting—”
“Not because of Ivy,” She huffed. “I know Ethan, I’m sure he’s more upset because he feels like he failed his duty as man or whatever than because he actually misses her. It’s a wound to his pride not his heart. He’ll live.”
Inhaling sharply like someone had pumped air back into my lungs, I told her the truth. “You’re a terrible person, Donatella.”
“Which is why we’ve always been so close. Love you, Helen.”
“Love you, too,” I said emotionlessly, coldly, as I hung up on her, tossing the phone to the side. I laid there trying to figure out what happened last night, but I couldn’t remember. Sitting up, I stared at the Chi-burger bag before looking at the first aid kit, then the ground by my feet. Slowly it all came back to me.
“Oh, fucking shit!” I got up, putting my hands over my mouth. Praying to God my memory was warped by some weird dream I had. “Oh no…no. No. Helen, you didn’t.”
Looking around quickly, I nearly jumped over the couch for my tablet. Picking it up from the ground, I held it like it was a child. “Play video camera for midnight last night.”
I watched and then fast-forwarded. When I saw it. When I watched myself get up and kiss him, my legs went limp, and I collaps
ed onto the floor. “What have I done?”
Think, Helen. Think!
“Delete video from all severs.”
“Password needed.”
Placing my thumb on the screen, I watched it delete before letting the tablet fall out of my hands onto the floor.
“I’ve ruined everything.” I whispered to myself. What was going to happen now? He was going to act awkward! My parents…shit. No, he wouldn’t talk to them about this. Maybe he was drunk, too?
And I remembered why I was so upset earlier.
It was because I want Wyatt. I didn’t want to be taken away from my family. But I don’t want Wyatt to see me as family. I want to be a Callahan. But not a Callahan.
“I’m horrible person.” It was never about my biological father or family. My father is Declan Callahan. My mother is Coraline Wilson Callahan. I wouldn’t have changed that for the world. But I wanted Wyatt not to see me as his cousin. I wanted my biological parents to show up just to remind him I wasn’t his cousin. But he never stopped seeing me as his uncle’s daughter. That is why I was mad. That was why I left.
I’m a manipulative, selfish, violent murderer…who just forced herself on her cousin!
I have to fix this.
Getting up off the ground and going back to the couch, I picked up my phone, dialing before heading up the stairs to my bedroom.
“This is Helen Callahan in the penthouse suite, I’ll be leaving in a few hours. Have my car ready and call the maids. This place is a mess.”
WYATT – AGE ELEVEN
Lifting the cloth up, I stuck my head under to ask, “Why are you under the table?”
“Because it’s nice under here.” Her brown eyes were red like she was crying, but she sniffed, wiping them so I couldn’t see. I looked at both ends of the table before crawling under with her. “What are you doing?”
“You said it was nice down here. I want to see, move over.”
“Wyatt—”
“Did someone say something mean to you?” I asked, picking at the paint under the table.
“No.”
“So why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad.”
“You’re crying.”
“I’m not.”
“Your eyes are red, and you have a booger—”
“Shut up!” she yelled at me, putting her hands over her nose. Laughing, I reached into my suit pocket and gave her my handkerchief. She blew so hard, I shook a little bit with her. I tried not to laugh, but she sounded like an elephant.
“Do you think I’ll ever get married?”
“Why do you want to get married?” I asked her like she was crazy.
She flicked my forehead. “Not now! When I’m older.”
“Oh.” Duh.
“Sure, you’ll get married when you’re older. Why wouldn’t you? You’re pretty…well, not when your face is covered in snot.”
I tensed up, ready for her to hit me or even yell again. But she didn’t. Instead she said, “I heard some of the boys say that Dona was so pretty and that Nari was kind of cute, too. Then one of them said that I looked like a monkey with a…mop…a mop on my head.”
“Which boys?” I asked, looking out over the yard.
She leaned over and then pointed, to the ones by the trees. “Them.”
When I looked back at her, that’s when I saw her lips tremble and that she was pinching her hands together so tightly her nails were digging into her skin.
“Don’t do that,” I said, pulling her hands apart. “One day you’re going to get a ring on there. You don’t want your hands to have scars.”
“But I’m ugly—” This time I flicked her forehead as hard as I could. “Ouch!”
“I already said you’re pretty! Why are you listening to their words more than mine!” I yelled at her, really annoyed for some reason. “I’m going to tell Ethan, Darcy and Sedric, too. We’re going to get them back for sure.”
“No! My parents said not to cause trouble.”
“Were kids, Helen, we’re supposed to cause trouble!” I grinned, letting go of her hand and moved to get out from under the table.
“Wyatt!”
I popped my head back under. “Besides, if no one marries you, I will.”
“We’re cousins. You can’t do that.” She replied back at me.
“That’s not true.” I took out my phone to check and showed it to her. “Marrying your first cousin is legal in twenty-five states. Some lists claim that twenty-six states allow cousin marriage... No states ban marriages between second cousins. We’re second cousins, Helen!”
“I’m not marrying you, Wyatt!” She glared at me.
I frowned. “Why not? I’m cool. Plus, I’m about to beat up the people who made you cry.”
“Wyatt, don’t!”
“Stay here and watch so you don’t get in trouble, too,” I replied, giving her thumbs up before standing up straighter. I saw Ethan looking at me from across the lawn. I ran back toward the house, waving for him to come with me.
I was going to make those boys cry worse than her.
WYATT – NOW
That’s where I remembered that from. I sat up against the headboard. I even proposed?
“Hmm.” Looking to see what the maid lying next to me wanted, I felt annoyed with myself again.
“You’re not going to make me ask you to leave, are you?” she asked, pausing for a little bit before holding onto the bedsheet tightly, as if I hadn’t already seen all of her. She slid out of my bed and brushed her red curls out of her face. She bent down, trying to put her clothes back on as swiftly as possible. Ignoring her, I grabbed my phone and got up myself, stretching out my back. She’d just made it to the door when I called out to her. “Wait.”
“Yes.” Her head whipped back to look at me so quickly that I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows. Her eyes were wide…hopeful.
I pointed to the tray on my dresser. “Take that with you.”
She blinked a few times before shifting her gaze to the untouched dinner she’d brought to my room last night. “Oh…yeah. Sorry. I’ll take it. You didn’t eat. I’ll have your breakfast—”
“Did I tell you I didn’t eat? I simply said take the tray as you leave.” I watched as she tried her best to hide the disappointment on her face as she moved to take the tray. “Thank you. That’s all, and this will be our last…personal call together.”
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, hanging her head and gripping onto the tray tightly.
“Yes,” I answered as I walked over to her, ignoring the sharp protest in my shoulder. I lifted her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “You’re starting to want more. Hope is plastered all over your little face despite me making it very clear I was just looking for a fuck. Apparently, that’s too much for you, so find a new wing of the house to clean.”
“I’m sorry. I swear I’ll be good,”she nearly begged. Part of me, my cock mostly, wanted to see how much more I could make her beg. However, unlike most men, I wasn’t ruled by my cock.
“Do you know how many women who have told me something along the same lines. All of you keep thinking you’re special. That somehow, I’ll magically see we are meant to be together. That your pussy is divine and will make me see the light the more we fuck. The truth is, you aren’t special. You just happened to be in my room while I was horny. I will never think we are meant to be together, and your pussy is so far from divine, it might as well be in hell. Though I’ll give you credit, your mouth was nice. Which is why I let you in my bed more than once. But that’s done. So, clear your head of any silly fantasies.” I held her chin, and she stared at me unable to speak. “And get the hell out of my room!”
She jumped away from me and dashed to the door, taking her leave. It was only when she was gone that I felt like I could breathe again. I grabbed my bed kit before moving to my bathroom. I took the bandage off my shoulder, and a whole rush of memories engulfed my mind. I could feel her long fingers on my shoulder.
“God-fucking-damn it!” I hollered, slamming my fist on the kitchen counter. I thought screwing the maid would help...instead I found myself imagining her? Why? Why the hell? Out of nowhere was I thinking of her like this? She was drunk.
But she’d always been the most honest when she was drunk. That’s why…that’s why I wanted her to drink.
“Fuck me,” I grumbled to myself, picking up the alcohol to clean my wound. This was all my fucking fault. I made a mistake. And because of that mistake, I went to her. I wanted her to stop being angry, so I tried to make her talk it out by giving her wine…and she did talk it out. Too much in fact. But it was my own goddamn fault for doing this.
“But why am I always pushing her?” The question came out of my mouth before I even realized it. I looked at my reflection, as if that was going to help. Instead, I just saw how pitiful I looked.
Putting another bandage on, I covered my shoulder wound, sealing over it with tape. I turned on the shower, stepping in under the hot water, inhaling the steam. I’m always pushing her. I’m always pushing myself for her. Just like the memory I recalled. Ethan thought it was a bad idea to cause a scene at our Uncle Neal’s wedding anniversary back when I was eleven, but I told him I’d do it alone and make sure he got in trouble anyway. I wanted to get Darcy and Sedric in on it, too, but he told me not to go overboard. Back then I didn’t know I was going overboard. I wanted everyone to know and everyone to be just as angry as I was. Was I wrong? Was I going beyond my role as her cousin then? I killed to bring her back home. If it wasn’t Helen, would I have done the same thing? Yes! If it was Dona I would have—but when my father sent her to boarding school, I hadn’t really fought him. When Gabriel came I was pissed, I wanted her to stay, but I didn’t go to the extreme. With Helen, I’m always forcing her to stay with me. I even made sure to help her open a company in Boston so she’d have to stay.
Why?
What did this mean?
Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed two towels, tying one around my waist before drying my head with one hand. As I headed back into my bedroom, I saw one of the last people I wanted to see waiting—
