by J. J. McAvoy
“Yes,” Mel stated, her eyes cold. “The Roman Empire did fall, and yet we Italians still have all the glory. The very suits you wear, the shoes on your feet, are made from where?” she trailed off. “You are not powerful unless you have something Italian.”
I rolled my eyes. “Your ego right now—”
“What was the name of that car you were trying to buy?”
“Ferrari En…” Declan trailed off when my father smacked him in the back of his head for me before returning to his book, not saying a word.
“It’s not ego when you state the truth.”
Mel smiled as she lay back in her chair. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes once more. The headaches were becoming more and more frequent with each passing day.
It had taken us another week after Harvey’s death to finally get everything ready to leave. It would have taken only three days had I not forced my wife to see a doctor. I was damn near ready to give her a CAT scan myself. I needed to know she was okay. That this was just a phase. It was only after I had brought the doctor to our house that she finally agreed.
She and the baby were fine, he had said. I shouldn’t worry according to him. But how could I not when the woman I barely ever saw grimace couldn’t even hold her head up after a few hours?
“Stop looking at me like that. I’m fine, I saw your damn doctor. Your kid is just fucking with my mind before it’s born,” she said with her eyes closed.
I snorted. “How did he become mine all of a sudden?”
Her eyes snapped open. “He? I’m sorry, did you and God have a private conversation without me?”
“There was no need. God knows there is no way in hell I could mentally handle a girl right now. Nor does he want to watch the chaos that would unfold when I’m unable to tell a small girl no,” I replied as my father and brother laughed.
“You’re a narcissistic asshole,” she snapped at me.
“You knew that when you married me.” I winked at her.
“Well, aren’t you both cute?” Declan snickered under his breath, causing both Mel and myself to freeze, however, for two completely different reasons.
She stared at me and I could feel her blood boiling.
“Your cousin just called me ‘cute.”
Here we go.
Grabbing her water bottle, she threw it across the aisle at his face.
“I’m going to go lie down before I kill you and drop you somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.” she barked in his face, trying to stand quickly only to stumble forward.
Both my father and I stood at the same time, reaching to grab hold of her. But she pushed us both of away.
“URGH! This kid is trying to kill me! I can’t walk straight. I can’t think straight. I have no control of my own damn body! And now I have people calling me cute. Like I’m a fucking puppy!” she sneered at me, pushing me aside in order to continue on her way. “I am Melody Giovanni Callahan, cute is not the adjective used to describe me!”
And with that, she slammed the door to the room. Leaving everyone else but my mother and I a little confused.
“This is why we can’t fly commercial,” my mother whispered, shaking her head at us.
“What did I say?” Declan asked, making me want to smack the fucking shit out of him.
“You called one of the leaders of the Irish and Italian mob cute,” my mother informed the stupid fucking idiot that was supposed to be my older cousin. “While she’s pregnant. Mel doesn’t want to be treated differently, nor does she want to lose the respect just because she’s sharing her body. She’s going to torture you for this.”
Not only him.
Part of me was enjoying my soft wife. Melody seemed relaxed and the fact that she was almost always in the mood for sex, which wasn’t really different from when she was cold, was a plus. We even cuddled. She told me she loved me before going to sleep. She was being sweet to me, and the family. To the rest of the men, Mel was kind of a raging hormonal bitch though. They never knew if she was smiling because she was happy or because she was planning to cut off a man’s thumb.
“Should I check on her since Adriana isn’t here?” Coraline asked, looking at the door.
“Yes, because my wife would love to be ‘checked up’ on.” She liked Coraline, but she may shoot her one day.
Shaking my head at her, I looked towards the man who stood slightly in the corner in front of the mini bar. He didn’t seem shocked at the insanity that was our family. Mel had told me his name, but I kept forgetting he was even around…I didn’t trust that.
“Your name,” I demanded, drawing everyone’s attention to the small server. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who forgot he was on board.
He took a step forward. “Nelson Reed.”
“You’re on my plane because…?”
He tried to remain calm, but I could see the nervousness building. “I’ve flown with Mrs. Callahan before, and Ms. Angelia…”
Before he could finish, Mel stomped out, not bothering to look at any of us. Instead, she turned to Reed, who quickly turned and prepared her tea within seconds. Handing it to her, he spoke, “I’m scared shitless of you, ma’am.”
She nodded, glaring at me. “Leave my people alone, yours tick me off.”
I’m not going to make it. Throw me out of the plane now.
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose as I stood. Then, I followed her into the room.
Before entering, I stopped in front of the worm. “Kiss up to my wife again, and I will rip your lips from your face.”
His eyes widened and he nodded quickly as I stepped in.
There, sitting in middle of the bed with her pinky sticking out as she drank her tea like the damn queen of England, was my wife. The room was small of course. It was only meant for short naps; the bed took up the whole fucking room. However, as she sat there, she glanced at me while sipping away, and I wasn’t sure what to do with her. She was driving me insane! If I argued with her, I would lose and only piss her off. I wasn’t sure if she was rational enough not to shoot me thirty thousand feet in the air. I couldn’t calmly speak to her without her thinking I was speaking down to her.
“Mel…”
“I’m going to be a horrible mother,” she said out of nowhere. “I feel it. I’m angry and annoyed with it all the time. I keep wishing I wasn’t pregnant because then I could think straight, and my head wouldn’t hurt. My skin itches, and the nosebleeds…”
“Itchy skin and nosebleeds? What the fuck, when did this happen?” I asked, taking a seat at the side of the bed.
She rolled her eyes, put her cup on the side table. “It’s not uncommon, I talked to the doctor about it. He said it should ease in a few weeks. And I quote, ‘your body is adjusting. The baby is fine.’ I’m not. What if I’m like her? What if I did this to her and that’s why…”
“Stop,” I snapped. “Women long before you or your mother have had difficult pregnancies. None of them turned out like your mother. She is…”
“She is my mother and we share DNA. I could be—”
“You are NOT like her!” I yelled, causing her to pull away from me to roll onto her side and stare at the wall.
God, this is Liam Callahan. I’ve sinned but do not punish me like this, I prayed.
Flipping onto the bed, I grabbed hold of her, pulling her towards me. She, being my wife, fought of course, but I would not let up.
“Liam let—”
“I did not chain you up to a bed. You do not have a lover I’m amputating body parts from in the basement…but if you ever did…”
“Liam,” she smiled.
I continued. “We both chose this. We are probably the most truthful couple on the face of the planet. Whatever caused your mother to be what she is has nothing to do with your fate. You love me.”
“Narcissistic asshole,” she muttered.
Smirking again, I kissed her shoulder. “And I love you…our kid is going to be happy because despite it all, we’re happy.”
“Your sappiness is killing me slowly,” she replied, as she rubbed her stomach and placed her head on my chest.
She’s back.
“It’s part of my charm, and I will need you to find your charm when we land,” I reminded her. The bed creaked and rocked as though we were on a ship and not in the sky. Propping her head up, she sighed.
“Figured,” she said. “How many of those loyal men did Shamus have?”
Too many.
“The Callahans are from the Irish hillside, and for decades our family has taken care of all the people within our town. From my great grandfather, to Shamus…”
“But not Sedric.”
“Not Sedric.” I nodded. “The people there are loyal to our family, but they feel as though he betrayed them by leaving and never coming back. I sent a few of the men ahead of us, but if we want to find out anything, we cannot go as aggressors. They most likely hate us for the death of Shamus, but can’t do anything because we are still Callahans. We find out what we need to know, we don’t kill anyone, and we leave.”
“Says the man with anger management issues.”
“I do not have—” I stopped when she grinned. “If people didn’t always make me angry, there would be no reason for management.”
“Anyway,” she said as she rolled her eyes, “we go to your homeland, be nice to the locals and what, they just hand over the Briars?”
“Yes.”
“That is going to last about ten minutes before one of us snaps.”
MELODY
The moment we stepped out of the plane I felt Liam’s body stiffen at the sight of not one, but five beat up old mystery-machine buses parked in front of our Range Rovers. We had taken a smaller plane from Dublin to the hills in order to cut our time on the road and keep our location a secret until we arrived. The private pasture we landed in wasn’t so private.
Dylan, Antonio, Monte and Fedel looked like they were standing on coils and trying to pretend as though they weren’t.
Somebody was going to get killed if they stayed this tense.
Why did that only make me want to smile? We didn’t want to start a war, but shooting the Irish was what we Italians did…or at least what the Giovannis did. Orlando used to say it was like putting down a wild dog.
“Old Man Doyle,” Liam called out as we approached the hairy man who stood leaned against the bus smoking his pipe.
Old Man Doyle didn’t look much older than Sedric. He was so young in fact, that he looked like he had just now started to get grey hairs, which were entwined with the reddish brown ones. His beard was thick though, and I wanted nothing more than to hold him down and shave it off his face.
He didn’t reply, he just smoked, blowing it out as though we had all the time in the world for his foolishness. One of his men—I guessed—stepped forward, blocking my view of the chain-smoking idiot.
He glared at me before turning to Liam. “Welcome to Ireland, you cocktrough bellgeg caffler.” He spat at our feet. “Now take your foucking Italian cunt, and your foucking family, and get the fouck out of our country.”
I just broke out in laughter, startling all of them. Turning to Liam, who had to be biting his tongue, I shook my head.
“When I said ‘that’s going to last ten minutes’, I apparently meant five,” I said, as I turned to face the dead man walking.
I always wore heels because it made it easier to threaten people when you didn’t have to look up, however, seeing as how I could no longer walk, I was going to have to look up this man’s nose hairs.
“Call me a cunt again, I dare you. And I will pull your tongue from your ass…or is it arse? So take your foucking face and bad breath and bugger off, because we both know you can’t do shit,” I told him.
“Looks like the Italian cunt…”
Before Doyle’s man could finish, a bullet went through his foot and Liam took a step forward, pulling me to his side as the man screamed. Guns went up, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Declan and Sedric put Evelyn and Coraline in the car.
“She warned you.” Liam sighed. I knew he didn’t want this, but we sure as hell couldn’t allow this to fly either. It was better to put a stop to it now.
“Enough,” Old Man Doyle said, pushing off the bus. “Aren’t you tired of putting bullets in your own kind, Callahan?”
“Shamus killed himself like a coward.” I said.
An amused Declan added, “It was a bullet though.”
None of them found it funny. Old Man Doyle blew the smoke through his nose as his jaw tensed.
“Is that the lie you’re all telling? Shamus offed himself? You must think us the king of fools. Shamus was kin,” he sneered at Liam, who shrugged.
“My kin. Not yours. The affairs amongst my family do not concern you,” Liam said. “As my wife said, as my father said weeks ago; Shamus took his own life. I want to know why, and we think the Briars holds the key to that. That is all. Point me in the right direction, keep your dogs on their leashes, and the Callahan fortune will still flow through the town as it always has. Your wives don’t want to bury their husbands and children, so step down and be the lesser but alive man.”
He spit at the ground in front of us before turning back to his beat-up old bus, which Mr. Foucking was using for support.
“You have a week, Callahan, and then we want you gone. Or else.” They got into their cars, leaving us standing there among blood stained grass.
“Have you lost your fucking mind Melody? What happened to charm?” Liam roared.
“Foucking Liam. Foucking we’re in Ireland, try to fit in.” I smiled before walking to the car.
Damn my feet hurt.
LIAM
I could feel my eyebrow twitching as I watched her walk away from me.
“I enjoy her when she’s pregnant. She’s absolutely hilarious.” My father laughed, stepping up right beside me.
“Would you like a bullet through your foot as well?” I yelled, waving my gun at him. “It’s like she’s fucking high.”
“Foucking, brother,” Declan said, watching the men as they finished loading all our things. “You have to admit, she was charming. They may not have shown it, but they were all surprised by her, some lusted—”
“Finish that sentence and I will actually have to kill my kinsmen,” I hissed, leaving them both laughing. I could see them both drunk off their asses for the rest of this trip.
Ripping the door open, Mel’s brown eyes snapped up to me. She stared at me as if she were shocked I came into the car. Noticing the stream of text messages that were buzzing in, I sat down.
“What?”
“The President was just assassinated, and not by us.”
Foucking Christ, can’t I get a break.
SEVENTEEN
“The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.”
—Gloria Steinem
NEAL
Walking into Liam and Mel’s office, I tried my best not to groan at the phone call awaiting me. All of Chicago was basically scared shitless while the rest of the damn country was in mourning. Of all the places the President could have been gunned down, why the fuck did it have to be here?
Pulling off my tie, I dropped it onto the desk before I took a seat. It was odd looking at this office—my father’s and now Liam’s—from this position. I had never noticed how cluttered and dark the study was. Everything here, from the cherry wood desk, to the bookshelves that covered both walls, and even the small bar stocked with Liam’s Brandy along with Mel’s wine, was vintage. The dark leather chair my ass now graced was brought in from Italy as if my mother knew years ago an Italian would be siting in it.
“Power looks good on you, baby,” Olivia called from the doors, pulling me out of my own thoughts.
I leaned back to stare at her. “Really? Do I have my grey hairs yet?”
“Neal, they’ve only been gone for a week,” she replied, walking over to me and seductively playing with the pearls around
her neck. She looked dangerous in black; it seemed to bounce up into her blue eyes and brew storms.
“Only a week and the President gets wacked in our city, meaning we can’t operate with the feds tearing this city apart for the killer.” Which meant moving our products just got harder. The bosses were going to be pissed.
“Babe, President Monroe is not the first President to be assassinated,” she supposed, stepping behind me in order to rub my shoulders. “I’m sure the feds already have a suspect. Mel and Liam—”
She was cut off the moment the phone rang and I knew who it was.
“Speak of the devil,” she said.
I picked up the phone. “Hell—”
“Neal, could you please explain what you’re doing?” Mel’s voice rang out softly through the phone. So soft in fact I wasn’t sure if I should be worried or rearranging my will again.
“Boss, Chicago is on lock down. There’s a massive manhunt going on, and every hour more and more police officers are coming in all throughout the country.” I waited for her to speak, but she said nothing.
“It isn’t wise to move product right now. The shipment through the dock has been taken care of already, but there is no way we can get them out to the dealers right now…”
“What about Senator Colemen?” she asked. Again, still calm; still freaking me out.
Glancing to Olivia who only shrugged, I told her the truth, “As far as I know, Mina’s working on another statement, but he’s fine.”
“He’s fine?” she repeated before taking a deep breath.
Oh shit.
“He’s shouldn’t be fucking fine!” she snapped. “He is nowhere close to fine! Why? Because as far as I know, people are sympathetic, brainless, parasites who jump from one host to another!”
“Um, what?” What in the hell was she talking about?
“You idiot. Turn on the news!”
Turning on the computer, Olivia went to a live stream of the First Lady.
She looked tired but energized; odd seeing as how her husband was just murdered in front of the whole nation, if not world.
