Vicious Minds: Part 1: Children of Vice #4

by McAvoy, J. J. ;

  “Join me in insanity, then.”

  A smile crept onto her face and she twisted back, kissing me. The other reason for this crazy plan was one I didn’t need to say…I wanted her by my side already.

  One more year, I thought as I enjoyed the taste of her mouth. Breaking away I kissed down her neck, down the space between her breasts before laying her back and lifting her legs high, resting them on my shoulders.

  “Where is it you said you wanted my lips?”

  Before she could answer I brought my face between her thighs, letting my stubbled cheek tease her soft skin. Spreading the folds of her pussy, I let my tongue drive her mad this time.

  Chapter 15

  “An Italian proverb says, in men every mortal sin is venial; in woman every venial sin is mortal.”

  ~George Augustus Henry Sala

  Calliope - AGE 26

  Chicago, Illinois

  Tuesday, August 15th

  I was trying my hardest not say I told him so, but the look of horror on his face as he watched the screen was hilarious.

  “How do you want to kill her?” he finally asked, remembering our bet.

  “Are you asking so you can imagine it and calm the urge to kill her yourself?” I took a bite of my kettle corn.

  “Exactly,” he muttered, unable to look away from the screen. “How the fuck is she worse Klarissa? How?”

  I tried, I really did, but I couldn’t hold back anymore, and I laughed. I laughed so hard I had to put down my wine so it wouldn’t spill. He glared at me, unamused. “What? I think she’s cute.”

  “She’s a fucking twat! How the hell am I supposed to pretend to be so fucking in love with that?” He pointed to the woman on the screen currently being carried away in what looked like a straight jacket. She screamed bloody murder and looked like a beat up old rag doll with blonde scruffy hair.

  “Now calm down,” I said with a very wide grin, “a little soap and water, along with a nice flat iron and she’ll look like third runner up at the local Miss Illinois Sweet Corn Festival.” I had to stop myself from laughing by taking a sip of my wine.

  “Fuck her looks, Calliope. I don’t give a shit if she’s a goddamn skinhead—”

  “You have black and Asian cousins; you should care about that one,” I cut in, knowing at this point he was ready to kill me.

  He took a deep breath and tried once more to reason with me.

  “We need her to be smart. That…” He pointed to the screen. “That is not a look of a smart person. We offered her a fucking get out of jail free card yesterday and the idiot just decided to curse our goddamn family.”

  “It’s a new day; let’s see what she has to say today,” I said, gesturing at the screen. He glared at me and I gave it right back, making my eyes wide so he’d realize I wanted to see this.

  He sighed again before taking a seat in the hotel arm chair beside me. I grabbed the remote, skipping to from yesterday’s video to today. There Evelyn sat in the little visitors booth, scrolling through her phone.

  “Sending Evelyn was a good choice. Dona would have killed her and told you to try again.” I snickered, taking another bite of the kettle corn in front of me.

  “You know this isn’t a reality TV show, right? This is our lives, correct? Your key to coming out of the shadows is everything falling into place as planned.”

  I tore my eyes from the screen and looked to him. “Why are you so damn restless today? Shit. Yes, she’s dimwitted. But we knew that was a possibility. Hell, I was pretty much sure of it. We are at the finish line, Ethan. Even if she fucks up totally, between you and I, don’t you think we can find another way?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am quite done with looking like a fool, Calliope. We made this agreement to set a trap for my parents and now we’ve found ourselves trying to domesticate jailbirds. The very thought of people thinking I would choose her, the fact that I sent my grandmother to fetch her in prison, is a bigger embarrassment to my family than I thought.”

  “You’re getting cranky in your old age,” I teased and poured him a glass of wine.

  “In what world is 27…28 old age?” He took the glass from me.

  “Mafia years,” I shot back and he grinned before drinking. Looking at the screen, I settled back in my chair.

  “What do you think she’ll say today?” I asked him, watching as they brought Ms. Ivy O’Davoren into the room.

  “So, they gave up on the black man and sent a grandmamma to try and get me to sign my soul away. It ain’t happening. Guard!” she yelled the moment she saw Evelyn at which Ethan just shook his head and drank.

  The guard paid her no attention. He simply walked over to Evelyn with a teacup.

  “I’m sorry, we had no cream,” Jimmy said in the politest voice I’d ever heard. “Is there anything else I can get you, Mrs. Callahan?”

  Upon hearing her called Mrs. Callahan, Ivy’s blonde head whipped back to look at her. In a blink of an eye she lunged towards Evelyn, and I heard glass shatter beside me.

  I looked over to Ethan who was now holding the broken glass his hand. His jaw was tight and eyes deadly as he glared at the screen.

  “Did she just try to attack my grandmother?” He wasn’t really asking; he was in a state of disbelief. Taking the napkin, I reached over and cleaned his hand. Luckily, he hadn’t cut himself enough to bleed.

  “I’m killing her,” he said as he picked up shards of glass.

  “I won the bet,” I reminded him, going back to my snack. “You are so dramatic sometimes.”

  “You’re starting to sound condescending.” His voice was as cold as death. I watched him for a moment and then ignored him. I loved him, but Ethan was just like his daughter…just like me. Sometimes we got cranky when we didn’t get what we wanted as soon as we wanted it. He was both looking forward to this moment and also dreading it. Having to go this far, having to pretend with her…he hated it more than I did, and it made me love and trust him more, even though he cared more about how it made him and his family look than how it made me feel.

  “Don’t speak. You only make yourself look imprudent,” Evelyn snapped at her on screen before putting the tablet down in the middle of the table.

  I ate and watched as her soul broke in half. I wished I could zoom in so I could see her face clearly. It truly was like watching someone from the inside out. I’ve never seen such a thing happen to a person without certain drugs; it was interesting. “Wow...she truly trusted her family.”

  “It’s not a bad choice for most people,” Ethan added, a bit calmer now. “However, if she thought about it sooner, she would have put it together herself.”

  “She didn’t want to think about it. She’d rather rot than be betrayed,” I said, disgusted with her. “She was amusing at first, her grit, her fighting, but now seeing how much of a broken little puppy she is. I’m no longer interested.”

  “Speaking of puppies,” he said, getting my attention, “you got Gigi two?”

  I nodded happily. “Aren’t they cute? They have same eyes as her. I told her I found them, but I had them crossbred.”

  “Why?”

  “So, she knows something living that looks like her.”

  He frowned. “You’re afraid she’s going to get bullied and you decided it was best to throw her a softball and make her feel good?”

  I turned fully in my chair to look at him. “I’m sorry, are we about to have a parenting dispute right now?”

  “You should have talked to me—”

  “I got our daughter puppies because I fucking wanted her to have pets. They are a good way to teach a child discipline and responsibility. Furthermore, those pets are not going stay cute little furry puppies; they are going to be bigger and stronger than Alaskan timber wolves. Have you seen what an Alaskan timber wolf can do to a man? Not pretty. They are weapons she’s going to learn how to control. I, out of the kindness of my mommy heart, added the eye colors as a small gift for our daughter. Now where is it yo
u want to start this fight?” I asked him, putting my wine down.

  “At least let us have the fight before you end it.”

  I smiled. “Or we could skip the fighting altogether and you can agree with me.”

  “Keep dreaming,” he answered. “Nevertheless, at least tell me beforehand. Just because I’m not there does not mean I don’t want to know about what is going on.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  He gave me a look, but it was interrupted by the voice on the screen. “Seven years ago, I told you vengeance knows no boundaries and has no expiration date. I still believe that. So, watch your front became I’ll be out real soon.”

  “Looks like she’s in.” I nodded, turning off the feed.

  “It seems so,” he said, sending a text message. “I have people in the jail that will watch out for her for now, and when she’s out Nari can fix her, preferably better than the third runner up at the local Miss Illinois Sweet Corn Festival.”

  I laughed at that again. “With the work she’ll need you’ll most likely not see her until your birthday.”

  “I’m so heartbroken,” he muttered, sending out another text.

  “Now it’s up to you,” I said, drawing his attention. “You have to make them truly believe you’ve fallen for her, or that you’ve always loved her. The more they believe it, the better for us.”

  “If she doesn’t talk much. I’ll just replace her face with yours,” he said nonchalantly as if he didn’t just complain about how he couldn’t act with her.

  “And Klarissa?”

  “She won’t live to see next Monday, I swear it, especially after the line she crossed,” he replied clenching his fist.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of it? This might scare your new fiancée away.”

  His eyes were stern, and all humor was gone as he spoke directly to me. “Do not lower yourself for this. It was my oversight. There is only so much embarrassment you or I can take before we start firing at each other.”

  I put my bowl of kettle down on the centerpiece. “I’m glad you know. If it is not handled—”

  “Do you not trust me?”

  “Fine. I’m going to go take a shower before I catch my flight to Boston.” I stretched as I got up from the chair, cracking my back. “You should head back.”

  He nodded, getting up and taking his jacket already walking towards the door. I could tell he was beginning to plot already. He didn’t look back at me which was a bit irritating.

  “Ethan,” I called to him when his hand reached for the doorknob. He paused, looking back to me, confused. “Vieni qui e baciami. (Come here and kiss me.).”

  His eyebrow rose but he didn’t argue. He came to me and I reached up grabbing his dark hair as he kissed me and like always, his hands drifted down to my ass, cupping it. When we broke apart, his hand was still there. He glanced down at me with heated eyes and he reached up to undo the first button of my shirt.

  “I have a flight to catch,” I told him.

  “I’ll get you a new one. Ti voglio (I want you.),” he told me. I hesitated, but realized it might be a while before we’d get another chance.

  Taking his hand, I led him towards the bedroom. I was most definitely missing that flight.

  Sunday, August 20th

  As I watched the sky fill with black smoke, as I listened to them scream and watched them run for safety, I found myself wondering for what had to be the millionth time if I was bipolar. All the tests said no, but the ease with which I shifted from one extreme to the other was often baffling me to. When I asked my grandfather if he thought it was odd too, he just laughed at me.

  He said, “Calliope, you are an Italian woman, extremes are the only language you all have in common.”

  He was so amused I’d asked. I was only twelve at the time, but I truly thought he was going to give me a lecture on all the ways in which Italian woman were crazy. Instead he told me no matter how smart I was, no matter how well I could scheme, or strong I was, I would never be able to tame my emotions. It was just not in my DNA. I thought he was being dramatic and ignored him. Over last few years I’d noticed he was right, absolutely one hundred percent correct, so I didn’t really try to reason with the unreasonable part of myself anymore.

  “HELP!”

  “SOMEONE CALL FOR HELP!”

  “CALL 911!”

  The people on the sidewalk with me all panicked as they watched the church across the street burn. I clicked the button on my keychain again.

  BOOM!

  “OH MY GOD!”

  “Is it a terrorist attack?”

  “Where is it coming from?” they all questioned, and I just stood behind them with my hand over my mouth as if I was mortified. More people stumbled out, tripping over themselves and each other. I noticed Donatella being dragged out by the lapdog, Tobias. Her dark hair flying out around her head. I frowned at that. She looked very undignified. I understood it was an emergency, but she still ought to have some decorum in public, no?

  Now where is Ethan? che cazzo è? (what the fuck is this?) I thought as I watched him coming out carrying the jailbird as if she was a fucking princess. My annoyance only rose as the people on the sidewalk with me took photos and videos as he got her into the Range Rover.

  “ETHAN!” Dona, who struggled in Toby’s arms, screamed until he picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder, and she didn’t seem to fucking care that all them were apparently channeling their inner 1990s Disney prince.

  “NANA! ETHAN! NANA!” she yelled, pointing to the building.

  He slammed the door, already turning to rush back in and be the hero. Luckily, Greyson came out holding on to Evelyn, her arms extremely burned.

  Note to self: when I join this family, have a fire survival plan.

  The ambulance was already there and Ethan stood guard as Mrs. Callahan was loaded in. He looked stunned as he stared down at her. When the doors closed it seemed to snap him out of it and he blinked, looking away. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe it was my karma, but his eyes locked with mine…and despite the changes in my appearance, he could recognize me. His head tilted to the side as if to question, as if he could not believe it.

  I nodded. Yes, it was me. I bombed your church.

  His nose flared, and his fist clenched.

  Looked like I was in trouble.

  “Sir!” Greyson rushed to him.

  I couldn’t hear what Ethan asked him, but he didn’t look away from me. So I mouthed slowly, “Don’t break character, boss. Your people are watching and listening.”

  I turned and looked away from him, pulling out my phone and dialing. “911 what’s your emergency?”

  “I’m in front of St. Peter’s Cathedral, there are so many people hurt we need people down here!” I sobbed into the phone as I walked down the street.

  “Calm down, ma’am, we have help on the way.”

  “Please hurry! Oh my god!” I sniffed, stopping at the corner as Ethan’s Range Rover turned the corner in front of me. I looked directly at Ivy, whose blonde hair was covered in dirt and blood, but she had no idea who I was as they sped by.

  “Can you see how many people—”

  I hung up and dropped my phone in the street and it slid down into the gutter. Casually crossing the street, I didn’t even bother worrying about the camera. One thing I loved about Chicago was how unproductive the city government was; that camera had been dead since last week. I bet they’ll fix it now.

  Ethan - AGE 28

  Chicago, Illinois

  Sunday, August 20th

  She’d lost her mind.

  It was either that or she betrayed me but if that was the case then she wouldn’t have done such an obvious manner, nor would she have failed.

  So obviously she’d lost her goddamn mind. I tried calling and messaging for well over two hours. Which meant I had no fucking way to find her and kill…and speak to her. Although killing her was looking very possible at the moment.

  Calliope y
ou— My thoughts were interrupted by the single message on my phone.

  “Morgue #3”

  I glanced over to Ivy who was somehow able to bloody nap while my life was on fire. Part of me wished she’d died in the motherfucking blast too…everyone, in fact. I was fucking done with every-goddamn-body.

  Rising from my chair I stepped out of the room and Greyson looked to me waiting for my direction. Tobias was still not here, he was most likely with Donatella.

  “Let no one in. I have something I need to handle,” I ordered, walking towards the elevators. The guards pressed the button for me and I got on alone. I took it down to the second level before getting off on that floor. Looking around I found the damn stairs, everyone was too busy with the onslaught of bodies to even notice me. I walked down white stairs and was assaulted by the overwhelming smell of disinfectant. No one was there, which must have been because all the coroners were called to my fucking church to collect her damn victims.

  “Tough day?” she asked, sitting opposite the door right in front of a bagged body. She was dressed in a slim fit black suit, a lace bralette underneath, which normally would have made her stand out even more, if it weren’t for the large diamond-studded crocodiles she wore as necklace, one biting the other. They matched her black heels. She wasn’t disguised either, not like earlier.

  I was confused, but right now her appearance did not matter. “You bombed my church.”

  “I did, did you catch my scapegoats?” she asked, nonchalantly rising from the chair and placing her hands her pockets.

  Now I was irritated with whatever fucking show she was putting on.

  “You bombed my church, Calliope!” I snapped at her since she didn’t seem to understand. “You bombed my fucking church while I and my family were still inside.”

  “For the third time, yes I did.”

  “Fucking explain yourself before I—”

  “Before you do what?” she asked, an eyebrow raised. “Grab me by the throat? Sorry, I don’t have time for kinky play today.”