by J. J. McAvoy
“HEY!”
“Go to your own room!” Geez. The only person who could ever get away with this was Helen. My certificated genius, fast-talking, nauseatingly beautiful, computer nerd, comic, manga, anime, all things Netflix loving cousin, Helen. If your last name was Callahan, you were not normal. However, the least normal among us all was Helen. Because we were so close in age, and grew up surrounded by boys, we grew up as close as sisters. She was weird not because she was both a beauty and the geek but because she was like sunshine. Nothing really darkened her mood…and she had plenty to be depressed about. But nope, she went on as if she hardly noticed any of the negativity; it was fucking weird.
“Your bed is more comfortable,” she yawned as she lifted my sheets up and hopped right in next to me.
“We have the same type of bed! Ah! You’re cold, Helen!” I yelled, trying to kick her away.
But she curled up right beside me. “It’s your fault!”
“How? How in the hell is me trying to sleep in my own damn bed the reason you are—”
“You killed Tobias,” she whispered, and I went still… It was like I’d forgotten and then remembered all over again. I stared up at the wooden canopy of my bed. “I’ve been gone for only a month… I was supposed to just pop back into the city to say hi, yes I’m still alive if anyone was wondering before leaving again. I’d even gotten all dressed up, when I got word from Wyatt about what happened… I gave up Fall Con for you, Dona, you should feel honored.”
Trying not to smile, I rolled to my side to face her, her big brown eyes staring directly into mine as she smiled back.
“Helen, I’m…”
“You killed Tobias.”
I sighed; “Yes, I did.”
“You liked Tobias.”
“I like myself more.”
“So, you feel nothing?” she asked me gently.
I thought for a moment and I even tried to feel something but the truth was, “No. It’s—Tobias, was …”
“Accessible,” she tried to speak for me.
“Not what I needed,” I corrected.
“Because he was going to betray Ethan?”
“No…” I yawned, not wanting to go on. “I actually enjoyed that he had the balls to do it.”
“Ugh… Dona,” she groaned, rolling on to her back. “Are we chastising him or defending him, I’m confused!”
“Certificated genius, right here,” I joked.
“Shut up!”
“Ah!” She elbowed me right in my healing tattoo which her eyes immediately focused on.
“Oh shit, sorry! You got a tattoo? Without me? I want one!”
“You’d love it for about a week before complaining forever,” I reminded her and she thought about it for a moment before nodding.
“That’s true.”
I laughed and so did she. We laughed until our sides hurt even though nothing was funny.
“We are chastising him,” I finally answered her question, speaking much softer now. “Not for being calculating, or power hungry, not even for betraying Ethan…the family, but claiming to love me without knowing me…thinking I was simply okay with being his prize.”
She yawned covering her mouth before saying; “But didn’t you want to be Ethan? You know, the Ceann na Conairte… If so, you kinda missed your chance there.”
“Be Ethan, no. Never.” I snorted at that. “Be the Ceann na Conairte… I should be.”
“There’s never been a female Ceann na Conairte…not even your mother took that title.”
“Never does not mean impossible; it means not yet.”
Now she snorted, a habit we both got from our Uncle Neal, “The line of succession is Ethan, Wyatt, Uncle Neal, cousin Sedric, then my dad, and my brother; you’d have to wipe out all the men in our family, and even then you would go from hell fucking never to maybe in your dreams… That is if Nari and I don’t kill you for killing our dads and brothers, or you don’t kill yourself for the same reason.”
I froze, not moving as she spoke the reality I’d kept myself from facing, the reason I had to walk back the edge. The reason why I couldn’t betray family even if I wanted to, because the only way I could be the Ceann na Conairte was if I killed them all. She figured it out. I figured it out. Ethan knew from the beginning…again. Which was why he’d felt so comfortable leaving me in charge.
“Dona?”
Focusing on her again, I could see the concern in her brown eyes… I didn’t need or want her worry. So, a manufactured smile came on my face as I teased her back, “I wouldn’t have to kill Sedric or your brother Darcy, because the Irish would gladly make me Ceann na Conairte over an Asian or black kid any day.”
“HEY!” she sat up like Dracula from the grave, “First! I’ll have you know the Irish are way more tolerant people today and there is a huge growing population of black people in Ireland! Secondly, Irish guys love me. Third, Darcy and Sedric are biracial and I take offense on their behalf.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I was shocked they didn’t come out of my head. “We aren’t talking about the Irish people; we are talking about the Irish mob - there is a difference. We aren’t talking about the very best of us, now are we?”
“Says the sister of the head of the Irish mob,” she muttered, falling back down on the pillows. “I’m just saying that…You love your family.”
She said that as if she were silently begging me never to forget it. As if she still wasn’t sure where the line between teasing and reality ended.
“Which is why I didn’t betray anyone… Now shut up and sleep, goddamn it! And move your foot before I chop it off!”
She pretended to snore even though I knew she wasn’t asleep. I left her alone and stared up at the ceiling of my room. I had arranged for a wakeup call to be sent at four, but it seemed like I wasn’t going to get any sleep now anyway. When Helen’s snoring become softer and deeper, I sat up, rubbing the back of my neck as I rose to my feet. I grabbed my cellphone as I walked into my bathroom, the lights turning on automatically.
Turning the faucet on, I splashed the water on my face, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly before looking at my reflection the mirror. I vaguely took note that my dark hair was getting frizzy, that my ivory white skin looked a little dry. Yet my eyes, my green eyes, were the only thing that really captured my attention…maybe because they reminded me of my father’s.
“If not for those eyes, I’d think your mother created you all by herself,” he used to say to tease me. And when I’d say whatever smartass reply back, he’d laugh and say, “You’re my kid alright.”
I wish he knew how much strength his jokes gave me.
I wish he knew that each time I looked at myself in the mirror, I remembered… I am the daughter of Liam Alec Callahan, which meant one thing:
“I am a victim of nothing and no one,” I said, standing up straighter. Taking the perfectly folded white towel from the basket beside me and drying my face, I pressed the green key on the touchscreen mounted on my bathroom wall.
“Good morning, ma’am.” O’Phelan appeared on the screen, already dressed for the morning.
I smirked at him. “I’m now convinced you are a vampire, O’Phelan.”
“I assure you, ma’am, I have enough gray hairs to prove I am not.”
I smiled at that, placing the towel back on the counter. “The welcome home brunch in honor of Wyatt today; I do not need to remind you how important it is, do I?”
“No, ma’am.” He lifted a notepad beside him. “I’ve already arranged for the yard to be prepared as per your direction by 7am this morning. The food will be out by 9:30. Guests arrive at ten.”
“The clothes?”
“Arrived last night; they’ve been steamed and arranged. The maids will send them out by eight, along with further assistance for Mrs. Callahan, should she want it.”
“Do not disappoint me today, O’Phelan.” I was already dialing on my phone. “I’m every bit as meticulous as my grandmother.”
I paused, looking back at the small screen to see the corners of his lips turned up into a smile; “Two jokes before the sun is up, O’Phelan; you must be very sure everything today will proceed flawlessly. I guess time will tell.”
“Would you like some assistance getting ready this morning?” He switched the subject seamlessly.
“No. Just take care of the others,” I said, ending the feed and dialing my next victim as I pulled out the bath oils from the drawer under my sink.
“Who in the fuck—”
“Good morning, Greyson,” I cut in before he dug himself into a very deep hole. There was ruffling and soft sigh on the other end…a female sigh. “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”
“No, ma’am—”
“Good. I’m hosting brunch this morning; I want all the most important family members, both Irish and Italian, to be here by ten am.”
“Ahh…” He paused for moment before his voice became more serious…much more him. “Is the boss aware—”
“I. AM. AWARE,” I cut him off before he could finish the thought. I walked over to my Le Grand Queen tub, made of exotic Caijou; it stood on four legs made from pure 24 karats and had features which made it worth over a million dollars. I turned on the faucet before continuing, “Ethan may be back in the city however, he hasn’t officially told you or anyone else that I’ve stepped down. Which means when I tell you to do something, you do it without making me waste my breath.”
“Of course—”
“Greyson,” I said calmly, watching the tub fill. “Over the last few weeks I’ve come to think highly of you. However, you of all people should know that what I think of you means nothing if you cross the line with me. After all, I thought very highly of Tobias as well… Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said quickly.
“So you’re going to…”
“Bring the Irish and the Italians by ten.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me, “And see, this is why you are the new go-between for the clan and the family. Congrats on your promotion.”
Hanging up on him, I poured the oils into the water, watching for a moment as the steam rose before stripping down. I stepped in, not caring how hot the water was and rested back. In the water I lifted my arm and, sure enough, the water rolled over the clear breathable seal they’d put on my tattoo.
Lifting my phone again to let the rest of the family know… It rang over and over again before she finally answered.
“Donatella.”
“Nari,” I said back in the same tone.
“It’s two in the morning.”
“It’s apparently seven in London.” I smiled at that, leaning back more, sinking into the water until only my head was above it.
“Are you in London?” she yawned.
“No.”
“Then why should I care what time it is in London?”
“Good question; ask Helen. She’s the one who woke me up, which means I can’t sleep, and since I can’t sleep, I thought I might as well wake everyone up early to get ready.”
It took a moment of silence as she processed what I said. “Get ready for…?”
“Wyatt’s welcome home brunch, of course,” I said it bubbly and peppy, like a high school cheerleader during spirit week. “I’ve arranged everything; your clothes will be delivered to you as well as your daughters and Jason’s. You’re also going to call Darcy and Sedric and let them know they must be here, dressed, hungry, and with a smile on their faces by 9:45am.”
“Sedric is out of town—”
“That’s why I’m calling you now. You’re his sister. You’re both Callahans, I’m sure between the two of you, you can find a way to get him here by 9:45 right?”
She sighed, “Does this have something to do with Tobias?”
I forced myself to smile, even though I could feel myself getting annoyed every time someone brought up his name. As if Tobias was so important he’d affect what I would or would not do.
“Nari.”
“Dona.”
“Sedric and Darcy will be here at 9:45, correct?”
“Yes,” she paused, “but why am I in charge of getting Darcy there as well, when Helen—”
“Thank you, Nari, see you all then.” I hung up, dropping my phone to the side…sinking into the water and closing my eyes.
I didn’t even bother calling Ethan or Wyatt; they should know by now not to fight me on these things and if they didn’t… Well, that was too fucking bad.
We were doing this my way… There was no second option.
“What?” I said, answering my phone after the first ring only to hear Greyson’s voice.
“Tobias gave a list to someone, we got him.”
“Tell no one else yet. I’ll be down in a moment,” I replied, hanging up again.
It’s true what they said about the wicked… There really wasn’t any rest for us.
However, I started this and I was going to see it through to the end.
FIVE
“He offered me a gun, but I refused.
After all, you don't need a weapon when you were born one.”
~ Blaise
DONATELLA
Putting my earrings on, I watched as my men beat into the face of the man in front of me. At this point, I couldn’t even see the skin on his nose anymore.
“Is there any way we can speed this up?” I asked, glancing over to Greyson as he waited beside me. “He better actually know something and not be wasting my time.”
We stood - well, I sat and Greyson stood - in the basement interrogation room of the mansion. The man currently being tortured for information was the last man Tobias had spoken to…and the man Tobias had most likely given orders to.
“Fuck you, CUNTS!” he screamed as they broke the last finger of his left hand. His right hand was already a deep purple color from all the broken bones.
Sighing, I rose from my chair and walked right to the edge of the pool of blood, not walking any closer until one of them put two thick red towels on the ground for me. I stepped on top of the towels as I stood in front of him, looking down at his bloody, oozing face.
“My brothers are home,” I told him. “That means my time with you in this manmade hell is almost over. And true pain is coming for you. I’m trying to spare you from that. Tell me what I need to know and it will all be over—”
“Just like Toby?” He smiled with blood over his teeth. “You wrapped yourself around him, making him think you cared and then you killed him. He loved you and you killed him.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that.” I leaned forward. “But no one has asked me if I loved him. I didn’t. I am not obligated to love someone just because they love me. He came to me, and he came to me weak. He stayed weak. He died weak! If a man wants my heart he’s going to have to find it and then just take it because I don’t offer it to anyone.”
“Fuck you, you cold-hearted bitch and fuck the rest of your damn family. I hope you all burn.”
Standing up straighter, I stretched out my hand; “I didn’t want to have to change my dress today, but I guess I’m going to have to. Remember, Toby is dead; he lost, being loyal now is useless,” I said as I pressed the trigger of the electric drill till it came alive, the blue light of thirty thousand volts rising like static waves from the drill bit. “When you’re ready to give me names, just beg, alright? If not, we can bring out the maggots to clean way the dead flesh and start all over again.
“Have you ever felt that? Your own flesh being eating away as you live? I haven’t, but I’ve seen it. The first time I nearly puked, the way she screamed. You have to hose them off once they get all the dead flesh too, because they can’t stop, they just keep eating away, laying eggs and multiplying on you to grow and grow until they’ve eaten everything to the bone.”
His chest was rising and falling quickly, only his left eye was open as he stared at th
e drill bit. “Why am I even bothering to explain? You’ll see it up close and personal real soon.”
I placed the drill right into his shoulder blade but before I could press the trigger again, he cried out, saying, “I’ll tell you! I’ll talk.”
“I’m ready when you are.” I smiled. Some men didn’t care if you broke their bodies, they needed you to break their minds… The real weapon wasn’t the drill; it was me. My words. Though, I was kind of disappointed he gave in so easily.
He must really hate bugs.
“Tobias had set up funds to send to…” I listened to him, with only half my attention. I knew full well that my job ended here. Greyson would apprise Ethan, and Ethan would take care of the rest himself.
As he spoke, I stared at the blood which could no longer be soaked up by the towels on the floor crawl towards me.
DONATELLA- 8 YEARS OLD
“How many people do you see?”
The painting was big. It was taller than me; it was taller than her. It took up almost all the space on the red walls, so no other paintings could be on the wall with it.
“Seven.”
“Look closer, Dona.”
I did. “There are seven.”
“No, there aren’t.”
Frowning, I took a few steps back so I could see the whole painting. I squinted, tilted to my head to the side, but I couldn’t see the eighth face.
“Hmm.” I heard her snicker in front of me.
“Mom!” I groaned, crossing my hands and staring at her back. “You’re messing with me!”
Slowly she turned, her black hair falling over her shoulder and I saw her face, she was smiling; the way the light hit her brown eyes made it look they were sparkling. She reached out to me,
“Come, I’ll show you.”
Pouting, I took her hand, and it was so soft and warm. I grabbed her hand tightly, but she didn’t mind, and she walked me to the painting. I watched the floor to make sure I didn’t step on the back of her black dress.
“Here.”