by J. J. McAvoy
I jumped as it burned, looking back into the grey eyes now watching us.
“Gabriel what?”
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“What is your last name?”
“I don’t have one.” He grinned, rising to his feet as he added. “Think of me like a Greek God, here to see how the tragedy will unfold.”
He winked at me before walking to the door, but before he could leave, Ethan called out to him saying, “God, man or monster, if you ever lay a hand or pull a gun on anyone in my family again, I’ll drown you in warm scotch myself.”
This was the moment where most people knew to step back from Ethan Gabriel, however, simply looked amused, “So you’re a Shakespeare man… Good to know.”
Just like that he left, and when the door closed behind him, Ethan said to me directly, “What did he say to you before? It’s not like you to lose your cool in public like that.”
I didn’t answer, so Wyatt spoke up, “Obviously he wanted to get under our skin. Whatever he’s up to… I don’t trust him, even if Nana does.”
“Obviously,” Ethan muttered, walking back over to his bar. “Any man who drinks scotch must be mental.”
Wyatt snickered, checking over my hand, but I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure what was going through my grandmother’s half-burnt mind, but something told me this Gabriel was much more dangerous than he seemed. How else could he so easily stand up not only to me, and my brothers, but also to my grandmother; he was either accustomed to being in the company of monsters or he was one himself. And it had to be the latter because no one was as bad as my family; Gabriel just didn’t know it yet. He was ignorant and I’d enlighten him.
“You don’t think Nana would be pissed enough to make us live with a serial killer, do you?” I asked them, partially joking, but neither of them laughed.
“Kill him and apologize later,” Wyatt suggested to Ethan.
Ethan shook his head, “We don’t kill blindly, brother. We find out who he is, and his connection to Grandmother…then we kill him.”
Our family didn’t do well with outsiders for a reason.
They ruined everything.
GABRIEL
“How was day one?”
“She pulled a gun on me, and I think bruised two of my ribs,” I said as I came out of the shower, using the towel to dry my hair. Noticing the red marks from her legs on my neck. “All of that happened after she shattered a champagne glass with her bare hands… So, not as bad as I was expecting.”
“Why? Because she didn’t shoot you?”
“Exactly,” I answered, cleaning the steam off the glass in order to see my reflection. “From here on out, any day she doesn’t shoot me, I consider a win.”
“That’s a low bar.”
“And yet it’s still higher than where your son started off,” I said, lifting the phone off the counter and closer to my lips, “A bullet through the thigh, correct?”
“He at least kissed her before she shot him,” she corrected me.
“I’m sure you were proud, Evelyn,” I said coldly. “But I’ve already spent the last month waiting on the sidelines. I’m done waiting; I’m taking what was promised to me.”
“Nothing was promised to you but an opportunity. My granddaughter will make you work for the rest.” She hung up on me, and I couldn’t help but grin. The old woman had bite to her, even when half-dead on bed a thousand miles away.
From what I could see, all the Callahan women were the same: beautiful and dangerous. However, Donatella… I couldn’t help but grin as I placed my hand on my chin. I loved a woman who could fight back both physically and mentally, who wasn’t afraid of a little pain, but best of all, she was awe-inspiringly beautiful. When I’d held her to me, I felt the curves of her body, the warmth of her skin, how she smelled like Mediterranean lilies… If I had kissed her, we’d make a scene in a very different sort of way.
The day isn’t over yet…
NINE
“You either like me or you don’t.
It took me twenty-something years to learn how to love myself,
I don’t have that kinda time to convince somebody else.”
~ Daniel Franzese
DONATELLA
I hadn’t straightened my hair in a while so when I finally let it down, it was a thick mess of curls. I would have just left it up until I could get it done professionally tomorrow, however, tonight was our first family dinner in a long time. That, plus we had a guest.
“I never thought I’d see the day you were worried about what to wear…”
Looking up from my mirror to the door; there stood Nari, in skinny pink trousers and a deep blue V-neck blouse, a single gold bar necklace around her neck. Beside her, dressed in a yellow and white above-the-knee floral print dress was Helen, who frowned while looking me up and down.
“Are you trying to look nice for Gabriel?” Helen asked.
“I don’t try to look nice, I do that naturally,” I corrected her, looking back to the mirror and brushing my hair. “Looking nice isn’t my goal; I need a look that will make him want to approach me.”
“You want to seduce him?” Nari questioned, coming up beside me, her pale face appearing in the reflection of my mirror. “Isn’t it a little soon after—”
“He’s here for a reason,” I snapped at her, cutting her off before she crossed the line. “And I’m positive it isn’t a good one. The faster I can get rid of him, the faster we can avoid the shit-storm that’s coming after him.”
“But didn’t grandma invite him to stay?” Helen came over to the mirror with a few dresses, holding them up to my body. When she found one she liked, she held it in front me before looking and saying, “He can’t be that dangerous if she—”
“Maybe he has something on her?”
“Dona,” Nari scoffed in disbelief, reminding me of Tobias when I’d told him something was off with Marco’s death. Taking the dress from Helen’s hand, I turned to face Nari and looked deep into her brown eyes.
“Are you laughing at me?” I asked her.
Nari lifted a brow and stood straighter. “No, I just find it hard to believe—”
“That’s your first mistake,” I replied coldly. “Nothing should be too hard for you to believe by now.”
“If there is anyone you can trust, it is Evelyn,” she replied.
I stepped closer, so close I could feel her breath, “Me. Myself. And I. That’s how far my circle of trust goes. I’m almost one hundred percent certain my grandmother wouldn’t do anything to harm us. However, I’m also certain she’s hiding something…when she left here she was on the edge of death and not a word since then. Now, all of a sudden, a man shows up in our house at her request! Why? No answer. Who is he? No answer. What is he doing here? Again, no answer. And I’m supposed to be alright with that? Fuck no. My instincts tell me this is bigger than she’s explaining. How big, I’m not sure. Which is what I plan on finding out… That is, if you are done laughing at me?”
She smiled and nodded, “I apologize if I insulted you, cousin.”
“You’re forgiven, cousin,” I smiled back.
“I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Of course,” I said with the same politeness and she turned to leave without another word. I turned back to the mirror only to see Helen’s brown eyes glaring at me. “Yes?”
“I don’t know what he said to make you so upset this morning,” she said walking over to hand me another outfit. “But it isn’t her fault which means she didn’t deserve that bullshit.”
“Perfect, thank you,” I said, taking the black satin wrap from her hands, ignoring her comment as I held the clothes up. “Black really is my color.”
She didn’t say anything more, knowing I wasn’t going to talk about it. Instead she just picked up her small purse and walked out the door. When it closed, I inhaled deeply, tilting my head to the ceiling. It was so easy for them to see me as the villain, the raging bitch.
“You were
never meant to be the Ceann na Conairte.”
“So why do you keep running head first into the wall?”
“You enjoy the pain.”
His words felt like ants on my skin, crawling all over me and each time I tried to brush them off, they came back. The whole day, all I could think of was him. O’Phelan had let us know he’d gone to sleep; apparently, he was jetlagged. That, plus his odd accent, made it clear he wasn’t from America and had only come here recently. Ethan hadn’t been able to get any information on him. Nor could Helen or even Jackal, which was unheard of. Perhaps my grandmother was hiding who he really was, making him even more dangerous.
He knew everything about us.
He was under my grandmother’s protection.
And we knew nothing about him…for now, I reminded myself. I stripped down, changing into the satin romper, the shorts stopping mid-thigh; it was casual enough that it looked like I didn’t put effort in, but sexy enough to catch his attention…once I had that, I’d see if he “enjoyed the pain”.
Not wasting any time my bed spun around, I grabbed my favorite pair of black heels with gold straps, before heading back to the bathroom. I skipped make-up completely and only put on lip balm. I couldn’t make it too obvious.
Pulling my hair back into a messy ponytail, I only stopped to pick up my cellphone before exiting my room. Just as I stepped out, so did he, dressed in an oversized gray sweater and gray gym shorts that stopped at his knees. He wore vintage round-framed glasses and carried a red book, which he didn’t look up from, as he walked to the elevator. I watched him, stunned, as he waited quietly, getting in when the doors opened. When it began to close, he finally looked up at me.
“You’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?” Just like that, the doors closed and I had no words. Well, that was lie. I had words. Three of them actually.
“Go fuck yourself.”
GABRIEL
Lifting my glasses up, I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to get the image of her out of my head. Her legs were so bloody long, and that outfit! If it could even be considered an outfit and not just a fucking too-thin robe… I could easily see all the lines of her body.
Well, at least you know you’re attracted to her, I thought, trying to be rational. Lust was good thing. Lust was a good starting point…however, it was just my starting point. I didn’t get that feeling from her yet; all I got was rage. I could work with rage; it was just a step ahead of passion. She needed to be reigned in a little. I’d been warned about her. How Donatella Callahan was like a siren, her beauty so enchanting she drew men in and pulled them to the deep before they’d even realized. I’m sure men before me, lesser men, easily walked into her trap, the thought of being with her was worth the risk of death. I, on the other hand, wasn’t a lesser man nor were her looks worth losing everything I was fighting for. I needed her to get what I wanted; what she looked like was irrelevant…but fuck me, she wasn’t holding back.
“It’s just the first day,” I whispered to myself, stepping off the elevator. I glanced back down at the book I could no longer concentrate on reading. Part of me wanted to try and see how she’d try to trap me in her web, to play her game, but I just didn’t have time for that.
Work first, play later.
“Good evening, Sir,” the old butler said to me when I reached the dining room. Looking up from the book, I nodded back, thanking him before heading inside.
There, seated at the head of the table, was just one of my many obstacles. Dressed in a dark three-piece suit with a black tie, a glass of ice-less scotch in his hand, was none other than Ethan Callahan himself. His green eyes, like hers, looked me up and down.
“You’re a little underdressed, don’t you think?” Her soft, yet steady voice questioned from behind me.
I glanced around the table. To the left of her eldest brother was his blonde haired, blue-eyed wife dressed in white, who stood staring as she sipped on a juice box. Next to her was an African-American woman with curly brown hair and standing beside her, an Asian-American woman with shoulder-length black hair. Wyatt, obstacle number two, was dressed in the same suit from this morning, though his jacket was gone. He took a bite of his bread, not taking his eyes off me.
“Please sit,” Ethan said, nodding over to the spot beside Donatella.
“O’Phelan,” he called when I took my seat. The butler came over to me carrying a bowl of thick, rich soup with bread on the side. “I hope you aren’t allergic to anything?”
I smirked, shaking my head and placing my book on the table to look to him. “I’m not, thank you for your concern.”
“This is my wife, Ivy, and my cousins, Helen and Nari.” He looked to them all. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”
“Did I?” I pretended to be oblivious before looking over to his wife. “How did a beautiful girl like you end up with a man like him?”
“Evelyn didn’t happen to break you out a prison, did she?” she asked instead.
All of them, with the exception of Ethan, shook their head. “Why? Does she bring inmates home often?”
“Inmate 974024-041, nice to meet you,” Ivy laughed to herself.
“And here I thought being drop-dead gorgeous wasn’t a federal offence,” I replied, winking at her.
“It’s not; but running over a dancer while drunk is,” Donatella cut in before Ivy could speak again, casually tearing the bread and dipping it into her soup.
“Ivy,” I frowned, still giving her all of my attention, “say it ain’t so.”
“It’s so,” she replied, less ecstatic than before, her eyes on Donatella who refused to pay attention to her. “It wasn’t me though. I was innocent.”
“Was being the key word.” Donatella mumbled softly under her breath.
Glancing to the other two women across from me, I asked, “Are you all also married to wrongly convicted felons?”
“Single,” Helen said.
“He’s a—”
“None of your business,” Wyatt cut them off, glaring over at me, “Why the hell should we explain ourselves or our family to a stranger?”
“Simply making conversation,” I said, tearing my bread and dipping it into the dish. “Or do you all prefer your dinners to be hostile?”
“You are free to leave,” Ethan stated, leaning back into his chair. “If we happen to be too hostile for your liking.”
This family had walls almost as high as mine around them. To my great joy, a silence fell over the dining room. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice their eyes on me, but it was like walking into a den of lions in the middle of night. Reaching for my book, I lifted it back up to read as I ate quietly among them, more aware of Donatella than I’d like. It was very easy to spot women who were trouble; women who would only complicate your life. It was clear Donatella was that type of woman. It wasn’t her family, it was her personality; from what I could tell and what I’d heard… She was like a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any moment.
Evelyn had only given me two pieces of advice: defuse her as quickly as possible and never let her think she controls you. The old woman looked genuinely concerned her granddaughter might kill me.
“Hmh,” I snickered to myself at that, causing her to stiffen beside me.
“Ethan,” she spoke softly, with that horrid fake smile back on her pretty pink lips, not at all like the laugh she’d allowed herself this morning.
“Yes?” he asked.
She looked over to him, “I’ve been thinking of stabbing him with my salad fork for the last ten minutes. Please tell me who he is and when he can leave?”
I grinned. “How could he tell you something he doesn’t know.”
“Why don’t I know?” Ethan questioned and didn’t look at me, focusing only on Donatella.
“If you want a straight answer Donny, you should go to the source.”
“Donny?” She whipped her head back to me so quickly, I’m sure she’d hurt herself. “My name is Donatella, and why would
I trust a word that comes out of your ugly mouth?”
I laughed. “Ugly? I’ve had numerous women use a plethora of adjectives to describe my mouth, however, ugly was never one of them.”
“Why don’t you find those ‘numerous’ women and leave us the fuck alone?” she snapped.
“I was leaving you alone when you threatened me with silverware. So, once again, you’re annoyed because of your own actions.”
“You little piece of shit—”
“Are you still bitter because I called you an idiot for wanting to usurp your brother?” I said loudly and happily. “Resorting to name-calling is a bit petty, don’t you think?”
She gripped her fork so tight I was sure it would bend.
“Shut. Your. Mouth.” She hissed through her teeth.
“Or you’ll what—”
Before I could finish speaking she brought the fork down hard right beside my arm; I could even feel the silver graze my skin. “Or I won’t miss next time.”
She trembled, breathing through her nose like a bull ready to run me down. Reaching over her hand, I freed my sweater from her wrath. “Why is the truth so hard for you to hear—”
“Why do you keep speaking to me as if I know you?!” she snapped at me. “You make it seem as if we’re close but we aren’t! I’m sure I’ve never been so fucking annoyed to meet anyone as I have today. So I doubt we’ve met before!”
“Let me understand, you believe the manner in which I’m speaking to you now is the way people who are close speak with one another?” I asked, genuinely surprised by that. “The more we speak, the more I wonder about your mental stability.”
Once again, she lifted her fork, but before she could stab me, I grabbed the knife, blocking it, the silver clashing with each other.
“That’s the third time you’ve insulted me today—”