by J. J. McAvoy
“Ethan, dear, foolish, cute Ethan,” she exhaled as if she was trying to not laugh, shaking her head; her voice became softer and much more serious. “I didn’t forget anything, congrats on finding the clue. But sadly, marrying you is not a good enough reason for this. So, I have to shoot you now.”
“Don’t—” I tried to speak but she’d already pulled the trigger.
And all I saw was darkness.
CALLIOPE – AGE 21
Bogotá, Colombia
Saturday, June 30th
I was pissed. It had been well over eight hours now, but I was still pissed, and this motherfucker was still asleep. To make matters worse he’s handsome when he sleeps, and since he wasn’t awake, I could do nothing but stare at his stupid handsomeness.
“Ugh,” he groaned, his head tossing side to side as he tried to get comfortable on his pillow.
“Oh, suck it up. With all that cocaine I put in your system, you shouldn’t be feeling a damn thing.” The moment I said that, his eyes snapped open. His breathing quickened as he sat up on the couch, checking his arms.
“You did what?” he had the nerve to snap at me.
“I spared your life and stitched up your forehead,” I said, lifting the glass of water and ibuprofen for him. “You’re welcome.”
“The cocaine?” he hissed through his teeth, which only made him grimace.
“Exactly where you left it,” I nodded to the table behind him. “I only said I doped you up because I’m enjoying the panic on your face, makes me feel a little bit better.”
“The bullet you shot at my head didn’t do it for you?” He winced, reaching up to feel the gauze by his hairline.
“Nope,” I shook my head. “That was an angel kiss.”
“Last time I checked the devil was an angel too,” he muttered. He tried to stand, but I extended my leg, kicking him back down. He stared at my bare foot before looking back up to me. “You’re still pissed?”
“Didn’t I make that clear already?” I sneered, breathing out of my nose. “You had me kidnapped, Ethan.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
He stared at me blankly. “Do I have to answer that question?”
I lifted the gun and pointed it at him. “Do you want to know what happens when you don’t? Hint: I pull the trigger…again.”
“I remember you being much more rational when we were kids.”
“Yes, well my body hadn’t started shedding the inner lining of my uterus every month when we were kids, either. Things change, Ethan.” I replied, pulling back the hammer of the gun. “Would you like to answer my question now or would you prefer to test me some more?”
“So you knew it was a test?” he asked, completely unbothered by my earlier words.
He was on very thin ice and he didn’t seem to realize that.
“I knew I wanted donuts, instead I was thrown into a van, pistol whipped and called a bitch and a whore, all because you….” I waved my hand, waiting for him to add on to my statement.
“Because I knew who you really were.” I was not satisfied with that answer. “The last time I saw you, you told me you were going to get stronger, so you could come back and marry me. Fast forward fourteen years and I run into you while you are pretending to be a cook in Colombia. One that’s pretending she didn’t know me.”
“If you recognized who I was, Ethan, the correct course of action was to let me know—”
“Isn’t that what I did?”
BANG.
I fired at the couch right beside his body. He glanced down at bullet hole beside him then back to me. “Is the lining of your uterus shedding now?”
BANG.
I shot at the other side. He sighed deeply. “This couch was a gift, Calliope.”
BANG.
“Can’t mean that much to you if it’s in a shitty safe house in Colombia, now can it?” I disputed. He held my gaze, not saying another word. “Apologize to me.”
“You were the one who didn’t tell me the truth when we first—”
I pressed the gun to his forehead. “Apologize to me, Ethan, or else you and I are not going to get past this. And no, I’m not going to kill you. But I will hurt you. I have no problem with hurting you, just like you don’t seem to have any problem with hurting me. So, we can both fight and hurt each other or we can be rational. Your choice. Choose.”
He stood and stared me down before speaking again; “I do not apologize, it’s not in my nature.”
In a blink, he pinned my wrist, twisting it and firing the gun in my hand into the wall. The bullet shattered the vase and mirror before embedding itself in the wall. I pivoted, using the force of the movement to elbow him in the jaw. He let go of my wrist, gripping my shoulders and pinning me down on the couch. I drove my knee up into his crotch.
“Ah…” He grit his teeth and put his hand around my neck. Pulling my legs up from under him, I wrapped them around his waist and twisted to the side, his grip on my neck tightening. “I…a—apologize.”
I released my legs and he let go of my throat. When he moved back, I got up and slapped him across the face as hard as could. His head snapped to the side and paused there for a second before shifting to scowl at me.
“You apologized for the kidnapping. That slap was for this stupid test you just had to do right now.” I glared back.
“What test?”
“Do I look stupid to you?” He just shrugged and leaned on the arm on the couch, which meant maybe I did. Maybe in his eyes everyone did. Because in his mind he was the smartest person in the room…until now.
“Since we met you’ve been testing me. I passed the body and face test, even among your men, but that’s not enough for you. Next, you test if I can hold a conversation; if I can pique your interest mentally, not just sexually. I passed. Then you noticed my birthmarks and you knew who I was, which is why you allowed me to make the demands for the hotel. You didn’t say anything because you at least wanted to fuck me first. Passed that test, which brought us here.” I whispered, leaning into him. “Step by step you’re checking off things on your list, thinking you’re in control…but the truth is, Ethan, I didn’t fall into your trap. You fell into mine.”
His eyebrow raised. “If you have to tell me, then I haven’t. You merely think so—”
“Why are you in Colombia, Ethan?” I interrupted, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch.
“I don’t have to tell you—”
“You’re here because I brought you here.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I want wine. This feels like a wine conservation.”
“You brought me here?” He frowned, apparently not understanding.
Rolling my neck, I nodded. “That’s what I said.”
“Care to elaborate?”
I grinned. “Can your ego handle it?”
He didn’t respond. He just waited, sitting like a marble statue, his green eyes never looking away from mine.
“There’s been an uptick in violence lately. Members of cartels are turning on each other, struggles for what they think is power happens every time one of their leaders die. It’s very bloody, and in the end because they are morons, they get caught.”
“What does that have to do with me?” His face was blank, void of emotions.
“I guess I have to explain more clearly seeing as how you wish to play dumb. I really dislike talking so much. I feel rude,” I joked, but he didn’t flinch. “Not funny. Sorry, I forgot you’re in boss mode…aka Ceann na Conairte mode. You won’t talk about business with those who are not family, correct?”
He didn’t speak. He just watched me.
“Very well. I’ll speak, and I’ll tell, but I’ll do it my way.”
For some reason I truly enjoyed having his attention.
“Once upon a time...” I grinned when his eyebrow twitched in annoyance. His mask slipped there, but I let it go. “There was a small Italian girl by the name of Calliope, who was born in a beautiful but violent place
called Chicago, a kingdom ruled by the great Callahan family for generations. Or so she was told…you see Calliope didn’t get out much as child, her parents…were…very harsh to her. Some would even say cruel. But Calliope managed and was the best daughter she could be. One day, as reward for all her efforts, she got to go to the Callahan castle. She even met the queen. She wanted to be just like her, she wanted to live like her, and the Queen told her there was only one way…to be the wife of Ceann na Conairte.
Then she saw the young prince, and to remind her she was so low beneath him, he called her a mouse. Can you believe it? A mouse, a rodent, a creature that feeds on scraps and trash. That’s what he called her, and it hurt her feelings, but she forgave him because she knew she wouldn’t stay a mouse for long. She decided then and there, she’d marry that mean little prince and make him realize how wrong he was. But she had to get stronger, prettier, smarter…she did all of that, always checking in on that family, that prince. From afar he seemed to get colder and colder and when he became king, getting into that castle became all but impossible.
Not to be the deterred, Calliope decided if she couldn’t get in, she’d bring him out. It wasn’t easy, anyone can cause terror, but chaos requires delicacy and patience; after all, you can’t just kill anyone, you have to kill the right ones. A few cartel bosses here and few politicians there, until no one can trust anyone and people are stabbing even their own mothers in the back, thinking they're the ones who reported their stashes. How does this get the king out of the castle? When there is chaos, there needs to be order, and who better to bring order than the king? Especially when the idiots who are stabbing each other are hurting his bottom line.”
“The drug busts; that has been happening because of you?” His voice was barely a whisper. I knew the only thing holding him back from killing me wasn’t the fact that he knew me from childhood, but because he wanted to know the truth.
“Me?” I said in mock horror but gave myself away by grinning and leaning closer into him. “It was almost too easy, Ethan. Watching them turn on each other, on their own family after all that talk about loyalty…there was this one man, he cried when he found out his wife sold him out. Like legitimately cried…ha.” I bit back small laugh. “Sorry, that wasn’t funny. It was a really sad moment for their family. People say blood is thicker than water, I say put money in the water and blood means nothing anymore.”
“In one year, you pushed all the drug cartels in Colombia to blood wars just so you could get to me?”
“What can I say?” I grinned. “I’m a romantic.”
The look on his face…the blank and cold stare he was trying so hard to keep on his face was cute.
“I’ve lost hundreds of millions of dollars,” he sneered. “Do you think I am amused? Impressed?”
“That reminds me,” I went on, ignoring his comment and adjusting the ring on my finger. “The only way to get to you was to get a job as waitress, obviously I chose a restaurant you secretly own. It’s not a secret anymore because…well…María Paula. She actually held out much longer than I thought she would. I was very impressed by her, you should leave flowers at her grave.”
“Are you insane? Truly?” he questioned.
I rested my elbow and head against the couch and looked him over. “I seem insane to you… of all people?”
“Very.”
“Good, isn’t that one of the prerequisites for this family?”
“You think after all you’ve done, I’d just get down on one knee and give you a ring?”
“Oh…if only,” If it was going to be that easy, I would have just knocked on his front door. “Between your pride, trust issues, and my plot to bring you here, I know you mostly see me as threat…and only believe half the things I’m saying.”
“If you knew that all along, wasn’t this just one big waste of my goddamn time?” he questioned. I was doing my very best not smack him.
He was still playing dumb with me.
“No, because here I am, sitting right across from you, as you give me your undivided attention. So it seems like my trap worked perfectly well.”
“Except for the fact that now you might not leave here with your life.”
“You threaten me to scare me, but in reality, all you’re doing is telling me you don’t want to kill me.” If he truly wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have listened, he wouldn’t still be listening.
“You seem to know a lot about things you shouldn’t know about. Who should I thank for that?” Translation: the only possible way I could have this conversation is if there was a mole.
“I hope that is a rhetorical question. If not, why in the world would I kill an ally of mine?” I frowned, trying to think. “That’s just stupid. This whole point of this conversation is to tell you I am not stupid.”
“I thought this whole conversation was you telling me you want my attention—”
“Actually, I want you to marry me, but we can take it slow if you prefer.” I shrugged. It’s not like I had issues with time.
His nostrils flared. “I do not see that reason and I like you less than I did a day go.”
“Look again. Maybe it will come to you.”
“I do not like desperate women.”
My eyes narrowed, and he offered me a small smile as if he was pleased with his little dig which was why he kept trying to hurt me.
“Do you know how many women want to be my wife? How many people trip over themselves to stand beside me? Do you think just because I’m listening to you that I give a shit about you? Do you think it’s because I fucked you or was it because we met once as children? How pitiful must you be to plan all of this for nothing? How much of a nothing are you in your own world that you come desperately seeking my attention…only to be nothing here too?”
His green eyes raged with disgust and amusement. I said nothing and rose from the couch, grabbing the keys off the table and handing them to him.
“I took care of the bodies already. I made breakfast for myself but there is some left over, and with that I say goodbye, Mr. Callahan. If you’d like to kill me, please do it personally and stop unnecessarily endangering the lives of your employees. Loyal people aren’t easy to find.”
I picked up my heels and he was silent.
BANG!
I paused, staring at the bullet hole in the wall in front of me.
“Were you not taught manners?” he asked from behind me. “You’ve cost me a lot of money and time. And I believe it’s quite rude of you to leave without cleaning up the mess you made. If you can’t pay me back, a limb will do.”
I turned back, meeting his gaze before extending my hand to him. “If you want a limb come and take it, motherfucker.”
He rose to his feet, annoyance clear on his face as he placed the gun at the side of my skull. “You obviously do not understand who the fuck I am…ugh.”
His face bunched up as he fought back a cough, the gun dropped from his hand.
“No, Ethan,” I whispered coldly as he took step back holding his breath. I took off my ring and lifted the lock, dumping powder into the pitcher of water. “It’s you who doesn’t understand, so let me re-introduce myself. I am Calliope Seraphina Orsini, your future wife. Be sure to drink this whole thing. I’ll see myself out. We’ll talk tomorrow, I already added my number to your phone.”
Taming a Callahan man was so much fucking work.
Chapter 4
“It's dangerous to meet a woman who fully understands you.
It usually ends with marriage.”
* * *
~Oscar Wilde
ETHAN - AGE 23
Bogotá, Colombia
Sunday, June 31st
Kill her.
The next time I saw her, I was going to fucking rip her crazy head from her crazy shoulders. The fucking poison she had used on me still had me feeling fucking weak. The fucking bitch poisoned me.
She fucking shot me too!
“Ugh,” I groaned as I rubbed my temple. I
was so annoyed I didn’t even know where the fuck to start. I spent the last few hours feeling like shit; all I wanted to do was sleep for another bloody week.
I should kill her first.
Ring.
Ring.
“What?” I snapped into the phone.
“Sorry to bother you, boss…”
“Not sorry enough, apparently. What is it?” I asked him.
“I was just notified about the fire.”
“The fire? What the fuck are you talking about, Tobias?” I sat up in the bed. “A fire in Chicago?”
“No, in Colombia. Are you seeing the news? There were three fires, all of them on the coca fields. We’ve lost a lot, boss,” he explained as I turned on the television to see the wildfire that was now raging. Firefighters battled in the background, the banner on the screen reporting that 40 were already dead. “This wasn’t accident, was it? Do you need us down there?”
“If I needed you, Tobias, I would have called you.” I hung up on him, breathing in slowly as I clenched on to the phone. Gritting my teeth, I said her name like I was conjuring the fucking devil. “Calliope.”
Ripping the sheets off, I searched my phone and saw the word ‘Wife’ in my contact list.
“You psycho bitch,” I muttered before connecting the damn call.
“Ethan—”
“Do you think this is a game?” I snapped, not even wanting to hear her voice.
“I’m sorry, boss, I don’t know what you’re referencing.”
I bit the inside of my cheek before continuing. Enough with this shit. “Let’s meet, Calliope.”
“I’m heading to Mass. You’re free to join, you know the church already.” She hung up and I tossed the phone to the side.
“Church or not you will die today.”
What the fuck was wrong with that goddamn woman?
* * *