Vicious Minds

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Vicious Minds Page 8

by J. J. McAvoy


  “What’s my tell?” I questioned, wondering how she knew.

  She slid her naked body over mine and I could hear the chain rattle at her ankle. “You’re Ethan Callahan.”

  “How is that a tell?”

  “It not. It’s just you.” She rested her head over my heart and her soft round breast pressed against my chest. “In order to manipulate people, you need to understand people; to understand people, you need to watch people. Everyone is like a walking novel to me.”

  “Even me?” Again, she nodded. “And what is the story of Ethan Callahan? What makes you think you can guess my thoughts?”

  She took a deep breath. “Your parents’ story; do you know family would talk about it all the time? The Italian queen who married the Irish prince.”

  “My father would not have been pleased knowing he was referred to as a prince while my mother was a queen.”

  “Oh well, it’s the truth.” She snickered. “Your mother was already running the Italian mafia before she married your father, and your father took over afterwards…”

  “Are you going to give me a history lesson on my own family?” I questioned, not sure where she was going with this.

  “You led me down that…never mind,” she went on. “My point is, everyone talked about the great love your parents had, how they were just electric around each other. To the point that you’d feel uncomfortable being around them. I didn’t understand at first, but then I met them, and even as a child I recognized that everyone else felt so fake in comparison to them, even my own parents. I think that’s why so many people outside of Chicago and the families couldn’t believe the rumors; two people who genuinely loved each other, who were so faithful to each other, couldn’t be so cruel and ruthless.”

  “I thought you were getting to a point?” I didn’t want to think of my parents now of all times.

  “You grew up with that.” I froze. She lifted her head to look at me again, but I didn’t meet her gaze. “For most people that type of love is something you only read about. But you, you grew up witnessing them love each other like that, you watched your father stay faithful to her even after her death…you know true love exists. You know soulmates exist. For you to know that and not want it for yourself, it’s not possible.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” I muttered, glancing over at the alarm clock as it read 2:00 a.m., wishing she’d go to sleep. “Loving anyone the way my parents did is irresponsible and blinding. Their love hurt a lot people, even their own children. I hope you weren’t thinking that was what you would get if you somehow managed to get me to marry you. It’s not possible.”

  She placed her face in my line of sight again. “Liar.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You may not want to love like your parents but you sure as hell want to be loved that way,” she answered. “Another human devoted to you; who loves you completely, selflessly, whose loyalty is without question, even after death? Who doesn’t want that? Even dogs want that. We cannot choose our family, they sometimes let us down, or are too selfish to care about us, but the people we marry? That’s our chance to grab the love we failed to receive elsewhere.”

  “I’m not going to love you.”

  “Liar.” She grinned as she climbed onto my lap. Her brown hair a mess, her pink nipples hard, her chest covered in bite marks that I gave her. She took my hands and placed them on her hips. I couldn’t help but get hard at the sight of her.

  “What are you after, Calliope?” I gripped her sides tighter. “Why so much effort? What do you want to use me for? Fame? Power? Money?”

  “Everything,” she answered, shifting as I sat up.

  “Everything?”

  “Fame, power, money, love. The moon, the stars, the whole galaxy. Give it to me.” Her arms circled my neck. “My fetish is domination; not of men, not of myself, of everything. A shiver goes up my spine when I watch others bow their head. In my previous life I must have been born a great queen.”

  “And you want me to hand over my kingdom? That’s a high price for sex,” I retorted, unable to control my smirk.

  “Don’t you remember what I said yesterday?” I tried to think back but she had said a lot of things. “One way or another. Ethan, everything I want I will get. I will kill whoever, do whatever, until this hunger inside of me is met. Do not confuse me for all the pretty girls falling at your feet. With or without you, I will get everything I want. Chicago, the country, the continent, the whole goddamn fucking world. I chose you because why have an enemy when I could have a lover?”

  I searched her face and for the first time I saw it…that darkness. The savage I’m sure all of Colombia had encountered.

  “I can’t offer you another mafia, like your mother did your father, but I can offer myself, and believe me, I am a mob on my own,” she added.

  “And in exchange, I make you my wife—”

  Her lips were on mine again, this time harder, her body pressed against mine tightly, her mouth opening for my tongue…and the moment my hand cupped her breast she broke away.

  “Your skepticism is back,” she said against my lips.

  “So, you’re distracting me with sex?”

  “I’m shelving the conversation. I’m in no rush to win you over to my side.”

  Her side? Wasn’t she trying to get on my side?

  I wanted to ask her…but sex first.

  CALLIOPE - AGE 21

  Bogotá, Colombia

  Monday, July 1st

  When I woke up the chain was off my leg and he was sitting up in the bed typing on his computer, dressed in only his black boxer briefs. When he heard me shift his green eyes glanced down at me.

  “Am I free to go now, boss?” I whispered, curling up into a ball beside him. He didn’t speak, his cold gaze fell on me.

  “Will you leave if I let you go?” he asked emotionlessly.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re free to go,” he muttered before looking back to the screen.

  Rolling my eyes, I sat up and really focused on the room we were in for the first time. This was the same place he brought me before. I’d taken a look around after I had shot him two days ago. His safe house was built underground. It looked like a mechanic’s shop on the top floor, and when you came down the elevator there was a living room which was connected to the underground cocaine field, as well as the room he had the damn kidnappers put me in. There was another exit leading to a gas station I’m sure he owned too.

  We were on the last floor, a large bedroom, or better yet bunker within a bunker. But never one to forgo comfort, the place was all luxury. Plush cream-colored Italian carpets with gold trimmings, a wooden dining table in front a wall of wines, deep blue and gold velvet couches, there was even a chandelier hanging from the cloud painted ceiling.

  “Doesn’t seem like your style,” I observed when my feet touched the carpet. “But I enjoy it.”

  “This place used to belong to my mother,” he spoke from behind me.

  I should have known.

  “Where is the restroom?” I asked him.

  “First door to your left.” He was typing again. I got up and walked in the direction he indicated. The lights turned on as I entered the room. Leaning against the sink, I checked my reflection in the mirror. It was only in the glass did I notice there was a sealed new toothbrush and toiletries all laid out.

  What is he up to? This seemed a little too considerate for him. Nevertheless, I unpacked the toothbrush and brushed my teeth. I’d let it go for now. Instead I took the time to just clean up a bit, taking care of myself first. The hot towel on my skin felt heavenly. When I came out he was still there, unmoving against the pillows. I walked back the to bed and laid down, closing my eyes.

  “You didn’t take a shower?” he asked me.

  “We’ll take one together when you’re done.”

  “I’ve already taken one.”

  “That was stupid. We’re going to get dirty again very soon,” I informed hi
m, and for the first time I heard him stop typing. He glanced down at me and I looked up. “Or are you tired of me already?”

  “Exactly. Do I have to be more obvious with it?”

  Liar. But if he wanted to have an iceberg up his ass that was perfectly fine with me. I checked around and found my purse siting in the corner. I knew he most likely looked through it, but I didn’t care. I sat naked on the couch and took out my phone. Of course I didn’t have a signal. Flipping my purse upside down and pressing down the studs underneath the bag, the bottom flap opened and I clipped my other black cell phone. No longer hearing him type I glanced over to him to see his eyes on my purse, then on my phone. I could see the curiosity in his eyes, but I didn’t do anything other than smile at him before focusing back on my phone. The moment I turned it on it started to ring.

  “I was just about to call you, Luca,” I said as I put it on speaker, getting up and walking over to the fruit bowl.

  “What do you need?”

  “A flight,” I took a bite of an apple.

  “Where to? Your vacation isn’t up for another week, ma’am.”

  I thought about it and turned to face Ethan who was now watching me. I smiled. “Where is the best place to nurse a broken heart? I met the worst guy here. I’m not sure how I’ll recover.”

  “I’m more worried for the guy if he is still alive,” he said under his breath.

  “I’m sorry, Luca, what was that?” I asked sweetly into the phone.

  “Nothing, ma’am. How about Bali?”

  I grinned, chewing more of the apple. “Beautiful. Have everything ready for me. I have a few things to wrap up here, so I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

  “Ma’am, I was calling because I found the people you were looking for. Do you need someone else to take care of it—”

  “No,” I frowned. “I’ll take care of it personally.”

  “Yes ma’am, sending information now, enjoy your vacation,” he replied before I hung up. I checked the address he gave me, biting into the apple again.

  Of all the places, I thought as I grabbed my skirt and his discarded shirt. Taking my purse and walking towards the bathroom, I could feel his eyes on mine, but he wasn’t the only one who knew how to be cold. He wasn’t the center of my world, and I wasn’t going to beg for his attention.

  When I came out, he was dressed in jeans and a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked me over, noticing I had stolen his shirt. I pulled out my phone and moved to the door.

  “The door, please,” I requested, waiting for him to open it but he didn’t.

  “Who are these people you’re going to take care of?”

  “None of your business.”

  “On the contrary,” he said, coming up beside me. “You yourself said you killed cartel members just to get my attention. I’m still working on the chaos you unleashed—”

  “As long as you have your money, the people are replaceable, aren’t they? Besides, new blood is better. It’s always good to clean house and start fresh,” I stated and then pointed at the door. “I promise this doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s personal.”

  A frown appeared on his lips. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  “Ethan, you’re the one who wanted me to leave and now you’re stopping me from doing so?”

  “Who are these people?”

  He was such a…blockhead sometimes.

  Lifting my phone, I held it to the door. It took a few seconds, then the door beeped before sliding open. His eyebrow raised before his gaze fell to me.

  “Have a nice day, Mr. Callahan, and thanks for the fuck. If you reconsider my offer let me know.” I offered him a handshake and he frowned like the Grinch. It was funny, but I didn’t let myself laugh. Instead I turned and walked up the stairs, and I heard him following close behind. When we reached the top level of the house, I smiled seeing the bullet holes in the couch.

  “That really was a gift.” I felt his breath warm my neck as he spoke from behind me. “Given to my mother by my grandfather before he passed.”

  “The bullet holes add character. You’re welcome.” He was so close I could feel his chest rise and fall at my back, but I ignored him and moved to leave. He followed me still. I sighed, turning back to him. “Would you like to give me a ride Ethan? After all you did kidnap me…again.”

  He didn’t say anything, he just held the door to another room for me. Following him this time, the room led to a garage. There was only a black Maserati and a silver Ducati inside.

  “I was trying not to draw attention today,” I told him.

  “If you want to be a Callahan, you’ll need to get used to drawing attention.” He opened the door of the sleek black car for me. “The spotlight is sometimes the best place to handle people.”

  I wanted to let him know why I didn’t want the attention, but I just let it go. He’d see soon enough.

  * * *

  ETHAN - AGE 23

  Las Americas, Colombia

  Monday, July 1st

  I watched her give a wad of US hundred-dollar bills to the maid who, without even looking at her, handed her a hotel key. I had no idea why I was following her. It seems I said ‘I don’t know’ often when it came to this damn woman. Not only did I drive a fucking hour to get here, I had to do so as she blasted music and danced in front seat. Not once did she explain why she needed to come to this damn hotel or who she was meeting or why. Part of me really was expecting something related to my work…how fucking wrong I was. Outside of the cocaine on the table in the suite, this had nothing to do with work.

  “Oh baby, are you ready to be punished—AH! Get the fuck out!” A Latino woman was dressed in leather dominatrix lingerie with a whip in her hands. Her brown eyes were wide and panicked.

  “Baby?” The question came from an Italian man in some type of fetish slave bondage suit that also held on to his package. What the fuck?

  “Who the fuck are you?” he hollered at us.

  I looked to Calliope wondering what the fuck she was doing. She turned to the man and said, “I’m Calliope, Bellarose’s younger sister.”

  She sounded so sweet, as if she were trying to sell him baked goods, however, the look on the guy’s face was pure horror and fear. Calliope turned to the woman.

  “Did you know he was engaged, miss?”

  The woman stared, opening her mouth and closing it again. She knew. Regaining herself, she crossed over arms over her fake breasts. “Engaged isn’t married, now is it? Tony and I are in love. I feel bad about your sister but—”

  “Catalina!” The man, small dick Tony, yelled at her.

  “Calliope, please—”

  “Shut up, Tony.”

  BANG!

  I was so distracted by their…outfits that I hadn’t noticed Calliope had pulled a gun until she fired it at the man to the right of her beside the couch. She missed but was so close the man fell over.

  “Tony—please,” the woman begged when Calliope pulled the gun on her. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, please.”

  “Prove it,” Calliope flipped the gun for the woman to take. “Kill him.”

  “What?” The woman’s mouth dropped open.

  “Aren’t you sorry?” Calliope asked, her voice still laced with that fake sweetness. The woman just nodded and Calliope offered her the gun again.

  “I can’t,” she shook her head and the moment she did Calliope threw some white powder in her face causing her to scream out and stumble back.

  “Catalina!”

  “Tony, please don’t make me focus my attention on you,” Calliope warned with her back to him. He glanced towards the phone and then over to me, as if he was trying to figure out if I’d stop him before he could make it, while the woman cried at her feet.

  “What did you do—?”

  “Lusel,” Calliope answered.

  What?

  “What?” The woman cried.

  “It’s a type of poison,
it starts with burning of the eyes, until they begin bleeding. Your eardrums will spilt and you’ll be deaf and blind within twenty minutes. In an hour you’ll paralyzed from the waist down without the antidote. Tony, I hope to god you aren’t thinking you can reach that phone before I pull the trigger. That would be very stupid on your part and I don’t think you have room to be stupid today.”

  The man froze, his body outstretched as if he were preparing to move. I wondered how she knew until I noticed the reflection on bedroom door Calliope was facing.

  “Anyway, Catalina, you aren’t looking too good, hun.” Calliope knelt down to her. She lifted a small white ball. “Kill him and I’ll spare you.”

  Once more she handed the woman the gun.

  “I…”

  “Catalina!” Tony yelled at her.

  “You or him,” Calliope whispered softly, petting the side of the woman’s face as she started to shake. Slowly Calliope put the gun in her hand shifted to the side. The woman and the man locked eyes.

  “Cata…

  “I know you aren’t a bad person. He was the one who came on to you, he was the one who made you fall in love with him, he had someone else but still came after you. It’s not your fault.”

  “Shut up, you crazy bitch!” Tony screamed at her. “Baby, don’t listen to her. Come here. You got the gun, you have it! We don’t get to—”

  “Do you know you aren’t the only one?” Calliope frowned as she told her. “The last woman really loved him too. She couldn’t do it. She took her own life.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about—”

  “Don’t be like her,” Calliope went on as if she could not hear him. “He’ll move on from you just as quickly. He doesn’t love you. How can someone who loves you put you in this position?”

  Tears streamed down the woman’s face as she began to cough. She held on to her throat, panicking.

  “I guess you’re going to be just like the rest,” Calliope added, rising and looking over to Tony. “Why do you keep doing this, Tony? I’ve already warned you before.”

 

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