Vicious Minds

by J. J. McAvoy

  “Give me a name.”

  I looked up from the hair I was cutting. Ivy sat in the chair seriously, waiting. Give me a name? You earn a bloody name! What fuck have you done to earn anything? Other than sleeping, eating, and waiting for me to touch her, she did nothing. But that didn’t seem to matter to her; she waited anyway, along with the whole damn shop.

  What fucking disgrace.

  “Belladonna,” I said to her.

  “Ivy the Belladonna Callahan,” she whispered to herself and then smiled, nodding happily.

  The Belladonna Callahan? She thought that was a compliment? The belladonna berry was used historically in Italy to enlarge the pupils of women, giving them a striking appearance. It was something insecure, ugly women took to increase their attractiveness. Belladonna meant fake beauty, manufactured beauty. That’s what she was. On top of that, Belladonna had chemicals that can interfere with the body's nervous system. She didn’t get any of that. She didn’t get that she was poison to me. She was a manufactured beauty blocking me from true beauty. Blocking me from doing what I really wanted to do…go home.

  Reaching for my phone again, I texted once more. Let’s see just how far her silent treatment would go.

  “I need you to kill Wyatt’s girlfriend.”

  No reply…so only time would tell.

  Ethan - AGE 28

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Thursday, September 7th

  “Your brother is in there and he looks like shit,” Ivy said as I tried to head into the living room.

  “And?”

  She looked at me as if she wanted to kick me.

  “And he obviously came because he wanted to talk—”

  “I doubt it.” I stepped around her. He was most likely here because Calliope killed his girlfriend.

  Ivy stepped in front me, blocking my path. “If you don’t open that door, I swear, no sex, no alcohol, no kettle corn.”

  “Is that code for something?” I asked because I sure as hell could not give a damn. I didn’t care about sex with her; not only did I have to force myself, it was boring and dull. The alcohol was the only thing keeping me from losing my mind and the kettle corn reminded me of Calliope.

  “Go—” She stopped when Wyatt walked in holding a bottle of scotch, my goddamn scotch, which the little shit was drinking from with one hand and holding my bag of kettle corn in the other. Ignoring us both, he walked into the living room, slipped out of his scrub top, and sat his selfish little ass on the couch comfortably. Reaching for the remote, he switched to, of course, The Godfather. He just watched the movie, eating and drinking quietly.

  “I think he’s broken,” Ivy whispered to me and I did my best to not roll my eyes.

  “He’s hiding,” I corrected, moving to the living room, pushing Wyatt off the damn couch and on to the floor so I could lay down. I wasn’t going to say a damn word, though I was interested in how the hell Calliope managed it, seeing as she wouldn’t fucking reply to me.

  I watched the shooting of McCluskey and Sollozzo when all of sudden the television turned off and we turned looked to her. She didn’t know this, but you don’t turn the fucking TV off when The Godfather was on.

  Ivy spoke to Wyatt. “Wyatt, your brother and I were about to talk about something important until your Gollum ass came over. So unless you have a good reason to be here, I’m going to ask you to leave—”

  “My girlfriend died today,” he said blankly, staring at her. I kept myself emotionless or else I would grin. “Some high lunatic stabbed her. I tried to help her. He slashed my arm. I wanted to blame Ethan. But what was I going to say? Why did you stop supplying drugs to the city? It sounded senseless even to me.”

  A high lunatic? How did she do it? The odds of just any crazed man finding his girlfriend were slim to none. It was Calliope, I was sure of it. She never failed to impress me. She really was an assassin. No one would ever think it was purposeful.

  Ivy looked to me and she actually looked pained. She really was unfit to be in this family.

  “Wyatt, I’m so sorry—”

  “I need a place to stay for a few hours,” he informed her. I could tell he didn’t give a shit about the woman. He was more pissed off about the movie. He held his hand up for the remote.

  “Why not your own place?” I asked when she handed the remote back to him.

  “Because people would come to check up on me. That’s what happens when people like you,” the little shit said, stuffing popcorn into his mouth. “Anyway, I really don’t have the energy to pretend to be sad in front of them, thanks to the crazy shifts I’ve been pulling.”

  That was not the answer I wanted, nor did I believe it. If he didn’t want to see anyone, he would have locked the damn door.

  He misses this. His pride just wouldn’t let him admit it. He explained himself to her and it was shameful that she couldn’t see the truth on her own. It was people like her that frustrated me; I didn’t understand how they couldn’t see the obvious. Wyatt and Dona could, but the problem was they were always a few steps behind. But, they are much smarter than those like the disgrace pretending to be my wife. “And if we must cry, we cry for family.”

  “And if we must cry, we cry for family,” I repeated. Our father had drilled it into our minds.

  Ivy came over to lay on my chest and I wanted to toss her off.

  “When are you going to kill the Finnegan brothers and get out of my city?” Wyatt asked and that was amusing. He was ready. He wanted to come home. Part of me wanted to make him beg, make him say it with his own mouth. But I didn’t have that type of time.

  “If it’s your city, why the fuck are you asking me to save it? Why don’t you kill them yourself?” I asked him.

  “The Hippocratic Oath,” he replied and I smacked the back of his head. Why the fuck did he have to be so goddamn difficult?

  “The great Ethan Callahan, a man so dangerous people die even when he does nothing,” Wyatt muttered.

  “Wyatt Callahan, a man so cunning he’s convinced the world he’s an angel,” I snapped. He wasn’t better than us…he was exactly the same.

  “I—”

  “Everyone but his siblings, of course. We know what you did in Chicago,” I went on and he paused. “I’m sure you did it for a good reason. Doesn’t change the fact that you did it, now, does it? That you’re just like the rest of us…both hero and villain.” A child Liam and Melody.

  We spoke more before he left, and Ivy went to look for more food. I pulled out to my phone to message her.

  “When you are finished your vacation, I’ll apologize. And you’ll kill her then.” I texted, though I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for. It didn’t really matter.

  “I won’t be free for another two weeks. You’re going to need to manage until then.”

  “Work?”

  “Our daughter is in a play at church.” she replied, and I held my hand over my mouth to hide my smile when she sent me a photo. Our daughter dressed as angel, halo and all.

  “I can manage. I’ll let the chaos grow here. Send me a video.”

  “I will.”

  “I miss you.” I waited, but she didn’t reply right away so I went on. “The more time I spend with women who are not you the more I realize I need you.”

  “Good.” She texted back. “And I miss you too…we both do. Is Wyatt ready?”

  I grinned. “No. Wyatt is still in denial. I’m going to have force him. Which means I might get hurt.”

  “That will bring your parents out.”

  “Aren’t you worried about me getting hurt?”

  “I’ll save you.” She replied. She enjoyed that role, being my hero. “So we are only getting Wyatt?”

  “I’m not sure if they will show and right now it doesn’t matter. We’ll get him back. And you can claim your bet.”

  “Finally.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been eating like a damn cow.” Ivy said as she came back with a large bowl of
noodles, two sandwiches, and bag of chips all on a tray.

  “Isn’t that normal for you?”

  “I’m not sharing,” she added, stuffing a fork full of noodles into her mouth. That did not help my opinion of her. However, it did prove that Calliope’s drugs were already doing a number on her. She’d never let what happened with Klarissa happen again.

  Wednesday, September 20th

  I said nothing and didn’t dare look away from her. Making it out of this alive depended on her staying focused. “You’re going to be all right.”

  “Maybe you don’t understand the situation here!” he yelled, and I still didn’t look at his face.

  BANG!

  I flinched for the first time since I was a child when he shot into her shoulder. She bit her bottom lip hard, swallowing her screams and her pain. The blood soaked through her blouse. She wasn’t strong enough. If he pushed her, she’d break down…and this would escalate. I needed this motherfucker alive so Wyatt could kill him.

  “Look at me!” he bellowed, and I did then, unable to stop my hands from shaking. It might have looked like fear, or even rage, but it was excitement.

  “Let. Her. Go,” I said through clenched teeth, trying not to laugh.

  “Fuck you!” I shouted, watching as her leg buckled and she fell forward, muted whimpers the only thing coming out of her mouth. He caught her and held her tight to him.

  When this was all over, I do believe I deserved an Oscar for my performance of the pissed-off husband.

  Before he could finish whatever the fuck he was saying, Ivy brought up her hand, holding a shard of something I’d broken, and swiped it across his face and over his eye as quickly as she could. “I have long arms, motherfucker!”

  Jesus motherfucking Christ, Ivy! Do nothing! I said fucking do nothing! Damn it why was it so hard? It was just a few bullets!

  Fine. Time for plan B.

  I lunged from the window over the couch, tackling him to the ground, my fist colliding with his face.

  “You little—” I started to yell, distracting him from the shift I made in my body, allowing him to shoot me.

  The plan was for me to have so much concern over Ivy I let him go. I’d be worried about saving Ivy’s life, and Wyatt would go kill him later. Of course, I didn’t tell Ivy her dying was part of the plan. I simply said Elroy wouldn’t kill her, and he wouldn’t. That was for Calliope to do in a similar manner that Ivy had done Klarissa. Calliope reveled in the irony of it all. And she called me dramatic.

  Then again, I did just let myself get shot.

  Elroy and I fought until—

  Bang!

  “Fucking shit—” he cried out, grabbing his shoulder.

  “Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?” Ivy said, pointing the pistol at him. He froze, staring at her. “You’re right. I’m a little insane. You shot me and my husband, Elroy. You threatened to rape me…IN OUR FUCKING HOUSE!”

  “Cousin—”

  “SHUT UP!”

  “Run,” I said to him. She’d lost perspective. She was enraged and would, in fact, kill him if she could. I didn’t need her fucking things up any more than she already had.

  “Ethan—”

  “Run. Let’s call this one a draw. Head down the stairs, to the basement, go out through the window. None of the cops will get you. This is between us men. You really want her to kill you? Go. And pray we don’t meet again.”

  “Ethan!” Ivy screamed.

  “Ivy, do not shoot him!” I snapped at her. “He’s mine to kill.”

  And I’d already chosen how he was going to die. She had forgotten everything I said to her. Freaking useless woman.

  “Watch to make sure he leaves,” I had to tell her because she didn’t have the sense to. “Lock down the house.”

  “I wanted to kill him. I could have killed him.”

  I don’t care about what you want, or think you could have done. You don’t have the mind for either.

  “You only had one bullet.” You damn idiot!

  I slid to the ground, staring at my own blood in my hands. Today really wasn’t my day. But that was fine; there would be much better days very soon.

  I’m losing too much blood.

  Squinting, I focused on her. I needed her to get herself together and calm down. “G…et…get Wyatt…no one else.”

  Of course, she started to panic and ramble. I needed my brother and I needed Calliope And they couldn’t get in until she fucking opened the door and stepped out.

  “Wife, I need you first to keep calm, go upstairs, clean up as best as you can—”

  “Ethan!”

  “LISTEN TO ME!” I yelled, more because I hated the way she said my name with fear, with pain. It proved she didn’t trust my plans, my vision, my mind.

  I could barely hear or remember the words I was saying to her but finally the fearful, teary, child-like woman disappeared, and she got up and ran off.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing she wouldn’t hear. I’d broken my promise. I’d manipulated her again. What a sad life she had. From beginning to end she was just a pawn. I closed my eyes, feeling myself drift off.

  “You’re apologizing to her?”

  My eyes snapped back open to find a pair of grey eyes staring back at me. She wore a scowl on her face.

  “La mia anima.”

  CALLIOPE - AGE 26

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Wednesday, September 20th

  “La mia anima,” he said so happily and with such a genuine smile I couldn’t help but smile back. How he still managed to be so damn handsome while covered in blood was a mystery to me.

  “You should be apologizing me,” I said to him as I opened my bag, pulling out a vial and a syringe. I filled the syringe, tapping it once, the red liquid coming out before I pushed his head to the side and injecting it in his neck.

  “Forgive me, I’m not in my right mind right now,” he whispered with a smile on his face. He reached up touching my cheek with his bloody hand. “You’re like an angel.”

  “Are you dying or high?” I couldn’t help but kiss his lips gently. “Your parents are outside. They’re in disguise. Your father is playing firefighter and your mother a doctor.”

  His eyes widened, and his jaw cracked to the side. I nodded, knowing what he was going to say.

  “I got photos. You are right. I know you knew you were right, but now there can never be even the slightest doubt. They are alive. So what do you want me to do?”

  “Let…them go…everything is a bit messy now,” he said softly, starting to drift off.

  “I understand.” A reunion with him bleeding out on the ground was not how he wanted to meet them. I took his hands, kissing them. “Fine. But Ivy fucked up.”

  “Kill her,” he demanded, closing his eyes.

  Before I could say anything, I heard the door and got up, hurrying to the closet.

  “Ethan!” Ivy screamed as she dropped to her knees next to him on the brink of tears. I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they’d fall out of my head.

  “Ethan, look, I got him. I got Wyatt. Ethan, open your eyes, come on. Wyatt, help him!” She went on with her crying.

  How Ethan managed her voice was beyond me. He really convinced her he loved her.

  I looked at Wyatt who was frozen with guilt. Luckily, he got over it quickly. Bending down next to him, he mentioned taking Ethan to a hospital and I put my hand on my head.

  Wyatt, when are you going to be who he needs you to be?

  “Then fix him! Save him!” Ivy screamed. That’s what she did, screamed and cried. It was pathetic. “Did you forget who you are? Who he is? He’s a Callahan! You’re both Callahans. How bad will it look if he goes out like this, barely hanging on? He knew you’d be out there. He told me to find you. So, I did. Shot…and…ugh…” she cried. I bit back a groan.

  Nice speech.

  “Ivy—” Wyatt stopped when she rested her head on Ethan’s chest…his bleeding chest. Bloody fucking moron.r />
  It took me a second as I watched through the small crack in the door. She was hunched over in pain. “Shot, bleeding, in pain, and having a miscarriage, I found you. So save him, please…please, Wyatt, please. Save him, please,” she begged, back to crying.

  If it wasn’t serious, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was waiting for these two…chicken heads…to fucking do something to save the man I loved, I would have laughed. Miscarriage? She thought she was pregnant?

  No, Ivy, that pain you are feeling is the early stages of sepsis. You’re dying. I’m using the man who you think you love to kill you. The poison I’d instructed Ethan to give her plus the stress was causing her bleeding, among other things. If she’d gone to a hospital, she’d know that. But I knew from the first time I saw her in jail that she didn’t trust or like hospitals, so why not use that to my advantage?

  I listened and watched, ignoring the pounding in my chest. He’d be fine. He had to be. I hadn’t given him permission to die yet.

  “For some reason his blood has thickened. It’s the only thing keeping him from bleeding out. Was he taking anything?” Wyatt asked her, and I nodded as if he could hear me. Like I said, he didn’t have my permission to die.

  Chapter 17

  “A queen—a queen who bowed to no one, a queen who had faced them all down and triumphed.”

  ~Sarah J. Maas

  CALLIOPE - AGE 26

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Wednesday, September 20th

  “You didn’t kill her,” he stated, his annoyance and confusion clear in his voice.

  “I didn’t.” I glanced up from my tablet as he came into the kitchen. His blood, now dark red and starting to dry up, was still on the ground. He stood shirtless with a bandage wrapped around his stomach, and he limped slightly as he held his wound. Getting up, I walked over to him and he said nothing, putting his arm over my shoulder. I tried to help him walk forward but he took the opportunity to hug me instead. I stood still for a second before hugging him back tightly, trying to avoid his wound. Taking a deep breath, I let go of him.