Vicious Minds: Part 3 (Children of Vice Book 6)

by J. J. McAvoy

  “Sedric—I—It wasn’t just me who wanted her dead, Helen—”

  “Her mother’s death already fucking protected her! If not that, Helen has Wyatt to protect her. Even if Ethan did not forgive her for all that, she saved their daughter. She can be forgiven. But you? What are we supposed to do?”

  She was silent.

  What was she expecting?

  What were any of us expecting? Dad said those who go against the family ended up paying the worst price. I thought he meant death.

  This felt worse. If Nari died, I’d be sad, but I’d understand. She would pay for her own actions. What was I supposed to do? Kill her? Let Ethan kill her? Forgive her?

  I didn’t know what to do. My chest felt as if it were about to explode. “Leave,” I managed out, holding my mother as she sobbed loudly into me.

  “What?”

  “Get out of this house, Nari.”

  “Sedric—”

  “Don’t ever come back. If Mother wants to see you one day, she will come to you. But don’t come to Chicago. Don’t ever show us your face again!”

  “Sedric you—”

  “You’re dead to me!” I bit my lip, hanging my head. “I will never forgive you. But I can’t let you die, either. Dad loved you. So just leave. Leave before everyone else finds out what you did—before Ethan comes back. I’m embarrassed you are even my sister. I do not know how I will face Nana. Go, before we bury you, too. I said, go!”

  Quickly she got off the floor, leaving only my mother and me.

  That was all that was left.

  She had broken us.

  My own sister broke us.

  CALLIOPE

  “Two shots to the head for each of them,” the coroner said as she showed me all of their bodies, laid out on cold slabs. “Then he turned the gun on himself.”

  I walked up to my mother’s body. She was still in her nightgown, her face was shattered. The coroner's office had done their best to make her look somewhat presentable, but there was only so much that could be done.

  “Would you like a moment alone?” she asked me gently.

  Sniffling a bit, I did.

  The lady passed me a tissue box before she quietly walked through the double doors. I waited until the doors closed back on themselves before looking at my family.

  “Mom, you always thought it was going to be me who did you in,” I replied, leaning beside her. “You were almost right. But I guess I wasn’t the biggest monster in the family, now was I? All that prayer, and it was your husband who snapped?”

  There was no answer.

  I would never hear her beg or cry.

  My sisters and I would never be close.

  There would never be forgiveness.

  There wouldn’t even be closure.

  No one would ever truly and meaningfully apologize.

  Roman had left me a message. It simply read, “All the devils are on earth, why would I fear hell? We will have our peace together without you.”

  I realized then that somehow he knew I would live. I wondered what he thought I had done? Gave up on my daughter and let her die? Killed all of the family and come looking for him, to save Gigi only he’d already be dead. Laughing at me because I had no options. He had killed himself and the family not for peace…but to run from me and to hurt me.

  Coward.

  Looking at their bodies, I hung my head, I took a deep breath, the feeling in my chest that I never thought I’d truly feel. My eyes began to burn from the tears. I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

  I laughed.

  I laughed from my gut.

  I laughed so hard that my tears fell from my eyes.

  “Thank you, all, you fucking useless pieces of shit did something good for me, for once.” I laughed. It would take an effort to spin this shit. It would take time to make people forget. But I had time. I could be patient.

  They were dead.

  All my fucking enemies were dead, not all of them the way I had planned, but who gave a flying fuck.

  “Hahaha…ah! Merry Christmas to me! I deserve it!” Standing straighter, I exhaled in relief. “You all fucking hear me? Thank you. Truly. Now I’m going to forget you all.”

  I would bury Calliope Orsini with them.

  “Vengeance is mine so saith the Lord”…that quote came from Romans.

  21

  “Don’t promise to live forever

  Promise to forever live while you’re alive.”

  ~Atticus

  WYATT

  She hadn’t gotten better.

  It had been four days.

  Four days that felt like four years, and no matter what I did, what I gave her, she didn’t get better. It was almost as if she refused to get better. Like she was…like she’d given up.

  “Nana?” I whispered when her eyes began to open. Her eyes darted around the room.

  “Ethan?”

  I shook my head. It hurt. Every time she opened her eyes, she looked for Ethan. I didn’t understand why. Nor did I understand why we hadn’t heard from him, either. Not even Calliope. Though she didn’t seem in the least bit worried. She’d spent all of her time in damage control. Creating cover stories, paying off officials, meeting with the Irish and Italian families; she’d even gifted many of them whatever it was they needed, from food to new cars. One moment she was their fairy godmother, the next she was The Godmother, crushing brutally any man who dared question her order of the business. Everyone was waiting to hear from Ethan; Calliope had made it clear that they were one and the same.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” My grandmother's voice was so soft I had to lean in more to hear her. Her eyes were barely open.

  “Nothing,” I lied, and she saw right through me.

  She placed her hand on my face. “Calliope?”

  “Nana, how are you feeling?” I asked, touching her forehead.

  She didn’t answer. She just looked at me.

  “Are you cold? Hot? In pain?”

  “You’ve always brightened my day, you know that?”

  For some reason, that didn’t make me feel any better. Instead, it hurt. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself to smile, stroking her hair gently. “Of course, I know, Nana. I’m your favorite. Everyone loves me.”

  “See. No matter how sad you are, you try to make others smile.”

  “Me? Sad? When can I see you? Never.”

  “Wyatt—”

  “Nana, rest. Okay. Just rest—” I tried to get up, but she held me onto me with a surprising grip.

  “Wyatt.”

  “Please don’t say anything silly, Nana. You’re going to get better.”

  “Listen to me, sweetheart.”

  I bit my lip and hung my head.

  “When I’m gone—”

  “Nana, no.” I shook my head. Trying to let go. “You aren’t going anywhere—”

  “Wyatt.”

  Blinking away my tears, she went on. “When I’m gone, don’t stop brightening this house. Okay? Ethan doesn’t say it, but he loves your humor.”

  I scoffed. “Nana, Ethan likes silence.”

  “If he liked silence, why would he love Calliope?”

  I frowned. “Because he’s also a bit crazy?”

  “He’s silent because his mind is always racing. Loud people, fun people, dramatic people, they help pull him from his thoughts and let him live. Why do you think he works so hard to make sure you are all around him?”

  “Nana, why are you so concerned about that selfish jerk? Look, he doesn’t even have the decency to be here,” I meant it partially as a joke, but part of me was angry.

  “Because I’ve always felt bad for those who have had to lead this family. It isn’t easy. Do you know how many times we’ve almost lost it all? How many times we’ve buried our loved ones? Family is a burden. It’s easy to be mad at him. I’m sure he’s mad at us at times, too. But we Callahans stick together even when we all want to kill each other. When I’m gone, someone will have to be th
e bridge between him and the rest of the family. Mina and Declan aren’t going to be up to it for a while. So, it has to be you.”

  My throat hurt. All of me hurt. “Nana, I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can. You’ve been doing it already.”

  “No, I betrayed him. He’ll—”

  “He’ll forgive. Don’t believe he won’t even if he says otherwise. Stay by him always. Let him vent. Let him yell or break things. But be right there. He will forgive you.”

  “Calliope—”

  “Doesn’t understand family yet. Give her time. It took your mom time. It took me time. It takes time. You are all so young, but you’ll grow more.”

  “Okay, Nana, that’s enough. Just rest, okay?”

  “Promise me. Promise me you’ll do everything you can to keep the peace. Promise me you won’t lose faith in your brother again?”

  Ugh. Dammit. I hated this.

  “Umm.” I nodded. “Yeah.”

  She smiled. “Tell me when Ethan gets here.”

  Again, I nodded, watching as she went back to sleep. Kissing her forehead, I rose, cleaning my eyes.

  Why?

  Why did she have to say all of this? Why did she…why was she leaving us?

  Stepping out of the room, I picked up my phone again. I dialed Ethan’s number, but it didn’t even ring. It went straight to his voicemail. “Pick up your damn phone, you idiot.” I dialed again, but it was the same.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I glanced up at Calliope, dressed in a dark high-waisted satin skirt with a black sweater to match her black hat and designer heels. Gigi was beside her in a matching outfit.

  “What’s wrong?” I snapped, and her eyes narrowed.

  Turning from me, she looked down at her daughter. “Gigi, go sit by Nana, okay?”

  “Yes, Mommy. Good morning, Uncle,” she said to me, but all I could do was nod, stepping aside to let her in.

  “What have I done to make you all angry at me now?” Calliope asked when the door closed.

  Inhaling through my nose, I shook my head. “Never mind, have you heard from Ethan?”

  “Nope.”

  The casual way she said it nearly made me want to strangle her. It was like she was blatantly lying or didn’t care!

  “Your husband has been missing for days? And all you can think to say is nope? Can’t you even pretend to be a little bit concerned?”

  “Nope,” she replied. “I see everyone is a bit sad at this moment, so should I come back to talk to you about funeral arrangements?”

  “What?”

  “Neal and most likely—”

  “Shut up.”

  She frowned, walking forward. “It seems like I’ll have to talk to Evelyn personally.”

  “You touch that door, and I will kill you,” I sneered, stepping in her path.

  “Don’t threaten me. I don’t take that lightly.”

  Cracking my jaw, I forced myself to take a deep breath. “I apologize. However, I won’t let you upset her. And bringing up funerals now will—”

  “Bringing up funerals is upsetting. But they must be brought up. People know that your uncle has died. They are waiting for information and to pay their respects.”

  “I don’t care—”

  “I know. No one seems to care. Everyone is hurt. Everyone is licking their wounds in different corners of this house. But guess what? The world does not stop because you are hurt.”

  “Would you be saying the same thing if it were Gigi who died instead?”

  “I honestly don’t know. And I am happy I don’t know. Wyatt, this painful, but this is what has to be done. So, either you help me, or I go to Evelyn.”

  “If you are so determined to do this, and everything else, why don’t you do it on your own?”

  “Because I do not know what Neal liked or what is customary for your family. I’ve already contacted the family priest as well as made arrangements with the family cemetery. The bigger details have been taken care of. I do not mind doing everything. However, I don’t know if Mina wants lilies or white roses? Is there a certain hymn that should be played? Neal’s will only contained information on his assets, nothing else—nothing of his final wishes.”

  I paused because it dawned on me that she was being considerate in her own way.

  “Where did you go today?” I asked, looking over her outfit again. During mourning, our family always wore black with a touch of green somewhere. She’d chosen to wear an emerald four-leaf clover broach.

  “Gigi and I just came back from mass.”

  Today was Sunday? I’d lost track of the days.

  “You went to mass?”

  “Like I said, people are watching, Wyatt. Someone has to watch them back.” She lifted a small tablet for me. “Here is a list of everything I have collected so far. Look over it to make sure I haven’t missed anything of importance. I won’t say anything about it to Evelyn so long as you fill whatever gaps I need.”

  It was the most anal and detailed list I had ever seen in my life. She had created everything from seating charts to how long everyone’s speeches should be. The very first speech was for Ethan. As well as a host of things for families to speak with all of them listed in order. She even had a special seat for my grandmother.

  “You made space for my grandmother?”

  “I made space for hope. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.” That was all she said before going into the room.

  After everything that had happened, after everything I already knew about her, part of me couldn’t let go of my hate. Why? I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because it was so hard for me to know who was the real her. Was Calliope being considerate now? Or was she only pretending? Was she some evil mastermind who had killed my brother and was trying to take over our entire family? Was I reading too much into things? Would I ever really know her? Was it my place to know her? I guessed this was what Nana was talking about.

  Having faith.

  Ethan seemed to know her well enough to risk everything. He had that type of blind faith in her for some reason. Maybe once again, he could see something I couldn’t see. Maybe one day, when we were both old and gray with achy bones, we’d talk about this moment in time.

  Lifting my phone, I dialed him once again, and once again, he didn’t answer.

  CALLIOPE

  “You are not allowed to die,” I said to her, and she smiled at me.

  “I don’t think you have that type of power, my dear,” responded.

  “If you have the energy for comebacks, you should have the energy to live, Evelyn.”

  “I did not realize you cared so much.”

  “This family can’t handle much more loss.”

  “I’m happy you care,” she replied, not at all understanding what it was that I was trying to say. Instead, she outstretched her hand for me to take.

  I looked at her old, thin fingers, not sure what holding her hand would accomplish, and in my hesitation, Gigi took it. My eyes drifted to my daughter, who had sat quietly on the bed beside her great grandmother. Ever since she’d woken up and she’d heard, despite my efforts, about what had happened to Uncle Neal, she’d been quiet.

  “Nana, I’m sorry,” Gigi whispered.

  “Whatever for, precious?” Nana asked.

  Her eyes weld up with tears. “Uncle is gone cause of me.”

  I opened my mouth to tell her she was wrong; however, Evelyn beat me to it.

  “No,” the older woman said with tears in her eyes, “this isn’t your fault. Bad things happen, okay? Bad things happen, but you have to be strong, precious…and…” The tears slipped from her eyes.

  Reaching over, I petted Gigi’s hair. “Sweetheart, go wash your face in the bathroom, okay? Nana and I need to talk.”

  In truth, I wanted her out of the room, so she didn’t make it harder on Evelyn, but I didn’t feel comfortable letting her out of my sight right now.

  “Yes, Mommy,” she said, climbing off the bed.

&nbs
p; I waited for her to go before taking Evelyn’s hand. “See, this why you aren’t allowed to die. You’re the rock of the family. Even when your heart is broken, and you are in pain, you still try to comfort everyone else. Who’s going to do that when you are gone?”

  “I can’t live forever, Calliope.”

  “Of course not. I’m only asking for another decade or two.”

  She laughed even as she cried. “That is asking for a lot.”

  “Really? I don’t think so.”

  “Everyone will be fine.”

  “No,” I shook my head and squeezed her hand. “Ethan will not be fine. You know that. And while I want him to hurt for what he did to me, I don’t want him going off the edge because of you. How will I explain that to him when he gets back?”

  “Have you heard from him?”

  I shook my head again. I hadn’t heard a word, and I’d checked. I’d called. I had even hacked into surveillance feeds to check where the Orsini house once stood; however, it was gone. Nothing but burnt rumble. Italian police reports were silent, the only news was that there was a fire. That gave me confidence because someone had to make sure they remained silent. Ethan. But why wasn’t the son of a bitch answering me then?

  “You are worried about him.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.

  “Me? Worried about him? No, I’m worried about myself. If he is gone any longer, there will be a full rebellion.”

  “Calliope, it’s okay to show you have feelings.”

  “I do.”

  “I mean your real feelings.”

  Feelings show weakness. Weaknesses are exploited. That equals death. That was what I had always been taught. Never show all of your hand. Don’t even show it all to yourself. Be like water, fluid and ever-changing during circumstances. The one time I wasn’t, Ethan was able to trick me.

  “It was good to see you angry and hurt, bashing cars and ready to light the whole house on fire.” She laughed and then coughed.

  “Careful,” I said, helping her.

  She shook her head at me. “The family doesn’t trust you because they can’t understand you. They doubt Ethan because they don’t understand him, either. You both are very much alike and yet so different. It’s good.”