by J. J. McAvoy
“Since you have confessed my past sins for me, I shall confess my future ones.” I felt the rage and hate crawl up inside me as I thought about it. “I will kill my mother. I swear it.”
He was silent. We were both silent for what seemed like forever.
“Honor thy father and thy mother, Melody. Of all sins to break among man, the one you speak of is…”
“Honor thy father and thy mother?” I snapped; it was my turn to cut him off. “Where is honor thy child? Why is that not written in stone somewhere for us to hold above our heads? Some fathers and mothers should not be honored! Some should not even be given the title.”
“What was done to you, my child?” he whispered, but I didn’t answer. Instead I stared out at the stained glass.
It made me think of my childhood.
“When I was a child, the church was the only place I felt at peace. I would lie in the pews and stare up at the paintings on the ceiling. Sometimes I would speak to God, sometimes I would dream, but often times I would think about my mom. Wishing she would come find me, worried because she couldn’t find me in the house. I even prayed about it and God never answered. I knew that wasn’t how it worked. But, I was angry. In my mind, he was Santa Claus, and the one thing I wanted, he wouldn’t give me.” I sighed at my own stupidity, “Here I am, years later, and my mother is alive and well.”
“Is that not something to be thankful for?” he asked, slightly confused.
I looked to the screen blocking our faces. “Not when she is worse than I am…far worse, and sadly, I’m not being sarcastic.”
“I see.” I could feel his worry even though I couldn’t see it. “Is there a sin I can ask the father to forgive, one in which you regret?”
I thought for a moment.
“I shot my husband.” I said.
“Is he still alive?” he asked with amusement.
“Yes.” For now. “He’s still alive. I shot him out of anger, and I’m sorry for it. I abuse him often, actually.”
“You don’t seem regretful,” he added.
“I am.” That wasn’t a lie. “ I lov…I love him. But, I’m not good with caring for anyone but myself, my own needs. With each passing day, I notice more and more sex won’t distract him.”
“Distract him from what?”
I knew I set myself up for this, but I didn’t want to think about it.
“Distract him from getting even closer to you,” he answered his own question. “You love him, but you live a life of constant loss. You do not want to hurt him. You do not want to love him. You’d rather push him away because you want to have control over how you lose him…if you lose him.”
I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to admit to it. But he was right. It was one of the reasons why I came back every week. He was the only one outside of the family that did not judge and could never speak about our conversations, even with a gun to his head.
“Yes, Father,” I whispered finally.
“Pray to our mother for guidance and loving heart. Ask our father for the strength to forgive. Go and do these things, for you are forgiven, my child. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.”
“His mercy endures forever, Amen.” I blessed myself before leaving my peaceful confessional at the back of the church.
I mentally sighed at the sight of Coraline and Olivia, both sitting up front in the pews. Taking care of the family was trying—all their issues, their problems, hopes and fears. I wanted to go back into the confessional and just rest. But it was my job, mine and Liam’s, to take care of the family, to keep things going, to keep each other safe.
Despite all the killing we’d done, that really wasn’t our role. We weren’t hired killers. We were business people who sometimes had to bash a few heads in to make sure things got done.
That was part one.
Part two was to make sure the family was happy and safe. That meant listening and handling problems in their lives. Yes, there were times when we had to knock some sense into them, but that was the life.
My red heels echoed throughout the church as I walked right past them and towards the altar to light a candle before kneeling to pray. I believed in God, but talking to him was difficult. I was a conversation starter. I listened and reacted. Liam was the talker.
I wasn’t sure how long I had been kneeling there before I heard Coraline or Olivia’s cell phone vibrate for what had to be the ninth time. Rising, I turned to them; I wanted to chuck a motherfucking candle in one of their faces.
Do not kill in the lord’s house. Do not kill in the lord’s house.
“I’m sorry, it’s Evelyn,” Coraline whispered. “We’re late for the charity brunch.”
“We’re Callahans, we’re never late. Everyone else is early and impatient,” I stated as I grabbed the phone from her and turned it off before taking my kneeling stance back at the altar.
But no sooner had my knees touched the pillow did Olivia’s phone go off. I turned towards her again, and the fear that crossed her face meant that she saw the hell I would unleash on her if she didn’t shut her phone off immediately. She did, which only made my private phone go off.
Looking up at the cross, I sighed. “You see what I go through?”
LIAM
“When did you get so good at hand-to-hand combat?” Declan snickered as I dodged Neal’s fist.
“I’ll do my best not to take that as an insult.” I grunted, blocking my face before jumping back and landing one to the side of Neal’s face.
He and I danced around the ring, staring down each other like hungry lions.
Over the last year, this had been my and Neal’s thing. After years of not speaking to each other, except when needed, we were working ourselves back to brotherly status. I wasn’t sure how long that would take, but every Saturday, while my beautiful wife was at confession and her charity, we boxed. When Neal was in his fighting mode, there was no speaking, just calculated attacks. He was almost like a robot. But in the moments in between our attempts at killing each other, there was a look or a smirk that passed between us. That smirk said far more than any words. We were in a much better place than we were a year ago.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, ducking down slightly as Neal’s fist came towards my jaw. “My wife tries to murder me every other week. A few of those times, have in fact led to combat…amongst other things.”
“One day your dick is going to fall off. I’m just not sure what will castrate you first; the sex, or the fighting before the sex.” Declan laughed.
“The sex,” my father said from the sideline. “You do know the walls are thin enough that every sound carries, right? We all can hear you.”
“I know, I just don’t give a fuck.” I tried to punch Neal once more, but he blocked. “It’s my damn house, if we want to make love in the center of the dining table at dinner, we shall.”
“Please don’t,” he said.
“She puts a bullet in your thigh and you make love? I still don’t understand your relationship. After a year, she still hasn’t warmed up to you,” Declan said as Neal kicked into my side.
Of course he would think that. My Mel didn’t show much emotion other than anger or fake kindness in public. However, it was different when we were alone. We had gone from murderous fuck buddies, to husband and wife. She let me hold her, which often led to more sex. But even after that, we’d fall asleep in each other’s arms. She didn’t say ‘I love you’ as often as I did, but when she did, it made me want to stay in bed with her forever. Love wasn’t her thing. She struggled with it. How could they expect someone who never really received love to express it to others? I wasn’t going to push her any more than I already had.
“How can you understand my relationship when you’re just beginning to understand your own?” I grunted out as Neal bore down on me. The damn giant.
“Prick,” he yelled. “We’re in therapy.”
“Something I still do not agree with,” Sedric snapped. “I don’t und
erstand why you allowed such a thing, Liam. Matters within the family should be handled by the family or a priest, if you insist.”
“It has been helping. We’re finally talking and not yelling anymore. There was so much I didn’t see or simply overlooked. I’ve learned loving someone isn’t enough,” Declan said, and I could see Neal smirk for a split second before I knocked it off his face.
“I allowed it. That wife of his destroyed a million dollars worth of equipment, with a baseball bat…my baseball bat. I almost preferred it when she gave all our money away to charities,” I answered just before Neal took me down.
“She gives because of her parents—it’s the only way she feels needed. She likes being there for others because at least then they see her. If I told you how her parents treated her…” He sounded worse than me, and I was the one who was getting my face pounded in.
“Couldn’t you have spoken to me and your aunt? We would have helped.”
“Both of us would have felt like you were being judgmental. We know you wouldn’t, but we wanted to speak to someone on the same playing field as us…”
“We’re Callahans, no one is on the same damn playing field as us!” I yelled out, flipping over and returning the favor to Neal.
“Fine, someone under us then.” He rolled his eyes. “Either way, it’s working. We were even going to have sex for the first time in months, before your wife came in like the fucking Terminator!”
“Please, file your complaint with the office of ‘I Don’t Give a Fuck’ and I’ll be sure not to get back to you!”
It wasn’t my fault their sexual needs came at the wrong time.
“Well, your highness, I was wondering if we could handle her parents as retribution,” he said, forcing me to look up at him. Sure enough, he was as serious as ever.
Neal took the opportunity to punch me in the jaw and put me in a chokehold. I tried to fight my way out, but he had the upper hand. Sadly, I was going to lose this round.
Thank you, homicidal Declan.
I tapped out and Neal released his hold on me.
Sitting up, I took a few deep breaths before I rose and walked over to the edge of the ring. “We aren’t killing her parents,” I said before squirting the water into my mouth then pouring some over my head.
Declan glared at me. “I said handle, not kill. Besides, they fucked with her…”
“They fucked—past tense. The wounds Coraline has from that will heal. Have you even asked her if she wanted them dead?” I glared back and he shook his head. “And this is why you’re in therapy. Stop acting for your wife and act with her you idiot. Coraline isn’t the same mouse of a wife you had before. You can thank my wife for that, for whatever good and bad that causes. Nevertheless, if Coraline wants something, she will ask you.”
“She would want to handle them.” His eyes darkened.
“They’re her parents,” Neal finally spoke out. “Regardless of what they’ve done, they’re still her parents. Yes, she remembers the bad, but she will always remember the good as well, however short it was. It’s not as easy to kill family as everyone makes it seem.”
“This moment of wisdom was brought to you by—” I was cut off as a water bottle came flying at my head. I caught it and laughed.
“He’s right though,” our father replied. “We can’t just keep killing everyone...especially our in-laws.”
True, we were running out of places to hide the bodies. I snickered at the thought.
“Speaking of killing, Fedel has informed me that they found another one of the men who raped Olivia,” I said bluntly, and I felt them stiffen. Neal however, looked like stone. I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it because Mel and Olivia weren’t.
Mel had informed me of the finding during our shower together, which effectively killed my hard on. By the time we went downstairs, my mother was crying; Declan was already on the phone, and my father and Neal were all ready to go to war. It was the first time my mother demanded to me that I kill someone immediately. When Olivia told her she was going to do it herself, she froze. I stared into her eyes then nodded.
The next morning, breakfast was a silent affair, and I knew that everyone was lost in thought. Well, not everyone. It was a little twisted, maybe a bit sick of me, but my wife had made me horny and I couldn’t help but reach under the table to finger her. Not one of them noticed, but watching my wife fight back a moan was damn sexy.
“So, how is she going to do this?” Declan asked pulling me out of my sweet thoughts.
“She’s murdered one already,” I answered, grabbing a towel as we headed to the sauna room. I dropped my pants right there before entering without a care.
“From what I understand, Mel pulled it out of her,” Declan hissed at the steam, stretching slightly.
Sedric poured the water over the stones before leaning back. “Now that she’s done it, I doubt the second time will be as hard as the first. I say she should cut the motherfucker’s balls off and make him eat them.”
That was a disgusting thought, but it fit the crime.
“Whatever she chooses, it’s up to her,” Neal tried to end the conversation.
He hated thinking about it and I didn’t blame him. I looked at Olivia differently now; her past explained many of her actions over the past few years, and I wondered how Neal felt. I could never know or want to know. I doubted it could happen to a woman like Mel, but I didn’t want to ever tempt fate with such a thing.
“We aren’t going after Aviela DeRosa,” I told them, shifting the heat from Neal.
“Neal, I think you hit him too hard,” my father said, causing them to snicker. “She killed your wife’s father, uncle and grandfather. Not to mention, she left said wife to die as a child.”
“Really, Father? I didn’t know.” Of course I fucking knew. I told him, “There are too many pieces to the puzzle. Like, why the hell would she have a child with a man she hated and planned to kill?”
“Or why did she choose that method in killing them? She poisoned Orlando for six bloody years, that takes dedication and patience,” Neal said.
Patience wasn’t one of our strong suits. Well, maybe with the exception of Declan.
“Maybe she likes it? Maybe that’s how she gets off,” Declan wondered, but my father shook his head.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “It doesn’t match the profile of a hired killer. Their job is to kill and leave no trails and move on. Aviela’s way does that, but it means investing more time than she would want.”
“Like I said, too many missing pieces. Monte will be looking into it. Mel and I have too much to do to get wrapped up in the mysteries of her family’s past right now,” I said. “We’re still trying to fix all the damage that Valero did last year. Most of our heroin stock in Mexico was destroyed. However, we’re now smuggling it in from Afghanistan…their shit is better anyway.” I sighed, rubbing my shoulder.
“It’s better, but its costs us more,” Declan added. “If we raise the prices, we lose our lower end druggies. Sadly, there aren’t enough rock stars to live off of.”
He had a point.
“Things were much easier in your day, right, Pop? The whole free love and shit? You could just hide the smack in your bellbottoms? Or were you all still wearing the Larry King suspenders?” Neal snorted and my father glared at him.
“Yes, Neal, when the dinosaurs ran the across the earth, shit was easier,” he snapped, causing Declan and I to laugh.
“It won’t cost us so much anymore,” I replied, pouring more water over the stones.
“Care to share?” my father asked. The nosy prick.
They all waited and I rolled my eyes. “We just donated to a few cemeteries.”
“This helps how?” Declan pushed.
“Soldiers die. What better way to bring our product into the country but with the help of Uncle Sam?” They all just stared, as the possibilities sank in.
“That’s fucking brilliant,” Neal said. “It will become even eas
ier when Colemen becomes President.” He grinned.
“Mel’s idea?” My father looked at me.
I glared. My inner brat wanted to say it was teamwork, but it really was Mel’s idea.
“We’ll also be smuggling in marijuana seeds as well. All of which will be growing in Colorado,” I added, changing the subject.
Neal looked confused. “Why Colorado?”
I sighed, feeling the urge to throw a hot rock at his face.
“Don’t you ever watch the news?” Declan snapped.
“No, it’s too depressing,” he said. “They start the night off with a ‘good evening’, and then they go on to tell you all the reasons why it’s a shitty night all across the country.”
My father sighed like he did when we were kids, when we did, or said, something he couldn’t understand.
“They legalized weed, dipshit,” he said, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was just a regular Saturday morning with the family.
“I wonder if the girls’ conversations are like this.” Declan laughed.
“It’s not and it’s probably killing my poor wife.” I could see her now, thinking of clawing her eyes out with a fork. “One wrong move, you may want to watch the news tonight, Neal.”
MELODY
“Kill me…” I uttered out loud as they brought another painting for us to bid on. The money they raised would go towards the building of some stupid elementary school.
“Now come on, ladies, get out those checkbooks, call your husbands if you must. This school is just too important not to!” the peppy woman up front yelled.
In my fingers was a small fork. I knew I could throw it with just enough force to shut her up. However, Evelyn placed her hand on my wrist—again—and took the fork from me.
I sighed and sat back in my seat, watching the women pay anywhere from five to nine hundred dollars for any given artwork.
“Thank you all so much, we’re doing so well, we only have nineteen paintings left! Come on, ladies, I know you want them,” the stupid woman called out again.
Nineteen more? Nineteen motherfucking paintings more? I can’t do it. I can’t. I will claw my own damn eyes out with a spoon if I have to sit through one more painting.