by J. J. McAvoy
“When will he be here?” Neal asked, not bothered at all. Out of all of he was the only one our grandfather “liked”. If he had it his way, our grandfather would have killed me a long time ago.
“I don’t give a fuck, he isn’t staying here! He can take his old motherfucking cane and shov—”
“Shove it where, grandson?” The devil himself said, dressed in a ten thousand dollar suit, as my mother opened the door for him and his three bodyguards.
My father, Neal, Declan and even my own mother stood up straighter, each one of them gave my grandfather the respect his title commanded. I may be the one who ran the Callahan clan now, but my grandfather was the one who built it. He was the original. Before him, we were a bunch of street thugs. He created our empire after being a drug runner for a boss much older and wiser than himself. One day, he snapped and took an ax to the motherfucker. War broke out. My grandfather had three very simple skills: killing, thinking and stealing. If he wanted something, he could have it.
“I think he was going to say, ‘shove it up your old ass.’” Mel stated with ease, causing the whole family to pause. Even I couldn’t speak to the asshole like that.
No matter how high up I was, no matter how powerful, custom made it impossible. When our grandfather passed down the family business, he had my father sign a contract—the same one I had to sign—stating that he’d get five percent of everything, and that he was always treated with respect deserved. Everything was put into writing like this was some civilized business deal. It used to be based on honor, but everyone wised up to that real quick. Families had to sign their souls away in ink to make sure people knew their place.
His wrinkled old hand tightly gripped his wooden cane as he took a step forward. If you were to age my father thirty years and give him silver hair, he and my grandfather would look exactly the same.
As children, Declan and I used to joke that the reason he had so few wrinkles was the fact that he would scare them away when he looked in the mirror. Though now he did look rather worn out.
“You must be the Italian cow now sharing my last name.” He looked her up and down with disgust. As I stood, Mel glared, telling me to back the down or else.
She moved from behind the desk and stood directly in front of his face, causing his bodyguards to step forward as well.
“Old man, you’re in my house. That makes you a fucking guest. I don’t owe you shit and you will respect me if you want my respect. My name is Melody. Mrs. Callahan if it suits you, but…” She leaned in until their noses were almost touching. She was shorter, but the black heels helped. “If you ever call me a cow again, I will kill you painfully slow. I don’t care how many motherfucking body guards you have.”
Two of his bodyguards drew their guns and the last had a knife hidden in his sleeve.
Shit. I thought as she pulled her gun. Declan and Neal were already backing her up. My father just rolled his eyes and took my mother into the corner, all while drinking his brandy. This was ridiculous.
“Lower your weapons,” Grandfather said as he glared into her eyes. “The Italian cow…”
The moment he said it, three bullets went flying into them. One in the chest, one in the wrist and the other the knee; they all went down like cards. You don’t out gun Mel.
“What the fuck? Where did she pull the gun out from?” Neal whispered. “I swear, she’s a motherfucking ninja.”
“M-E-L-O-D-Y. Me-lo-dy. I will let the second time slide due to your old age. I’ve heard hearing loss is common.” She stepped back, looking to the guards as she took off the silencer on her gun. “Please stop bleeding all over our rug, it’s quite rude.”
My grandfather looked down and smirked. “Shame. It was their first day too, I warned them that you could be as ruthless as your repetition called for, Giovanni.”
“Better…who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” Mel replied, and my blood began to boil.
“You came across the fucking ocean just to test my wife?” I snapped, stepping forward as well.
“Adriana!” I roared, causing the ex-ugly duckling to come in, “Have a doctor see to these idiots, and then have a new rug brought up.”
She nodded, opening the door for the men to crawl out like the pieces of shit they were.
My grandfather simply stepped around them, pulled out a pipe, cleaned the handle of the chair and sat down like he fucking owned it.
“I heard about the Bloody Melody that was now part of my family and I figured a trip to this godforsaken country was worth it, so we could speak face to face,” he said as he blew out smoke.
“Try using Skype next time.” I glared at him.
He glared in return before turning to my parents. “You should have taken my advice and beat the wit out of him as a child.”
“You can’t beat out personality, Shamus,” Evelyn said respectfully. “I kind of enjoy it actually.”
“Of course you do.” He sighed, turning to my father. “Son, do I not get a welcoming?”
“Welcome, Shamus,” was all Sedric said.
“Grandfather…”
“Speak when spoken to, child, or did all those seizures distort your brain as a youth?” he asked, reminding me once again why I hated him.
“They helped me become head of this fucking family, so, with respect, I’m asking you to get out of my chair,” I hissed through my teeth.
“And what a man you are. Allowing your home to burn down, your wife to lose her child, and losing millions in the process, I applaud you. I bow down to your greatness, child.” He snickered and Melody stood forward, but it was my turn to glare at her.
This was not her fight.
“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan,” Mina burst in. “We need to leave for the rally. Senator…” She froze at the sight of the blood on the carpet.
“We were just leaving, Mina. You’re dismissed.” I didn’t even bother to turn towards her.
When the door closed, I stepped forward, leaning across my desk. “My family and I will be leaving. I suggest…”
“Beautiful, I will come along.” Shamus smirked, cutting me off once again. “What is the point of being so done up if no one can see me?” He rose to his feet, blowing the smoke from his pipe in my face.
He walked forward only to stop right next to Mel to present his arm.
“I’d rather hang myself while on fire,” Mel told him, but he took her arm anyway.
“I wasn’t asking, my dear. There is no need to be so hostile, we’re family,” he said as he led her to the door. He, like all Callahan men, had charm, and it disgusted me.
“You called me a cow. Twice,” she said with no emotion.
“I’m sure you’ve been called worse.” He winked and the look on Mel’s face worried me. She didn’t hate him.
Sedric stood in front of me as he tried to figure out the words to say. But, like always, when it came to Shamus Callahan, there were no words. My mother kissed my cheek as I leaned against the desk. One by one, they all left as the clean up crew came in.
“There better not be a fucking spot left behind.” I finished off the rest of my brandy before leaving.
MELODY
“Where is Liam?” I asked, stepping out of the car. I had been waiting for half an hour and that prick still hadn’t come into the car.
The maids, who I didn’t even bother to get to know, stood outside waiting. They weren’t supposed to leave the driveway until we left. None of them looked uncomfortable, but that was years of training at work.
“Ma’am,” one of them said. “He went to change in his room and never came back out.”
“You’re dismissed,” I told them, as I walked in. I had no idea what the hell his problem was, but he needed to put on his big boy pants and deal with it.
The moment Sedric brought up Shamus, Liam went ridged. I knew of Shamus; he had killed, stolen and bribed his way into the history books...but then again, we all had. The things he had done were things that I myself had studied and
copied. He impressed me, and I was not an easy person to impress. Shamus was deadly, cocky, and an asshole. He demanded respect, which he earned, but I would never give him that satisfaction. He was in my house.
The moment I stepped into our room, I followed the music drifting through the air from Liam’s closet. His closet had to be as big as mine, if not bigger; the ass loved his suits.
On the far center wall was a black upright piano.
Walking up behind him, I grabbed his hair and pulled it back, bringing my face to the side of his cheek. “I hate being stood up, Liam.”
“Ask my grandfather to take you,” he snapped like a child.
Letting go of his hair, I sat on his lap. “That was passive-aggressive. What the hell is wrong with you?”
He sighed, pulling me closer to him as he kissed me. I kissed him back before biting his bottom lip.
“You aren’t going to use sex as a way out of this. As much as I enjoyed putting your grandfather in his place, I need to know what level of bitch to be,” I told him truthfully.
“I loathe Shamus with a burning passion,” he whispered as he held me tighter.
“I see that. Why?” There had to be some reason he held such hatred.
I found it sexy. However, he was in pain, and he was growing on me. I wasn’t sure when we had changed into this lovely couple, but with each passing day, he was becoming a bigger part of my soul. Part of me was still worried about it.
“Shamus has always believed in survival of the fittest. My father thought the city was one of the reasons I was so sick. He took us all to Ireland and the very first time I met him, he looked me up and down and said, ‘In the wild, animals eat their young if they’re sick.’ He and my father got in a fight…though it was more like my father yelling and Shamus smoking in his chair. He told my father that if he were too weak to put me down, he would do the honors. That a man in his position couldn’t have a child like me; that he should be happy he was given another son and could raise Declan to replace me if he wanted to.” His grip on my thigh tightened, but I let him squeeze as hard as he needed.
“But you did survive, and you are the fittest,” I whispered, holding onto the side of his face.
He kissed my palm. “Shamus likes things done his way. He wanted the company to go to Neal and my father actually refused. My father has gotten quite good at refusing my grandfather. He was never supposed to marry my mother. She, after all, wasn’t a pure breed. Being half-Irish is as good as being Italian.” He leered at me, leaving me torn between kissing him and breaking his face open.
“My full blood Italian can kick any Irish—”
“Yes, I know, love. You’re a badass.” He grinned as he squeezed my ass.
“Didn’t Evelyn have Neal when she was young?” She had to have been sixteen or seventeen at the time.
“She had us all when she was young. My grandfather swears Sedric got her pregnant on purpose. He knew Shamus wouldn’t approve of his only living son marrying anyone other than his choosing. However, after Evelyn became pregnant, there was nothing he could do,” he explained. “We are good Catholic folk, you know,” he said in his accent.
“Tá tú ar leathcheann,” (You’re an idiot.) I said, as I got off of him.
“You love me, you hate me, make up your damn mind, wife. I’m getting whiplash.” He smirked, rising as well.
“You’re getting a whip? What kind of kinky shit are you into, Callahan?” I asked, causing him to push me up against his mirror.
His expression darkened and his lips hovered over mine. “Let’s find out. God only knows what I have in this closet.”
I pushed up against him. “You mean the cheerleading uniform for the Chicago Bulls you have hidden behind your gray suits? Or the very whorish nun outfit you have in the hidden compartment under your socks?”
His eyes widened and I could only grin.
“Keep your cock on lock, we’re late for the rally,” I said, pushing him away before leaving the closet.
“At least I get to look at your ass,” he yelled behind me and I held my middle finger up.
LIAM
“I know a lot of you don’t know me,” Olivia said to the crowd. “I know a lot of you don’t think you can relate to me, or the life I have been so blessed to live. However, I want to tell you a story. About a young college student, who was fresh faced and naïve to the world around her. Her father, the man who always checked under the bed for monsters, and who read to her in animated voices, wanted to do everything in his power to keep his daughter safe. Sadly, sometimes the world is a dark place. Sometimes, a young college student with everything going for her is given a new title: rape victim. It’s a title I have tried so hard to hide because I didn’t have the voice to stand up. I didn’t have the courage to tell my father until last night. He pulled me into a hug and said, ‘when I become President, there will no longer be a statute of limitations for rape.’”
The crowd cheered and screamed, blinding us with flashes as they ate up her words like candy.
“When people ask why do I think my father is the best man for the job, I think about moments like last night. When he held me and promised to always fight for justice. He will fight for me—he will fight for men and women all across this country. My father is a good man, and with your support, he will be a great president.” Senator Colemen hugged his daughter once more before taking his place behind the podium to give his own scripted political bullshit.
Neal held on tightly to Olivia, which I’m sure would have made a great cover photo for the New York Times.
“She’s good,” I whispered to my wife as we stood like dolls on stage.
“She is. They will love her, and those who don’t will get backlash for not supporting a rape victim,” she replied, waving into the crowd.
That was my wife, always planning and trying to figure out how to get a leg up on all those around her.
I felt like we’d been on display for hours, waving and smiling as Senator Colemen talked about how he was going to save the environment, bring down the unemployment rate, and make sure borders were secure; the same bullshit all presidents say.
By the time we were free to go to the private screening rooms up stairs, I had almost forgotten all about Shamus…until I saw the asshole already eating his lamb, in the head chair of the dinner table. Behind him stood two much stronger looking guards, who eyed my wife with both lust and fear.
A misguided fear.
Taking Mel’s hand, I pulled out her chair for her before taking a seat on the opposite side. The moment I sat down, the rest of the family took their seats as well.
“So, this is your big plan? Have the fool and his family as president?” he asked, but I didn’t answer. Instead I took a sip of my brandy.
“We do not discuss business at the dinner table,” Mel said kindly, throwing me off. I looked into her eyes and for a second I thought maybe the bodyguards were right in fearing her.
This seemed to be our new thing; the ability to look into each other’s eyes and just read them.
“Don’t be sweet, Giovanni. It doesn’t suit you.” He snickered like an old pig before turning to Olivia. “Did some men violate ya’ or was them some lies you told to the public?”
Olivia glared, but nodded. “Yes, sir…”
“Neal, I hope you’ve corrected this situation,” he cut her off to give his attention to his favorite.
“Actually, grandpa, Olivia has been handling things just fine on her own,” he hissed out. But that anger had more to do with Olivia’s rape, and the fact that we couldn’t find Harvey yet, than grandfather’s words.
“Huh.” He frowned, looking over at Coraline. “Nice hair, when did you become a lesbian?”
“Never,” Declan and Coraline said at the same time. They didn’t speak much when Shamus was around.
“How far you all have strayed from tradition,” he said, cutting his lamb.
For a decrepit old man he had a strong grip.
“H
ow long do you plan on staying, Shamus?” Evelyn asked softly as she ate.
“As long as I please,” he snapped, causing my father to grab his knife. However, my mother held his arm. I wished she hadn’t.
“For someone who says he came so far to see me, you and I haven’t spoken much. I don’t care how long you stay, my question is: why are you here?” Mel glared.
Shamus chuckled at her, taking his time to chew. “It’s a shame you aren’t male. I could respect you more.”
“It’s a shame you don’t have manners. Now answer my question, old man, or I will pull it out of you,” was her reply, causing Shamus to just laugh, allowing us to see all the food in his mouth.
“You try so very hard to be something you can never be. A woman will never be a boss. No matter how many people you kill, no matter how much you threaten. You will always be a cunt. All women are cunts, I wish my grandson would have found one with even a drop Irish blood in her veins to make up for it.” I expected Mel to flip out, but instead, she regarded him carefully.
“You’ve lowered your standards. I’ve heard even being half Irish wasn’t good enough for you,” Mel stated, much calmer than I was.
He had come into my home uninvited and insulted us all. He spoke as if we were nothing but gum under his shoe. As if we weren’t even family. Shamus was a pig. Every time he spoke, the pressure from keeping my mouth shut built up behind my eyes.
“I was not unreasonable. After all, if my son had chosen the woman I’d gotten for him, I’m sure he wouldn’t have a dumbass, a mouse, and a cripple as sons. But apparently, my words fall on deaf ears.” The pig snickered.
A dumbass…Neal
A mouse…Declan
A cripple…Me
We all knew our titles, he had made it clear to all of us when we were children, but he always said he’d rather have a dumbass than a mouse or a cripple.
“I would have sooner killed myself than marry Catharine Briar,” my father snapped, and again my mother held him back.
“Maybe you should have and saved me so much trouble!” Shamus yelled. I prayed the man would have a stroke.