by J. J. McAvoy
“Yes, sir.”
“Give me a reason not to.”
“I was so drunk I don’t remember a thing,” he stated. “And I’m a damn good pilot.”
Monte stepped outside the sorry excuse for a house, holding the door for me to enter. “So you say, but this isn’t over.”
Walking forward, I couldn’t help but notice that the Briars had downscaled quite drastically. It had taken us a week to find them because we had thought a family as uptight and aristocratic as the Briars could not bear to spend time in the countryside. And yet, here they were, in a tiny one bedroom, rat infested cabin with a hole in the roof and floor. It was as if they were hiding from Hitler. Gone were the opulent foyers and gilded frames. Now they had nothing but the clothes on their backs and I needed to know why.
They sat quietly in the living room, facing the door as I walked into the kitchen. Sighing, I grabbed the last beer in the fridge and took a seat before the very stupid family who had tried to run from me.
“Natasha is dead, Mr. Briar,” I told him, popping the top of my beer with the edge of his table.
The aging man frowned and simply nodded. “Did you come all this way to tell me that, Liam? A letter would have sufficed.”
Before I could speak, Fedel’s pistol connected with his jaw, unleashing a small river of blood and a tooth from his lips. I felt his pain. Mel’s punch hurt like a bitch and it would look worse in the morning.
“It’s Mr. Callahan to you,” Fedel sneered, pulling his head back up.
Whoever said good help was hard to find obviously wasn’t looking in the right places.
“Let me rephrase my question: why is your daughter dead?” Not that the bitch wasn’t playing with her luck anyway.
“You killed her.” Mr. Briar spit out another tooth and blood at my shoes.
“Sorry, wrong answer.” I nodded at Fedel, who took his cue to bash Brair’s face in with his fist.
“Let’s try this again. Why is your daughter dead?”
“I don’t know! If you didn’t kill her, I don’t know! Just leave us be,” he begged. Grown men shouldn’t beg. Not even for death.
“Fedel.”
Fedel drew his gun and fired into the man’s stomach. I sat back and sipped my drink impassively; he didn’t know anything, and as my wife would say, he was wasting words. His wife and second daughter all stood by the stairs watching in horror as he fell back in to the chair.
“DORAN!”
“DAD!”
They screamed. I’m not sure why though. “He will bleed out and die right here if I don’t get answers, ladies.”
“You MONSTER!” his wife yelled.
“If I got a dollar for every time someone called me a monster, I could end world hunger.”
“Just leave us alone! Whatever you want, take it, just leave us the hell alone!” She sobbed, falling to her knees near her husband’s body. His blood soaked her jeans and jacket, while her daughter seemed too shocked to even move, let alone speak. She just sat there, staring at the pool of blood as it crept closer to her.
Rising, I pulled her to her feet by her hair before turning to her mother and father; she was shaking against Jinx’s knife so badly, it was cutting into her neck.
“I want answers!” I declared stoically in her face as her daughter struggled against me. “I swear to you, you will not only have to bury your husband, but your remaining children as well, so find your fucking voice!”
I released her daughter, and she fell to the ground, sobbing as she went. Stepping over her, I glared into the withered old eyes of Natasha’s mother as tears ran down her cheeks.
“He…he said… he said he would kill us all,” she uttered to me.
Putting Jinx’s knife away, I wiped her tears. “He won’t hurt you like I will if I don’t find out what I need to know.”
“It’s all your father’s fault!” She declared wide-eyed. “He was supposed to marry me. Shamus made a deal with Ivan. Everyone made a deal with Ivan DeRosa because that’s what you were supposed to do!”
She began to shake, dropping her head as she wrapped her arms around herself. Fuck, I was losing her.
“Go on,” I spoke, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to meet my gaze. She looked right through me. “What do you mean, that’s what you were supposed to do?”
“To keep order. The drug business is a big one. No one man can control it all. There has to be a balance; you can only be so powerful. There is only so much crime the world will ignore before they call for justice. Ivan is the scale. He has the power and allows you to have pieces of that within reason. Shamus was too powerful, too cocky, and the feds caught him. But Ivan made it go away, he can make anything go away, all Shamus had to do was get Sedric to marry me.” She whispered to herself as she rocked back and forth.
This made no sense!
“Why? Why you?”
“Because my family knew the game but weren’t players. We couldn’t make him any more powerful than he already was. But he married Evelyn. Ivan didn’t like that but Evelyn’s family wasn’t anything. He let it go because there was balance. But you Callahans always marry the wrong people!” she yelled, spitting in my face as she did.
Stepping back, I wiped the side of my cheek and allowed myself a moment to think. This was the craziest shit I had ever heard. Both Jinx and Fedel stared at me waiting; they were not really fazed at all by her words. But they should have been. Everything we had been fighting to figure out was because of this.
“Ivan doesn’t run a mafia monopoly!” I couldn’t help but laugh. Not only was this stupid as fuck, but just unrealistic!
“And not only did you stupidly marry his granddaughter, but you married the head of the Italian mob! Every single cop, lawyer, and judge you pay off around the world, he gets a cut. If you and your stupid wife control everything, you will be placed on everyone’s shit list! It’s a chain reaction…”
“Jinx. Fedel. Clean up this shit, I’m heading back to my wife. This was a waste of my time.” Grabbing my beer, I stepped out just as she yelled.
“Ivan’s the game maker, not you!” she said. “You’re a player, find a way to meet him halfway.”
Turning, I raised my bottle to her. “I’m Liam Fucking Callahan! I don’t meet anyone halfway. They bend my way, Mrs. Briar.”
Monte stood outside, holding open the door to the Range. Sitting back in my seat, I finished my drink.
“Well, this was anticlimactic,” I whispered, staring at the fading brick house among the green hills. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it. My “mistress” was a bitch, my wife was driving me insane, and all I really wanted was an aspirin.
NINETEEN
“Kings kill for empires, madmen for applause.”
—John Dryden
MELODY
I knew it was him, and he knew I was awake. How could anyone sleep with him slamming the drawers of our dresser so loudly? I wanted to give him a baby update and ask him what had happened to trigger his anger, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. He was just pissing me off!
SLAM!
“We’ve been here for a week,” I said. “There is nothing in the damn dresser! So either chop it up for firewood or leave it alone.”
“Of course, your highness! God forbid I make you feel uncomfortable.” He slammed the dresser so hard the books on top of it fell over.
Sighing, I bit my tongue, trying my best not to explode again.
SLAM!
“URGH!” I screamed, grabbing the pillow behind my head to throw at his face. He caught it with ease then dropped it as I rose from our bed. But he pretended that he didn’t even notice me.
“You men and your stupid fucking double standards. How many maids have you screwed, Liam? How many of them still work in our house? I am not yours—”
“That’s where you’re wrong!” he barked, finally acknowledging me. “You are mine! You are so hell bent on reminding me that you belong to no one but yourself. But that’s
bullshit. It’s my last name attached to yours. You belong to me! And I belong to you, and the sooner you get that through your thick skull, the less grey hairs I will have!”
“I have a thick skull? You’re the one—” I stopped, quickly grabbing onto my stomach as the movement became worse.
“Love?” Liam rushed, grabbing hold of me.
“Oh now it’s ‘love’?” I hissed, pushing him away as I wobbled over to the bed. “Damn it, kid, you can’t be on his side already.”
“Mel,” he called, pulling me closer to him on the bed. “What is it?”
Sighing, I laid back holding my stomach. “The kid moved right after you left. It didn’t hurt then, but it does now.”
Lying next to me, he rubbed my stomach slowly. “Are you drinking the tea?”
“Ugh, I’m so tired of drinking that crap. But if it will help, then I will drink some in the morning.” I was not a tea person, but the last thing I needed was more pain.
“When we get back to the States, we’ll try something else,” he replied, kissing my shoulder.
“I’m still pissed at you,” I said softly, leaning into him.
“But I can’t be pissed at you because you’re carrying my child, talk about double standard,” he replied and I was just going to have to let that slide.
“Liam, I’m not ashamed of my past. Long before you came along, I had sex with…”
Breaking away from me, he rolled onto his back. “Ahh, please don’t share! I get it. I don’t like it, but please don’t share.”
Rolling over, I watched his face clench into a grimace as though he had smelled something ghastly.
“Men will never change.” I laughed, lying back down as music began to flow through the windows. It was loud, like a thousand drunken Irishmen trying to sing to the moon.
“Is that the festival?”
Tilting his head toward the window, Liam silently listened for a moment before sitting up.
“I forgot it was Féile Na Beatha.”
“The Festival of life?” I translated quickly.
Smirking, he nodded. “It originated as a festival for the Gods and Goddesses to mark the change from summer to fall. Praising them with songs while wine is shared, all in the hope that they would harvest enough for the winter. Now it’s just an excuse to sing obnoxiously loud while drunk in the streets.”
“Celtic Gods and Goddesses?” I was trying my best not laugh, however I couldn’t help it. Pulling me into his arms, we wrestled on top of the sheets for only a second before he pinned me down.
“Are you laughing at the ancient Gods of my kinsmen?” he smiled above me, only inches from my face.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded, seeing as this is probably the first conversation about them in generations. Your ancient Gods suck.” I smiled as he shook his head at me.
“Just because they don’t get movie deals doesn’t mean they suck.”
“That’s exactly what it means. We have Jupiter, Apollo, Mars. Greece has Hercules and the Olympians. Shit, most Germanic regions have Thor and the Norse deities, and then there’s the Irish. Explains why you all jumped to Christianity so quickly.”
“Hercules was a hero, not a god.” He frowned, releasing my arms as he kissed down my neck.
“Now you have me intrigued with this ‘Féile na Beatha.’” I moaned, trying my best not to give in to him, but damn, he knew where to kiss. “We should go and witness your people in all their glory.”
Grabbing my breasts, he stopped and looked me in the eye. “Later.”
I knew that look.
“Liam, you better not…”
Rip.
I glared down at my now exposed bra before meeting his gaze.
“You dick.”
Smirking, he unbuckled his belt slowly. “As you wish, love.”
“Oh no you don’t.” I laughed, pushing him onto his back before straddling him, “You’ve pissed me off today.”
“Let me make it up to you then,” he said. Flipping me over before I could even blink, his hands were already pulling my jeans off with ease.
Using his teeth, he pulled at my underwear slowly until they were around my ankles then began kissing his way up.
“Liam…” I bit back a moan when his finger found itself inside me.
“Yes, love?” he said innocently, only stopping his lips to watch me while I moaned under him.
He moved in and out of me slowly…painfully slow, snickering as I rocked against his fingers and tried to force him to move faster.
“Liam…” He kissed me hard, nibbling on my lips while fucking me with his fingers.
“You pissed me off as well. But you’re making up for it.” He stopped momentarily. “I like seeing you squirm under me.”
“Hmmmm…” I moaned again as his fingers went faster, causing me to clench around them.
“All of this because of three fingers, baby?” He laughed, knowing exactly what he was doing. “I wonder how loudly my tongue will make you scream.”
“Liam, just…” He didn’t give me the chance to speak. Pulling his fingers from me, he spread my legs wide before attacking my pussy.
“Oh my God!” I moaned, as I wrapped my legs around his head and reached down to grab hold of his hair.
His tongue…Jesus fucking Christ his tongue. Holding on to my waist, his tongue went deeper inside of me, shaking me to my core as I thrust against his mouth. I couldn’t control myself. I wanted to ride his tongue. I wanted more of him.
“Liam…Fuck…” I screamed out as I came. I held onto him for a moment, trying to breathe before collapsing next to him.
I heard him suck a breath of much needed air into his lungs before crawling up the rest of my body, leaving short, quick, kisses on my skin.
“You definitely made up for it,” I managed to whisper, playing with his soft hair.
He pulled me into his arms before lying back down.
He didn’t say anything; he didn’t even look at me. Instead, he simply stared at the ceiling, playing with my fingers. The look in his eyes bothered me. Truthfully, whatever was preoccupying his mind, taking his attention away from us, was annoying me greatly.
“Please tell me you’re not thinking about Jinx,” I hissed, resting my head on his chest.
Finally looking at me, he chuckled, brushing my hair back behind my ear.
“Love…”
“Liam, I was with others before you. I can’t take it back. I don’t want to take it back, nor should I have to. But there is a distinct difference between you and all others,” I declared, taking his hands into mine.
I stared at our wedding rings. It was so odd to me. Here I was, married, pregnant, in love. Where had the old Mel gone? I was barely able to tell my own father that I loved him when he was alive. Oftentimes, I wasn’t even sure if it was love or just respect. And yet, with him… He made me feel soft. He made it okay for me to be soft.
“And that difference is?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Groaning, I leaned up just to bite his nipple.
“Fuck, Mel.”
“You know what it is, ass. I didn’t love them. I really didn’t care about them. They were just men. I love you. I care about you, and you’re my husband. None of them mattered.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, right?” He laughed. I loved the way he laughed. It was like a chilling wind that always cut right through me.
Trying my best not to smile, I headed towards my clothes.
“Where the hell are you going? We’re not done having sex yet!” he yelled behind me.
“You’re the one who took a break. Now, I want to see this Féile Na Beatha.”
He frowned, his eyes roaming over my skin. “This isn’t over.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I winked, grabbing a dress before heading to the bathroom.
“Mel,” he whispered, so softly I almost missed it.
“Yes?”
“I love you. I care about you, and you are my
wife.”
I stood there a moment, just staring at him and him at me.
Who were we?
How did we get here?
When did we become this…in love?
And why wasn’t I more bothered by it?
It was so odd being so open with someone. Trusting someone completely.
“Good,” was all I could manage to say before I locked myself in the bathroom and leaned against the door.
LIAM
Navigating through a sea of drunken Irishmen and women was a skill my wife did not possess. The moment we had made it into the rundown brick town that was nicknamed Killeshin, she was forced to bury her nose into my shirt to keep from getting sick. There was enough alcohol in the air to make an elephant drunk, and if that didn’t bother you, there was always the scent of roasted lamb mixed with the stench of human sweat.
However, you didn’t come here for the food, or even the alcohol. You came for the music; which echoed off every stone, shutter, and living thing.
“We can go back,” I uttered, pulling her into my arms as the herd swallowed us whole.
“I’m fine, I just need a second to adjust,” she mumbled, taking another deep breath in my shirt.
The way she held onto me made her look sweet and innocent, like a gentle cub. It was scary how well she could hide who she really was.
“Liam?”
“Yes.”
“What are your parents doing?” she asked, stopping to stare at my mother and father who stood only a few paces ahead of us, closer to the Celtic band.
Neither of them seemed to notice the idiots around them. They were too busy making love with their eyes. Slowly my father fell to one knee, pulling out a small red box to present to her.
“He’s asking for her hand in marriage again,” Coraline said behind us as she walked up hand in hand with Declan. She grinned so wide her face looked as though it was going to break in half.
“Uncle, the smooth criminal,” Declan winked, wrapping his arms around Coraline.
“He proposed the first time here, right?” asked Coraline.
Why, I’m not sure, for she had to know the answer already.
“Yep, I do believe mom was so pregnant she couldn’t even see her toes let alone the ring he had bought her.”