A Bloody Kingdom

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A Bloody Kingdom Page 5

by J. J. McAvoy


  “You’re one hell of a screw, Liam Callahan,” she managed to say.

  Grinning, I pulled out of her and laid on my back. “It’s a gift a really.”

  God, I feel so much better.

  “So fucking cocky,” she muttered. Rolling over to me, she rested her head on my chest, our legs intertwined.

  “Give me seven minutes and I can be a lot cockier.”

  She smacked my chest. “We have to be up in two hours.”

  I glanced down at the clock: it was already 5 AM. Sighing, I brushed her hair back gently. “How about we skip mass today?”

  “Your mother will kill you.”

  “You’d protect me.” I smiled and she huffed at that. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Now that I have three children, I’d never make the mistake of getting between a mother and her son.”

  “So I’m on my own?”

  “You’ve always got Jesus…if you go to church, that is.” She yawned.

  Sitting up slowly, I cradled her in my arms and lifted her over to her side of the bed and pulled the blanket over her.

  “Goodnight, wife.”

  “It’s no longer night, so good morning, husband,” she muttered as she drifted off.

  “Must you fight me on everything?” I kissed her forehead, lying down beside her.

  As I was falling asleep I heard her say, “Yes, because fighting is the best foreplay.”

  I could never win against her…but losing came with its own advantages.

  FIVE

  “I think I have a pattern of being nice and lovely and then dark and twisted.”

  ~ Ryan Murphy

  MELODY

  Damn him. It was the only thought that repeated over and over again in my mind as I stared at myself in the mirror. All across my skin were the red marks that had been left from his whip. My chest was covered in so many purple-red bruises it looked like I’d made love to a fucking vampire—and it wasn’t just there: there were bruises on my arms, my neck…fuck.

  “If you don’t pick something to wear we are going to be late for mass.” He had the motherfucking audacity to say that to me, leaning on the doorframe of my closet, smugger than the devil, dressed in a fitted navy suit, his red tie still untied around his neck.

  “Tell me, Liam, what am I supposed to wear when I look like I was—”

  “Fucked until the sun came up?” he interrupted, his eyes roaming over his handiwork proudly.

  “Liam! It’s March! I can’t go into church with a turtleneck to cover this shit up!” I snapped.

  “Don’t cover it up then.”

  Damn him.

  Taking a deep breath, I fought the urge to smack him, instead grabbing a long cream blouse, a scarf, and a blue pleated skirt.

  I could feel his eyes on me as I got dressed and tried my best to ignore him, but because he couldn’t go an hour without trying to tempt me, he came up right behind me and pulled the scarf from around my neck.

  “I said don’t cover it up.”

  “Someone is getting a little bit too comfortable with bossing me around.”

  He didn’t reply, simply kissing the back of my head. His eyes met mine in the mirror as I relaxed against his chest for a second, taking a deep breath before reaching for my heels—

  “MOMMY!!”

  A chill went down my spine as I dropped the heels in my hands and pushed Liam off of me. I ran, my heart pounding in my chest as I ripped open the door to their room.

  “Wyatt?” I called out, only to find him standing in front of Dona. She hid behind him, her brown hair covering her face as Wyatt glared at the maid in front of him.

  “She hurt Dona!” he yelled, never looking away from the woman frozen in sheer terror. She glanced up at me wide-eyed.

  I felt Liam rush past me, moving to Dona and softly brushing her hair back. Her face was puffy and her green eyes were fighting back tears, but the worst of it was the painful red burn at the top of her ear. I stared in shock as she winced in pain. My shock turned to rage.

  “You hurt my daughter?” I glanced back to the woman, who looked no older than myself, her brown hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head.

  “Ma’am, it was a mistake, I was trying to curl her hair and the miss wouldn’t stop—”

  “Liar!” Wyatt snapped angrily. “She keeps getting mad at us and we didn’t do anything. She hurt Dona on purpose!”

  She shook her head repeatedly as I walked over to her. “Ma’am, I swear—”

  Grabbing her by her skinny neck, I threw her up against the wall, her hands clawing at my wrist. I slammed her body into the wall repeatedly with so much force the picture frames fell shattering to the ground. Her head connected each time, leaving a stain of blood on the wallpaper as her eyes rolled back into her skull. “My daughter is crying. Her ear is burned and my son is upset, and you have the nerve to tell me it is a mistake? That it’s their fault?”

  “Ma’am…please…”

  “No one harms my children. NO. FUCKING. ONE! You must have lost your goddamn mind, but don’t worry, I’m about to help you find it…”

  Liam, who now held Dona in his arms, his face void of any emotion, opened the door for me as I threw her ass out.

  “FEDEL!” I yelled, knowing he’d only be around the corner somewhere. Instantly, he appeared, dressed in black, with two other guards behind him. His eyes glanced at the woman sobbing at my feet, then to me.

  “Should I remove her boss?” he asked, already moving to grab her.

  “Ma’am, please! It was an accident. I swear! Ma’am!”

  “Don’t remove her, but make her the example for anyone who harms my children.” My hands shook with rage; I wanted to strangle the life out of her. “NOW! Get her away from me!”

  He nodded to one of the men behind him, and they seized her arms before dragging her kicking and screaming down the hall.

  Breathe.

  Breathe.

  “Fedel get me the first aid kit,” Liam said, his voice still stern and unwavering. He shifted Dona in his arms, moving back into the bedroom with her.

  Wyatt grabbed on to my skirt. Bending down, I picked him up as well, and he wrapped his arms around me.

  “She lied. She was mean.” He frowned and it broke my heart.

  “I know. I believe you, sweetheart. I’m proud of you. Always protect your siblings, okay?” I whispered, brushing his hair down. It was darker than Ethan’s, more black, but in the sun, you could still see shades of brown in it.

  “Yes, Mommy,” he muttered, trying to wiggle out of my arms when he saw Ethan come into the room. Evelyn was beside him dressed in a dark green cocktail dress. She glanced at me and then back to Dona, wide-eyed and confused.

  “What in the heavens happened?”

  “Melina hurt Dona,” Wyatt told her, and if I hadn’t been so upset, I would have laughed. He sounded like the town crier; he would make sure the whole house knew and not stop until everyone was just as angry as he was.

  “Il mio preziosa agnello,” I said to her, moving to sit beside her on the bed, taking her hands and kissing them.

  “Mommy.” She pouted and I lifted her onto my lap, resting her head on my chest. “I miss old lady Hildy.”

  “So do I,” I whispered as Liam took the first aid kit from Fedel. Old Lady Hildy had been the maid in charge of taking care of Ethan, Wyatt, and Dona ever since they were born. Evelyn was always there to help but neither Liam or I wanted her to stress over them. I rarely—well, never—cared for anyone outside the family, but I truly did miss her after she’d passed away a few months before, though Dona and Wyatt had taken it the hardest.

  “Ouch!” Dona cried, squeezing on to me.

  “Sorry princess, but I have to.” Liam frowned, rubbing the cream on her ear as I held her hair back. Afterward, he took a small piece of gauze and wrapped it around her ear the best he could. “There, done.”

  “No touching.” I held her hand back down. “Now, let’s fix this hair of
yours.”

  “No curls!” she demanded, on the verge of tears again. Liam’s fist clenched, his jaw tight at the sight of her.

  “No curls, I promise. Come on, Nana will give you the most beautiful Celtic braid.” Evelyn outstretched her hand. Jumping down, she grabbed her arm and walked over to the dresser. With Ethan and Wyatt beside her, they were all giggling in seconds.

  “Breathe. She’s fine,” I whispered to Liam, placing my hand on his chest.

  “I never want to see that woman in my house Mel. I don’t care how it happens. I want her gone.”

  “Then she’s gone.”

  Nodding, he walked over Dona, standing right behind our sons, all of their attention focused on their princess. I watched them for a second as they all tried to make her laugh before stepping outside the room, closing the large wooden door behind me. Fedel stood waiting.

  “She’s locked up for now, boss, unless you wish her to be punished right away?”

  “She can wait until after mass. The cars?”

  “They are all out front. The rest of the kids are eating breakfast.”

  Before I could speak, I heard laughter come from behind the door. Crossing my arms, I felt relieved to know she was fine, but I couldn’t shake my anxiety.

  “Do you ever remember hearing that when I was young?” I nodded to the door behind me.

  “Boss?”

  “The laughter,” I replied. “Do you ever remember innocent laughter in my house when I was young?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I ever heard it.”

  “Laughter is a good thing, isn’t it? My daughter is more loved than I ever was and that is a good thing…but she is soft, Fedel. It bothers me because in the back of my mind I know she cannot remain innocent for the rest of her life. She cannot stand behind her father and brothers forever. I don’t want her to be the damsel in distress. She cuts her hand or burns herself and the world stops in this house. It can’t always be so, but I do not know how to make her a fighter without breaking her first.”

  “She’s still young boss.”

  “Exactly…everything that happens now molds her.” Pinching the bridge of my nose—a habit I’d picked up from Liam—I tried to get the image of me as a child, begging for my father to give me a break or crying for help and never receiving it, out of my mind. My father had put me through hell and I’d hated him for a long time for it, but now as an adult and parent, I understood why more clearly than ever before. If I didn’t take care of me, no else would. How much did it hurt him to mold me into a fighter?

  “Boss?”

  “She’s going to hate me.” I inhaled, standing a little bit straighter. “But I can’t…I won’t let her be weak.”

  “She will grow to thank you for it, just as you have with Orlando.”

  She wasn’t the only person I was worried about. Liam was going to be—

  The door behind me swung open and Dona ran to me, turning so I could see the intricate knot in her hair. “Mommy! Mommy, look what Nana did!”

  “Well isn’t Nana talented. Your hair is beautiful sweetheart, but come on, we have to get going. Is everyone ready?”

  “Yeah Mom, but you don’t have shoes.” Ethan pointed to my feet.

  I glanced down, staring at my painted toes.

  “Mommy came rushing to see what happened and forgot to finish getting dressed.” Liam picked Dona up, leaning over to kiss the side of my head. “Let’s go get food and let her finish.”

  “I want waffles!” Wyatt grinned, already running down the hall.

  “Uncle Neal will eat them all again!” Ethan panicked, running after him.

  “Wait for me!” Dona yelled, wiggling out of Liam’s arms and running as well.

  “What is this obsession they have with waffles? Even when you were pregnant you were inhaling them by the truckload.” Liam tried not to smile but I could see the corner of his lips turning up.

  “You’re one to talk. I ate so much Jell-O while pregnant with you, your father nearly bought stock in the company.” Evelyn smiled; it didn’t matter the conversation, she could always manage to bring Sedric into the conversation. She still wore her ring, and I didn’t think she would ever get rid of it; she made all of us feel as though he had never left. I was grateful because it kept Liam grounded, but most importantly, confident. I knew he had dinner with her every Sunday night just so he could hear her thoughts. Evelyn meant more to him now than ever before and I thought that was what gave her strength to smile even though I knew she was broken on the inside. No amount of grandchildren or attention from her family could ever fix that.

  “Mel? Are you all right dear?” She put her hand on my shoulder. “I will personally look into finding a new nanny for the kids.”

  “Thank you, Evelyn, excuse me,” I replied. Liam gave me a glance, but I nodded for him to follow our kids then walked back into our bedroom.

  In my closet, I saw my forgotten pair of tan Gucci heels on the ground. Grabbing them, I sat down on the couch and leaned against the pillows.

  I loved my family. Liam. My children. Evelyn. Everyone. But Sundays were still the hardest for me, the bubble of cheerfulness that made a part of me want to roll my goddamn eyes. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t adapt? Even after all these years, it was like I was staring at the Brady Bunch; it was too much sugar and sweetness. It was making me sick.

  “Melody, it’s me.” Mina knocked on the closet door.

  “Come in,” I said, buckling the straps on my shoes.

  “We have a small problem.” She waltzed in dressed in a butterfly print A-Line sleeveless white dress.

  “Define small.” I stood, reaching for my jewelry.

  She held out her phone for me and there was a photo of Liam and me on the penthouse roof of the Glass Emperor Hotel, making out, the picture clearly showing him gripping my breast and ass…tightly. The caption read, “The Governor: play before work.”

  “They could have done a much better job with the title,” I said, clasping my earrings on. “Why is this a problem? Are they going to call me a whore for kissing my husband?”

  “I told you already, image is important, Melody. We are a few months away from announcing your bid for the presidency; we cannot let images become topics of debate. You know reporters will be at the church and they will hurl questions at you.”

  “Disrespectful ingrates,” I muttered. “But this is hardly a problem. If anyone attacks me for it, I’ll just say I don’t see any men having to comment on their sex life.”

  “Normally that would work, but last night there was a shooting in Bella Vista. A black boy was shot by gang members when he used his body as a shield to protect his two little sisters. This morning the cops still have no leads. They are going to come at you for not only having a dinner party for the police but having time to have “playtime” with your husband while violence is creeping back up again.”

  “I cleaned up the Southbend and now fucking Bella Vista wants to erupt,” I muttered to myself. “Did you talk to Fedel?”

  “I sent him the information, but I don’t cross that line Melody. My job is to keep you out of the mud, not get into it.”

  I snickered at that. “Mina, I was born in the mud, raised in the mud, and married into the mud. All. I. Know. Is. The. Mud. You can dress me up like a saint, but in the end, I’m just a sinner. I thought you knew that.”

  “I thought you were, at least, faking not to be,” she challenged.

  “I heard Bella Vista has gotten a new gang. I wasn’t sure, but apparently it’s true. As governor I think I should welcome them, don’t you?”

  “Melody…”

  Ignoring her, I patted her shoulder on my way out. I was excited…there was nothing like a good old-fashioned Chicago welcome to get the taste of sugar out my mouth.

  LIAM

  Someone one was going to die or was already dying; I could tell the moment we got to the church. She was eerily quiet and smiled a little too much at the cameras,
but the most frightening was the fact that she sang. My wife sang in church. The last time she’d sung in church was when we’d first gotten married and she’d ended up beating the shit out of my ex, Natasha, in the ladies room.

  The icing on the cake was when we went to the soup kitchen, as we always did after church. We had built the Orlando-Sedric, known simply as the OS Center, only a block down the road from the church in order to provide for the community. It was also a way for the Irish and Italians to peacefully get together, although the center was open to everyone. Melody personally carried out trays of water while Dona shadowed her and handed everyone napkins. The smile plastered on her face didn’t look as fake as usual, but it wasn’t real either. She was on autopilot so again. Either someone was dead, or someone was dying.

  “Chocolate.” A small blonde-haired girl stared, mesmerized by the cakes in front of her, and before I could reach for it, her eyes shifted to another one. “Or maybe lemon? No, cream bundt…there are so many!”

  “You’re really picky.” Ethan made a face at her beside me.

  She glanced up, finally noticing us behind the counter. When her blue eyes fell on Ethan, she stuck her tongue out. “Maybe you’re not picky enough, shorty.”

  I tried my best not to laugh, biting inside my cheek when I saw the look on Ethan’s face. He apparently had gotten used to everyone being respectful toward him.

  “I’m not short!” he snapped at her.

  “To me you are.” She held her head high. “So I’d rather be picky than a shorty.”

  Well, son? What’s your comeback? I waited, glancing between them. Ethan just stood there, not sure what to say, and so again she stuck her tongue out at him and focused on me smiling from ear to ear.

  “Can I get cream bundt?”

  “All that cream is going to make you fat,” Ethan shouted so loudly even Coraline, who stood at the far end of the table, turned her head toward him.

  “So what?” she said to him, her hand outstretched for the cake.

  “Huh?” he questioned, confused.

 

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