by J. J. McAvoy
Stepping out into the cold, I saw Fedel made a move to the car, but I shook my head, walking toward Flannery. He said nothing, just stuck his large scarred hands into the pockets of his trousers and put his head down, obviously thinking far too hard.
“Hi, Mr. Callahan.” Two young girls, maybe three or four years older than Dona, waved to me once we got closer to the neighborhood.
“Ladies.” I nodded to them, moving to give them space on the sidewalk. They giggled, whispering to each other as they walked by hand in hand.
“Mr. Callahan!” A set of teenagers, this time, four boys, rushed across the street. Fedel tensed, but there was nothing to worry about.
“My pops said if I wanted a job to ask you,” the first said, his front tooth chipped.
“As if, Bertie. If anybody workin’ for the Callahans it be me.” The second—and shortest—of the four puffed out his chest. They all just laughed at him.
“In your dreams, Eirnin!”
“Gentlemen,” I said, and they all shut up, looking back at me as if they had forgotten I was there for a second. “If you want to work with my family then you got to be smart…ask me again in ten years.”
Walking around them, we continued on. The two blocks felt like two miles because of all the people who stopped me just to say hello. The East Side had always been home to the Irish, and if they were Irish, they knew who I was, and if they knew who I was, they had to show respect. It was basically an unspoken commandment.
“This is it,” Flannery said when we stopped at a rundown townhouse with what had once been a green door; most of the paint was now chipped away and instead it looked brown. Flannery glanced back at me, motionless.
“Are you expecting me to fucking knock?”
Skipping the stairs two at a time, he walked up to the door and pounded on it.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!”
A second later the door swung open and a short pale woman with her black hair in a loose ponytail and dirt all over stepped forward.
“Flannery? What are you—” Her green eyes slowly panned over to me.
Smiling at her, I took the toothpick out of my mouth and stepped up. “Ms. Feidhelm, are your boys in?”
Quickly she looked to Flannery, and whatever look he had on his face made her eyes widen. I didn’t even think it was possible but it looked like she got paler.
“Ms. Feidhelm,” I called out to her, drawing her attention back to me. “Your boys?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Her voice shook as she stepped back, opening the door to her house. “They’re just upstairs.”
“You mind calling them down? I’d like to speak to them.” I dusted the bottom of my feet on the mat before entering her home. Flannery followed behind me along with Fedel, who silently stood closest to the door.
“Bryan. Bryan! Robert! Get down here now!”
I glanced up at the floorboards, and dust fell from them as they scurried about.
“Would you like something to drink, Mr. Callahan?” she offered, already walking to the kitchen.
“Thank you, ma'am, but I’m fine. No need to trouble yourself,” I said.
She nodded, moving back to the bottom of the stairs, her hands shaking. She looked to me one more time before yelling, “Bryan! Robert! You got two seconds—”
“Coming!” they yelled, rushing down the stairs dressed in faded jeans and dark blue sweaters with small balls of fuzz on them. The minute they saw me, they stopped halfway down the stairs. They were twins, thirteen years old, with bright red hair.
“Mr. Callahan wanted to talk to you two,” their mother said to them.
“I’m guessing by the expressions on your faces you know who I am,” I said to them when they finally came down and stood beside their mother.
“Yes sir,” they said together; it was creepy as fuck.
“So can you explain to me why you thought it was a good idea to steal from me?” I asked, and the moment I did, their mother looked between them, fear now coating all of her body as she shook.
“Whatever they took, Mr. Callahan, I’ll repay! I swear to God I will repay it.” She sobbed.
“I’m sure you’d try to…but that doesn’t matter if they don’t understand the gravity of their choice. Besides, unless they have already spent my ten grand, I’m not sure why you would need to pay me back. You haven’t spent my money, have you?”
They swallowed one of them stepping forward. “We did.”
He was lying. I could tell he was lying from how shocked his brother looked to see him speak up.
“Bryan!” his mother yelled, sobbing harder as she smacked him on the shoulders. “What have you two done?! How can you be so dumb?!”
“Fedel, help Ms. Feidhelm into the kitchen.” She immediately dropped to her knees in front of me, grabbing my trousers.
“Please. Please don’t hurt them! They’re kids. Stupid fucking kids! I’ll punish them I swear. And we will repay you with interest! Mr. Callahan—”
I nodded to Fedel, and he took her away as she struggled in his arms, still begging and pleading as she disappeared around the corner of the hallway.
“You know it’s a sin to make your mother cry right?” Neither spoke. I stepped forward, and they both stepped back. “Lying to me is an even worse sin. You did not spend my money because I would know if a bunch of gingers were blowing ten grand on the East Side.”
“We didn’t do it on the East Side,” Bryan, apparently the smart mouth of the two argued. He was scared shitless but he couldn’t stop himself.
Grabbing him by the neck, I lifted him off his feet. “Little boy, you are working on my last goddamn nerve.”
“We didn’t spend it!” the other one, Robert, yelled as I let go of his brother.
“Shut up, Rob!”
“This was a dumb idea from the start!” he yelled back, then faced me. “We didn’t spend it. It’s all upstairs.”
“How did you know where and how to steal from me?”
“Uncle Flannery. We followed him.”
I glanced back to Flannery and the little bitch couldn’t look me in the eye.
“It isn’t his fault. We could have taken more, but didn’t want him to get in trouble. We just need to get out of the East Side before it’s too late.”
“Too late?”
Bryan finally spoke up again, rubbing his neck. “Our dad…our dad…he’s a fucktard! He hits Ma and he drinks all the money away or worse, makes bad bets. Some sharks came here sayin’ we gotta pay. Ma works three jobs already! How were we going to get ten grand? You don’t get it! You got more money than God! What’s a few thousand to you!”
“Whether it is ten cents, ten dollars, ten thousand dollars, or ten fucking million, it matters to me because it is MINE. It’s my hustle. My sweat. My blood. You think you’re the only kids on the East Side with a fucked up father? Why aren’t they stealing from me?”
“Because they don’t have the balls!” Bryan yelled.
Reaching over to the stairs, I pulled one of the legs off the rail, breaking the wood clean off.
“What the fuck man—”
“This is what your balls have gotten you,” I snapped, using it as a bat when I turned back to hit Flannery right across the jaw. He fell to the ground and yet I didn’t stop even as they screamed. Smashing the wooden post over his face and arms, blood sprayed up into my face each time it connected until the damn thing broke, splinters flying off and falling all over him. The end of the post was covered in his blood as I pointed it back at them, both of them standing in horror.
“Get my money or you’ll end up like Uncle Flannery.” They didn’t move. “NOW!”
They ran, tripping over themselves as they went back up the stairs. I watched them go before bending down next to Flannery, his face beaten so badly that if hadn’t been for his loud gasps for air, I would have thought he was dead.
“You were tailed by two kids. Those two kids stole from me. You tried to keep it quiet to protect them. If I hadn�
��t found out, you would have covered it up. Those were your mistakes, Flannery. The only people you protect are me and my family. In return we protect you and yours, That is the deal. That is how we all live in fucking peace. That is how I don’t BEAT your no good fucking ass with a goddamn stairwell post!”
I heard them rush back down and they handed me a duffle bag.
“Fedel.”
In a flash he was back, their mother running toward them only to stop when she saw Flannery on her floor.
“Thanks for inviting us in, ma’am. You should warn your sons. Back in the old days, they used to cut off the hands of thieves.” Fedel held the door open and my car was already waiting for me.
Without another word, I got into the back, pulling off my bloodstained tie and suit jacket.
“Find the sharks, pay off their debt.” I sighed, leaning back into the leather of the seat. “Then find their father and let him know he owes me ten grand. If he hurts his wife or sons again it will be an extra ten for each of them…and make sure he gets the message clearly.”
“Of course, sir.”
Before I could get comfortable, my phone rang.
“Callahan,” I answered, not recognizing the number on the caller ID.
“Mr. Callahan. This is Principal Lounsbrough, at—”
“What’s going on? Are my kids all right?” I interrupted, sitting up and tapping on my driver’s shoulder.
“There was a shooting.”
NINE
“Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
LIAM
By the time we got to the school, it was absolute chaos. Ambulances, police, reporters, sobbing parents swarmed around the gates of the Pennington Academy. The car didn’t even get a chance to stop before I rushed out the door. Pushing my way past the other parents around me, I made my way up to the yellow police tape where three officers were standing guard.
“Oh my God!” A middle-aged woman screamed no more than a foot from my ears. Following her eyes, I watched as tiny body after tiny body was hastily pushed into ambulances, blood coating their small jackets, their hands…but that sight was better than the ones who were covered up.
Nine.
Nine dead.
Looking away, I moved up to the gates toward a fresh-faced officer who stood head up, chin out, solemn, and serious. The moment his brown eyes met mine, he put his hands out as if he could really stop me with only a pair of hands. “Sir, you need to stand back until—”
“Move.” My voice was low but hard, ready to add to the death count if need be. Every second I was out there was a second I was away from my children. My heart pounded painfully against my chest just at the thought of it.
“Sir, until—”
“Let him through.” It was none other than Chief Defective Beau Brooks, aka Melody’s favorite police dog.
“But sir?” The baby officer faced him, forcing a glare from the dog. No other words were needed for him to step aside.
Waiting for no one, I moved through the side door with Brooks two steps behind me. The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the hall lined with deep blue short lockers was the lunchboxes, dozens of them all across the tile floor. Sandwiches all smashed from tiny footprints, a half-eaten apple tucked into the corner… All the doors to the classrooms were closed, and the glass panels that allowed you to look in were covered with some sort of gray sheet.
“Mr. Callahan?”
“Where are my kids?” I asked him, unable to rip my eyes away.
“The principal separated them from the rest of the kids when they were brought back in. They are waiting in the office with guards and two of my officers. They were in the yard when the shots started. I’m sure they watched a few of their friends go down. We haven’t caught the sniper yet.” He talked as we walked up the stairs; I would have run but I needed a second to compose myself before I saw them. The rage flooding my veins made my hands twitch. Wherever my kids were was off limits. Whoever had done this I wouldn’t just kill, I’d fucking skin them alive. “This is it.”
I stared at the door, taking a deep breath before he opened it for me.
“Daddy!” A ball of black hair brushed my legs, wrapping her hands around my ankles.
“Dona!” I said with the same excitement, reaching down to pick her up and throwing her into the air before hugging her to my chest. Like a monkey, she wrapped her arms and legs around me, burying her face into my neck as I brushed the back of her hair. She sniffled and I swallowed, trying to ignore the warm tears dripping onto me. “It’s okay princess.”
Wyatt and Ethan stood on opposite sides of the office, Wyatt by the window and Ethan by the bookshelf, neither of them even looking at each other. The one thing about Wyatt was that he clearly wore his anger on his face. He was so angry his tiny hand was balled into a fist and his face was red. Ethan, on the other hand, ignored him and came up to me.
“Hi, Dad.” He gave me a small smile. Up close, I noticed the cut above his eyebrow and the scratches on his hands.
Petting the top of his head, I put Dona back down and moved over to face Wyatt. He wiped his face quickly when I kneeled in front of him. His upper lip was cut, dry blood now staining his face.
“H…hi D…Dad.” He hiccupped, taking a deep breath.
“Hi Wyatt,” I said in return, looking him over to see if he was hurt anywhere. I couldn’t see anything. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head, trying to force a smile.
“So why does your face look like that?”
“Because he’s a baby,” Ethan snapped behind me.
“Am not! Shut up!” he yelled back over my shoulder.
“Hey!” I hollered at both of them. “Ethan, I was speaking to your brother, not you. Go sit down.”
He crossed his arms, moving to sit on the principal’s couch as I focused my attention back to Wyatt. Placing my hands on the sides of his head, I turned him toward me and stared into his big brown eyes that had flecks of green within them. “Wyatt. Tell me what happened.”
He swallowed, taking a quick deep breath. “We were in the yard.”
“We?”
“Me and Abby,” he shouted, his hands moving as he spoke…just like his mother. “Bang, bang. The bullets hit everything. I saw Ethan get Dona and I tried to get Abby, but then Ethan came and pulled me toward the doors. Abby, she broke her foot last month and can’t run and I tried to take her with me but Ethan came too fast. He wouldn’t let me go. I told him we had to help her. But he wouldn’t listen! She was crying and crying. I tried to go back but Ethan wouldn’t let go, he hit me and pushed me behind the tables. He wouldn’t let go…I tried to fight. Then…then…I…the bullet hit…she was looking at me. She…died, right?” He started to shake as tears fell from his eyes again. “She died. I could have saved her. But Ethan stopped me.”
I stared at him. I couldn’t look away, and for the first time in all my life, I felt truly torn, like I was seeing the Liam, the Mad Hatter, and Liam, the father, standing at odds inside myself. The boss in me, the monster in me, wanted to smack my own son, tell him to grow up, that Ethan had done the right thing. You protect your family first. Fuck Abby. Fuck anyone who wasn’t a Callahan. The father in me, though, the person I would be if I wasn’t a boss, if we were normal, that part would have been proud of him. Proud that he was willing to sacrifice everything to save his friends, that he had that kind of bravery…but like always, the monster in me won out.
“Wyatt,” I said, my face emotionless. “You are my son. My blood. So I will let you wipe your face. I will forgive you this one time because I know this is hard and you are still young. But if you ever put yourself or your siblings in danger trying to save someone who is not family…you will no longer be my son, do you understand me? The family is all that matters. Now, tomorrow, and forever.”
He stared at me, stunned. As I stood up straighter, I reached into my j
acket pocket for my phone and saw twenty-seven missed calls from Mel.
Shit. She’s going to… No sooner had I thought of her than my phone rang once more.
“Ethan, your mother,” I answered, handing the phone off, but before he could speak, Dona grabbed the phone, grinning widely.
“Momma where are you? Ethan is crying!” She giggled.
“Dona! Stop lying!” Ethan tried to grab the phone and she ran away from him. Wyatt didn’t say anything, moving to sit on the couch quietly.
We need to stop babying them. Mel’s voice rang in my mind. The thing was, Wyatt wasn’t being a baby…he was developing a moral compass.
“Boss.” Fedel walked inside a simple file in his hand, the look in his eyes unsettling me.
“What now?” I snapped, snatching the file from him. Inside were two pictures and a one-sentence note.
Before you harm another man’s child, remember you have three of your own. For the sake of peace, let this be the last time our guns cross.
~ Tàiyáng Ju-long
I flipped through the photos: Dona screaming from behind the blue table, her hands gripping so hard they looked white. Wyatt reaching for some girl in a purple coat in the far-off edge of the frame while Ethan dragged him over to where Dona was. Whoever had taken them had done so from close.
“For the sake of peace, he says.” I hissed through my teeth. “His son broke my rules, he takes shots at my children, and now he wants fucking peace?”
“They also sent it to the governor’s office sir. I have people looking through all the street camera—”
“Daddy!” Dona skipped right back to me, handing me the phone. “Mommy says she wants to talk to you.”
“Thank you, princess.” I smiled, taking the phone as she ran back to Wyatt and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was annoyed but couldn’t help but laugh when she said something.