by J. J. McAvoy
“Achoo!” Somebody sneezed under me.
“Salute,” another man with a much deeper voice replied.
“Grazie,” he said back, and I wasn’t sure but I thought he said, “They say it’s bad.”
“Yeah. Hard to believe the boss dying like that. She’s one tough bitch.”
I frowned, not sure who they were talking about. The boss? A bitch? What?
“To think Melody Nicci Giovanni dies in the street like a dog.”
Mommy? What? I tried to slide over farther when all of a sudden I was yanked back into the house, the grip on my ankles and the back of my shirt not letting up until I was flipped onto the bed.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Uncle Neal hollered right in my face. He was so angry he looked like the Hulk; a vein was even sticking out in his neck. The only time I had ever seen him like that was when someone called Nari a bad name. He took a deep breath when I backed away from him. “You could have gotten yourself killed, Ethan.”
“No, I do it all the time.” I frowned; I was good at climbing up stuff.
“That’s—” He started to yell again, but just shook his head at me instead, bending down in front of my bed. “That’s not what I meant. You need to stay inside until we know it’s safe okay?”
“Safe from what?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. “Uncle Neal. Safe from what? Did something happen? Where is my mom? They said something happened to my mom.”
Uncle Neal was a good liar, but Uncle Declan and Dad were better liars, so I could tell when he was lying.
“Your mom’s fine. She’s just working late.” That was his lie, and I didn’t want to be a baby. I didn’t want to get upset or angry, but that pain came back in my chest. It hurt, it hurt more than when Wyatt said he hated me.
“Ethan—”
“You’re lying.” No. No. No. I don’t want to cry. Big kids don’t cry. Dad never cries. Wiping my face as fast as I could, it wouldn’t stop. Damn it! “My mom! What happened to my mom! Is she dead?”
“No—”
“Then let me call her,” I said, reaching to my bedside table for the phone my dad had given me for emergencies only, but he took it from me.
“Ethan?” Wyatt woke up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?
“Nothing’s going on, go back to bed, Wyatt.” Uncle Neal lied again, this time taking me by the hand and dragging me out of the room.
“Let go! Give it back!” I tried to pull away.
“This is the first time you’ve acted like a little brat in a long time Ethan. I’m disappointed.” It wasn’t Uncle Neal who said that. Turning back, I froze, staring up at my Nana, my nose running no matter how much I tried to suck it up. She crossed her arms, frowning at me.
“You’re the oldest, so when your father isn’t around, you’re the one he counts on to take care of your siblings. If he saw you right now, he’d be disappointed,” she added when Uncle Neal let go of my arms. I fell right in front of her.
“They…they said my mom was dead. It’s not true, right?” I whispered.
“No, she’s not dead. But—”
“Ma, don’t.” Uncle Neal cut her off, but she ignored him, brushing her hand on my face.
“Your mom is hurt, Ethan.” She smiled sadly, and for some reason I couldn’t move. “I’m telling you this because your brother and sister will find out and when they do, they are going to need their big brother to be strong.”
“But…but is she okay?” Nobody could hurt my mommy. Dad always said she was the strongest. No one was stronger than her.
“She’s going to be. Your mother is Melody Nicci Giovanni Callahan, do you know what her name means?”
I shook my head. “It’s just a name.”
“Melody, to sing, Nicci, of victory, Giovanni, the one shown favor, Callahan, wise. It’s not just a name. It’s who she is. And you are Ethan, strong and enduring. No one in our family makes a mistake when naming their children. Be strong when everyone can’t be. Endure even when it feels like it’s too painful, and you will never let your parents or yourself down.”
Wiping my face, I got up, coughing until my throat didn’t feel shaky anymore. “Sorry, Nana.”
“My precious, you never have to tell me sorry for anything.” She hugged me. Nana always smelled like vanilla and it made me feel better. “Now off to bed.”
Nodding, I walked back into the room to find Wyatt poking his head out the same window I had.
“Wyatt, no.” I ran over to him, pulling him back.
He frowned. “What is going on? Why are we here? Where are Mommy and Daddy? Why were you crying?”
“I wasn’t crying.”
He crossed his arms. “You suck at lying.”
“Shut up.” I pushed him out of the way, closing the window and stepping on my bed to lock it at the top.
“Ethan tell me, it’s not fair, you know—”
“I don’t know.” I jumped back onto the bed. “I don’t know what is going on. They said Mom got hurt—”
“What?!” he yelled, and I clasped my hand over his mouth.
“You’ll wake up Dona—”
“I’m already awake.” She rolled over, gripping her pet elephant to her chest. “You guys are noisy.”
“Sorry, Dona—eww!” I pulled my hand back when Wyatt licked it.
“That’s what you get!” He snapped at me. “What’s wrong with Mom?”
“I don’t know! But she’s going to be fine—”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s Mom!” I screamed back at him. He stopped for a moment and I took a deep breath just like Uncle Neal had. “It’s Mom. She’s going to be okay, so stop yelling at me. I don’t know anything else.”
“Aren’t you guys hurt?” Dona asked, still not getting out of bed. “I hurt all over.”
It was only when she said it that I felt my legs start to wobble and my back was just painful. Wyatt lifted up his shirt and all over his skin were purple bruises.
“Aunt Cora said not to move around too much or it will hurt more. You guys don’t listen.” She shook her head at us, turning over.
“Thanks, Dona,” Wyatt grumbled, stumbling back over to his bed. “You are an amazing sister.”
“I know.” She giggled.
“Sarcasm, ever heard of it?” He threw a pillow at her.
She took it and threw it right back. “Nope.”
“Guys we need to go to bed—” Two pillows hit me square in the face, and they just laughed. Grabbing them both, I glared. “Oh, this is war.”
MELODY
9:07 PM
“Mrs. Callahan?”
“Mrs. Callahan?”
“Mrs. Callahan, can you hear me?”
Yes, and your breath smells like stale hot dogs and bad coffee.
“Mrs. Callahan?”
Who is this?
I tried to lift my eyelids, but they felt like they were taped shut. Why can’t I move? What the fuck? What’s going on? Where am I?
“Mel, baby.”
Liam?
I relaxed when I felt him beside me, stroking the side of my head, his hand in mine.
“Mel, I need you to open your eyes for me all right? Just for a second?”
When I tried again, my eyes snapped open and I had to shut them quickly, trying to turn away from the light blinding me.
“Ugh…” I tried to tell them to turn off the lights, but my throat felt like sandpaper on a cat’s ass.
“Thank fucking Christ.” Liam kissed the top of my head.
What is this?
Again, I opened my eyes. Everything blurred together as if I were drunk until I saw Hot Dog Breath above me. His hair was red, his eyes were brown, and he was far too close for my comfort.
“Mrs. Callahan, I’m Dr. Fortmen. Do you remember what happened?” he asked, shining a light in my eyes.
Stop it! I wanted to yell, but the only thing that came out of my mouth sounded like a grunt.
“L…iam…”
I finally managed to get out, ignoring the pain in my throat.
“Yeah—”
“Ge…ge…t…him…a…way.”
He laughed again, kissing my forehead.
“Bear with him, okay? He’s fought to bring you back from the brink of hell more than once in the last twenty-four hours.”
Is that why I feel like shit?
Closing my eyes, I tried to remember what happened…
BANG!
“Melody! Melody!”
“Shot…” I was shot. I was fucking shot!
“Can you feel this?”
He asked rubbing something cool under my feet; I jerked away. “Yes.”
“That’s good. There seems to be no initial long- or short-term brain damage.” Dr. Hotdog—Fortmen, he saved my life, I should, at least, call him by his name. “However, she’s going to be here for another two weeks and will need at least three more months of monitoring once she goes home, just to make sure there aren’t any complications with the transplant.”
My eyes widened, and beside me, the machine connected to my heart rate spiked as well. Liam squeezed my hand. “Mel relax, breathe, you’re okay…wife, you’re okay.”
“Trans…transplant?” I winced and I didn’t know what from: the pain in my chest, the pain in my throat, or the raging headache now forming.
“I’ll give you two some time,” the doctor said, and for the first time, I noticed the team of doctors behind him clearing out one by one until it was only Liam and me. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand on mine, the corners of his lips turned up in a small smirk—but it didn’t make it to his eyes. His tie—the green tie I’d gotten him because it brought out his eyes—hung loosely off his neck. The collar of his shirt was rumpled, the sleeves rolled up to his wrists. He looked like someone had run him over and he had barely made it out alive.
“Liam?” I squeezed his hand.
“I almost lost you,” he whispered, biting the corner of his lip. Dropping his head, he just brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it not once or twice, but three times. “I thought I lost you, Mel. I couldn’t feel you. You were hurt badly and we had to find you a new heart. Thankfully Cora came through, but until then you just lay there. You stopped breathing twice and both times I was ready to join you. I died, too… Damn it, Mel. Every time I let you out of my sight, I swear it’s like you try to leave me.”
When he finally looked me in the eye, all I saw was pain and tears he wouldn’t let fall. Instead, the tears fell out of my eyes.
“I came back.” I smiled, and I was far too tired to do anything else but squeeze his hand back. “I always come back to you, don’t I?”
He smiled too, shaking his head. “Yeah…you always come back. I just prefer you not leaving to begin with.”
“Duly noted.” I nodded, relaxing into the pillows. “Who did this?”
“Our newly inducted mayor, Emilio Esteban Cortés, and his wife Liling Tàiyáng.” He sneered.
“Fucking cunts.” I hissed through my teeth, the heart rate machine beside me going off again. Two more doctors ran in.
“You need to take it easy, Mrs. Callahan. You can’t put any unnecessary stress on yourself,” a woman said as she checked the machines and looked me over once again.
Unnecessary stress? Being stressed about some fucktard and his bitch of a wife nearly killing me and ruining everything our family has built in this city seems pretty fucking necessary to me.
“Wife,” Liam sternly whispered beside me, drawing my attention from her back to him. He placed his forehead on mine so I could look nowhere but his eyes. “There is no expiration date on vengeance. It doesn’t just last a lifetime, it spans generations. So let us rest tonight; it is not us who will die tomorrow.”
Slowly a smile spread across my lips. “Shakespeare’s got nothin’ on you.”
He said something but I didn’t hear it. I was far too tired to keep my eyes open anymore and falling back asleep was the one single thought that ran through my mind.
When I get out of this bed I’m coming for every fucking one who thought they could take me. I am Melody Nicci Giovanni Callahan. I won’t die so easily, you stupid motherfuckers.
LIAM
I waited an hour after she fell asleep before finally leaving her side. For the first time in twenty-four hours, I was finally able to think straight, think beyond her and what would or could or might happen. Glancing back at her, her chest rising and falling as she slept comfortably, I closed the door behind me and stepped out into the hall where Fedel and Declan stood in wait for me.
“Is he here?” I asked, adjusting my jacket and tie. I rolled my shoulders to crack my back and groaned, aching far more than I’d expected. I was going to need them to put better chairs in her room; Jesus, it was like resting on bricks.
“Liam, I don’t know what is going on here, but this could be a trap,” Declan said, his whole body tense. “When he cornered me, he swore that he and his family had been set up. Next thing we know his son-in-law is the fucking mayor.”
“Is he here?” I asked again, focusing on Fedel.
“He just arrived and is now waiting for you in the cafeteria,” he answered, stepping aside.
“Perfect. I’m in the mood for Jell-O.” I only made it a few steps before realizing Declan was following me. “You stay—”
“Liam, you can’t go alone.”
“Why?”
He stared at me as if he wasn’t sure what the hell was wrong with me, and I wondered what the hell could make him so fearful to begin with.
“Liam—”
Standing right beside him, I spoke low, only for him to hear. “Declan, I’m not an idiot. I also don’t know what is going on right now. All I do know is my wife, the most important person to me, is resting behind that door, and the only person I completely and fully trust to protect her when I cannot is you. So as I said, you will stay here at her door like Cerberus, the guard dog of hell, am I clear?”
He cracked his jaw to the side but nodded.
“Brilliant. To the cafeteria, then.” I turned back around, Fedel shadowing me.
As we got onto the elevator, I thought about a dozen ways this ‘meeting’ could end, and each way all I saw was death. I didn’t care if he was being framed, I didn’t care if this was some misunderstanding. I knew two things: his daughter shot my wife, and his son-in-law was now the mayor of my city. They had gone against my rules. They had broken our unspoken treaty and they would die.
Ding. “Cafeteria floor,” the automatic voice stated as the doors opened. Fedel tensed and I knew he already had his hand on the trigger.
A shootout in a hospital? I doubt it.
“He’s not breathing! I need an AED!”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered to myself, watching as doctors rushed to the care of none other than Ju-long. He lay on the ground, his cane and hat tossed to the side, the tea he had been drinking pouring off the top of the square table onto the floor beside his head. One doctor was above him, pumping his chest, and another held a pump to his mouth.
He’s gone. It was a simple statement and yet the ramifications of his death were endless. I was more than positive a man like Ju-long Tàiyáng didn’t just keel over and die the moment he was supposed to have a meeting with me, which meant two things.
First, he had told Declan the truth and in no way had anything to do with the attacks on my family.
Second, this was probably one of the smoothest coup d'états I had ever witnessed. His daughter and her husband had not only managed to get a foothold in Chicago overnight but also get rid of the head of the Chinese triad, making it look it was something I did out of retaliation.
“Time of death, 10:14 AM.” They finally said what had been clear from the start.
Well played, you fuckers. Well played.
SEVENTEEN
“To the ancient Greeks the word dikaiosini, justice, was often synonymous with ekdikisis, vengeance.”
~ Si
dney Sheldon
MELODY
Today, Mayor Cortés, the city’s first mayor of Hispanic descent, announced that the manhunt for Luke Charlton, the shooter behind the murder of nine children at Pennington Academy and four more young lives at Lincoln Elementary just two weeks ago has come to an end. Charlton, who died via suicide, confessed to the murders to a family friend, who tipped off police. The Chicago PD have confiscated his rifles along with bullets they say all match the scenes of the crimes. However, the chief detective on the case says the investigation on what led up to these tragic days may take weeks. At this time, Charlton has not been linked to or ruled out of the attempted assassination of Governor Callahan, whom doctors say is recovering well and is due to go home today. This—
“Hey!” I snapped at Liam when he turned the television off and moved to make himself comfortable in the tiniest spot on the bed beside me. Resting his hand over his eyes, he yawned. “It’s all lies, forget it and rest.”
“I’ve been resting for almost two weeks now, Liam—”
“Rest more.”
I wanted to push him off the bed so damn badly, but instead I just lay back next to him. “Liam if I stay in this goddamn hospital for one more day I’m going to lose my mind. Every second I’m in here is a second they are fucking with our city!”
He didn’t open his eyes, just took a deep breath and said, “Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth and you—ouch! Fuck, Mel.”
He cried out when he rolled off the bed. He didn’t fall, but he did sit up and glare down at me. Taking his advice, I took a deep annoying breath through my nose and out through my mouth.
“Happy? Now spring me from this joint.”
He snorted before laughing, a grin plastered all over his face as he got up and kissed my forehead. “Are we going to drive off into the sunset like Bonnie and Clyde?”