A Bloody Kingdom

by J. J. McAvoy

  “Mommy?” Wyatt called out when I glanced to him; he had somehow gotten the remote in his tiny hands.

  “Yes?”

  “The movie, which one?”

  “Anything is fine.” The moment I said it, they all started to call out movie titles as I just sat there leaning against my headboard.

  Cora, the child whisperer, somehow came in time, holding baby Darcy in one hand and calming the rest of them with the other. They settled on something called Spy Kids. The moment it came on they stopped talking, their eyes focused on the screen like little zombies.

  Creepy as fuck.

  Even so, I was so mesmerized by them that I didn’t notice when Liam snuck out of the room. Declan was the one who tiptoed around to me and handed me a cell phone. He didn’t say anything. The screen came on…there in our basement was Ruò Jiàn. He gave me an earpiece, and petting Helen’s head, he left just as quietly as he had come in.

  Apparently I was going to be watching another movie.

  LIAM

  “Mel…She was shot…I don’t know how bad but…”

  “There is a lot of blood in front of those hospital doors...”

  “Her condition is critical, but we managed to stop the bleeding. However, if she doesn’t get a new heart in the next day or so—”

  “She’s coding! I need a crash cart in here!”

  “Her heart is failing…”

  Like a horror show, the events of the last two weeks replayed in my mind over and over again. It haunted me, to the point where I felt like I was losing my mind. For Mel’s sake, for our children’s sake, I had to push past it. I had to act as if I was above it. All the smiling, all the laughing was taking a toll on me. I didn’t want laugh or smile. I wanted blood.

  “Who’s there? You don’t know who you’re messing with.” Ruò Jiàn foolishly cried out, his head whipping in every direction when I stepped into the room.

  “Untie him and take off his blindfold,” I said to Neal, who did so as I took off my jacket and handed it to Fedel.

  “It’s you…” He gasped out as I lifted the tie from my neck.

  Slowly, I undid the buttons of my sleeves and rolled them up. “Leave us.”

  Fedel, Neal, and the two other guards in the room walked out, leaving me alone with the only person I could take my aggression out on right then. Sliding off my wedding ring and placing it in my jacket pocket, I put on the brass knuckles. His eyes widened.

  “I left your city! I LEFT! I—”

  His head snapped back the moment I connected with his nose. Blood poured down into his mouth, his nose cut open, and he stumbled back. He held on to his face with one hand and held the other up to me.

  “Whatever you want! Whatever you want I’ll give—” I didn’t wait, I couldn’t stop myself. Over and over again I punched him, blood splattering into my face, covering my hands. When he fell to the ground, I lifted him by the collar and beat into his flesh more. Bones cracked, teeth fell from his mouth, and still I could not stop. My vision was completely red.

  How dare they? “How fucking dare you!” I screamed. His body limply slumped over. “No, you don’t get to die, not until I hang you up by your balls and you beg, until you and your little bitch of a sister are begging me to die, then I will cut off your heads, do you hear me? YOU DON’T GET TO DIE! You haven’t suffered nearly enough!”

  “Liam.”

  When I glanced up, Melody stood at the doorway. She didn’t say anything, just stared at me, and the more she did, the more my mind cleared up. When I looked back down at him, I couldn’t even see his face anymore. Just blood, flesh, and drool. I let him go and he fell back onto the ground like a broken doll. Rising to my feet, I stepped back, wiping the side of my face as I took a deep breath.

  “Your hands.” She finally spoke again, lifting my hands up between us; the brass knuckles had dug into my own so badly that when she slid them off, a bit of my skin went with it.

  “I’m fine, you should—”

  “If you tell me to rest one more time you will look worse than our guest here.” She grumbled, taking the second pair off my hands. “I knew you were holding back, but if you don’t control yourself, he’ll die and we won’t get answers.”

  Part of me didn’t want the answers; I just wanted them dead.

  “Declan,” she called out and he, along with a doctor—I wasn’t sure how he was already there—came in. Declan handed her a first aid kit as the doctor moved over to the pile of shit bleeding on my floor.

  “Sit.” Melody snapped at me, reaching up and tilting my head to the side so I could and would only focus on her. “Now, Liam.”

  Sighing, I followed her direction, moving to sit back on the chair I had left my jacket and coat on. Kneeling in front of me, she took out the cotton balls, drenching them in alcohol before placing them on my knuckles.

  “Ouch!” I hissed at her.

  “Oh boo hoo, you big baby,” she muttered under her breath but dabbed lighter on the second knuckle. There was nothing else either of us could say so I just sat there, letting her treat me as we waited for the fucker to come back…

  And waited.

  And waited.

  And motherfucking waited until I was ready to smack him back to life. Two hours we waited until he was drugged up on so much morphine he was able to sit up and talk…somewhat.

  “Give us the room,” she said to me, and the look in her eyes was the only reason why I didn’t argue, stepping out to join Declan and Neal watching through the mirror.

  “Tell me everything about your sister and Emilio,” Melody said to him, calmly. He could only open one of his eyes. He swayed side to side almost imperceptibly, trying to stay alert. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” she added, and I almost had a fucking heart attack.

  “What?” Neal gasped in shock, the rest of us far too stunned to speak.

  Mel? My wife? The woman with not a single apologetic bone in her body, had said she was sorry? Either I was dead or she was on some hell of a drug…

  “Liam Callahan is dangerous. He will keep you alive to torture you for as long as possible.” What is she doing?

  “Why…why do you care?” he managed to say.

  “I care because I know this isn’t your fault,” she whispered. “And you had nothing to do with any of this. You are just as much a victim as I am. I don’t know what you heard about me, but it’s not true, and I don’t want to see any more people hurt.”

  “Liling says….” He took a deep breath. “My…sister…she says you’re a…a monster…a liar.”

  “Your sister killed children. Innocent children. I may not be a saint, but I’m not a monster or a liar.” She was lying; she was both of those things. “Liam listens to me because I’m smart and he loves me.”

  “She couldn’t pass up the opportunity to flatter herself.” I rolled my eyes and both Declan and Neal snickered.

  “If I tell you, he’s going to kill my sister—”

  “Ruò Jiàn?” She took a towel to wipe the drool coming from his mouth. “Your sister didn’t just kill children, she killed your father. She and Emilio don’t care about anyone but themselves. How did you think you got here? They didn’t protect you because they didn’t care. It’s time for you to take care of yourself. Join hands with Liam. I’ll make sure he hears you out. You should be the head of your family. You should be the leader of the Tàiyáng triad, not your sister, not some outsider. You. Liam can make it happen, you just have to tell him what you know.”

  She was fucking brilliant. She meant none of the words coming out of her mouth and yet said them so passionately you had to believe…and he did.

  “Liling always wanted to be the head of the family.” He sang like a canary in a coal mine. “Father kept denying her. Half of the triad supports her, the other doesn’t. She’s trying to prove herself. I don’t know where she met Emilio, or anything else other than he was the son of some powerful man. He’s smart and invented this ne
w drug, Blphine, and it spread all over China so Father welcomed him. However, he didn’t tell us that those who take Blphine will be dead in a year. Father asked him to lower the dose, but it wouldn’t be as effective, so he took it and brought it here, and Liling followed. I know nothing else about him, other than…”

  “Other than?”

  He coughed and she held on to him. “Are you okay? Sorry, dumb question.”

  Oh God, Melody. Don’t you think you are taking the kindness rise just a bit far?

  “No…no…it’s just…he’s obsessed with you.”

  What?

  “What?” She had read my mind.

  “Emilio,” he repeated, “he’s obsessed. Liling complained once that he had a whole room filled with photos of you. She’s jealous. She wasn’t supposed to shoot to kill you. He almost killed her when he found out. That’s all I know, I swear. Whatever it is, he wants you.”

  Melody glanced over at the mirror, and before he or I could even blink, she pulled out a gun, held it to his head, and pulled the trigger.

  EIGHTEEN

  “Never chase people down and beg for their loyalty and respect. It's either they're with you or they're not.”

  ~ Unknown

  CORA

  “Thank you, Father, your sermon was beautiful.” I reached out and shook his hand.

  He placed his hand on top of mine. “Of course, my dear. I’m quite sorry for your loss. May your cousin rest in peace.”

  Nodding, he let go as other members of the congregation approached, leaving me standing at the church doors. Turning back, I walked toward the altar, a photo of Imani surrounded by her favorite anemone flowers.

  “Rest in peace?”

  I didn’t even need to turn back to know who it was. She reeked of Chanel Number 5 and an inflated sense of self-importance. When I did turn around, I saw she was dressed in a huge, horrible black church hat, suit, gloves, and even a black handkerchief.

  “How can my daughter rest knowing her murderer is walking around free?” my aunt asked coolly. “When the murderer dares to even show up at her funeral.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunty, I don’t know who you are talking about. Imani died of an air embolism. I’m sure it must be very tragic for you; after all, you visited her about a dozen times in the last decade.” Turning to her, I saw her brown eyes glaring back at me. “Please accept my condolences—”

  SLAP.

  For a woman in her sixties, I had to hand to her—she could smack the hell out of a person. My cheek burned so badly I hand to flex my jaw and rub the side of my face.

  “Do you think I’m a fool?” she snapped, stepping into my face. “One moment my daughter is fine, then the next your sister-in-law needs a heart and my daughter is dead. She trusted you and you served her up on a platter. Do you have no shame, Coraline? Do you have no heart or soul or anything in you anymore that makes you a human being? She was family! Our family! My family! You weren’t always like this; how corrupt, how low, have you become?”

  I smiled at that. “Our family? We were never family. I was your ATM, your emotional punching bag, and when I finally punch back, now I’m the corrupt one? The heartless one? Where was your speech after your daughter murdered a man and tried to blame me? Where was your heart when she found out she was sick or when she was in the hospital? Where were you? What were you doing? Oh right, you were jumping from one rich man—” I saw her lift her hand to slap me again and I prepared for it, but before she could, Declan grabbed her wrist.

  “Ma’am, I understand you are grieving, but no one hits my wife for any reason, at least not without a fight from me. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can talk it out,” he said calmly. In all honesty, I didn’t want him there right then.

  “One day Coraline, one day all of this will come back to you and you will suffer for it. But don’t worry, I’ll still come to your funeral and offer my condolences.” She turned around to leave.

  Declan moved to take my hand but I weaved around him, saying nothing as we stepped back outside, the sun so bright I had to put my sunglasses on again. I didn’t have the energy to talk to anyone and luckily I didn’t have to as the car pulled right up in front of the church at that moment. Declan held the door open for me to slide in first and when I did, the noise of the outside world muffled. I closed my eyes, breathing in calmly.

  “You were going to let her hit you,” he said, and I didn’t reply or bother to look at him. “You were going to let her slap you because you think you deserve to be slapped. You want to be punished for it.”

  We went to a few couple’s therapy sessions and now he thinks he can always just read my mind.

  “I’m not going to say you did nothing wrong,” he replied, and at that I did open my eyes to stare at him through actual rose-colored glasses. “I’m not going to say you did a good thing or even the right thing. It’s not as simple as that. You did the best you could do for us and our family. Everyone one else in the world may judge you, but to us and our family, it means everything. Thank you, Cora, for everything.” He kissed the back of my hand.

  Was it possible to feel guilty without regretting what you had done? If so, that was how I felt. Leaning toward him, I didn’t speak because I didn’t know what to say. Instead, I just laid my head on his shoulder.

  Life would be a lot easier without guilt.

  FEDEL

  “You shouda seen these idiots half dazed, they were just walkin around like motherfucking zombies, had half a mind to go out there beat some sense into them. Their poor mothers mustuv lost their minds. All of them running around screaming Potresti aiutarmi? Ho bisogno di un dottore!” Big Tony spoke to the whole barbershop as he leaned in close to the back of the man’s head sitting in the chair across from me, using a comb and scissors to cut closer. Despite his name, Big Tony was actually no taller than 5’7” and weighed less than one sixty, but what he lacked in appearance, he made up for in personality. He had moved to Chicago from Jersey at eight years old and now at fifty-four, his shop was where all the Italians came for their cut or a good bullshit story.

  “Aeh Fedel, what the bosses saying about this new drug and shit? Is it really making people into zombies like Big Tony says or he blowin’ hot air again?” Giulio, the man in the chair, snickered.

  “Yeah.” I lifted my chin for Dino, my barber, to spread the shaving cream. “It’s the apocalypse, Giulio, we got people eating faces and shit.” I got a few laughs from everyone around the shop, even Big Tony. “No, but this Blphine, it ain’t safe, and will kill you faster than taking smack and crystal back to back.”

  “What I tell you, boys? Things made in China!” Big Tony replied and even I snickered at that. “Probably sniffing smog, plastic, and dog bones.”

  “You racist as shit, Big Tony,” someone yelled and he just flipped them off.

  “Vai e for titi, grassone bastardo,” he snapped back, which got the man on his feet. Three seconds—that’s how long it took for us to get into an argument. Jesus, our people, I swore they lived for that shit.

  “What all this bitchin about, you little babies?” Uncle Vinnie hollered, coming out of the bathroom still adjusting his belt. Always clean-shaven with a top hat, sweater, and tie, Vincent Buccieri—or Uncle Vinnie as everyone called him because he really was like that odd old uncle no really knew at the wedding but somehow everyone was talking to anyway—was the oldest of us all, pushing eighty-seven next month. “When I was your age we were kickin them Irish dogs out the city, not fightin our own damn selves.”

  “How many times we gotta tell you? We ain’t at war with the Irish any more, Uncle Vinnie,” Big Tony reminded him.

  “We always at war!” He pointed his cane back at him. “You pussies have forgotten that since you been following pussy.”

  One by one their eyes all shifted to me. It wasn’t a secret that I was the right hand of Melody Nicci Giovanni Callahan; it was part of the reason so many of them also came here, to get a word or a favor or a job in through me. They never ma
de the mistake of insulting her in front of me.

  “Oh yeah, Uncle Vinnie,” I said, sitting up in the chair. “The boss wanted me to thank you and your wife for the bottle of 1990 Masseto.”

  “Non c'è problema!” he said, moving to take a seat in an empty barber chair.

  “She asked if your wife enjoyed the 1961 Barolo Riserva she sent over,” I added.

  “E' perfetto!” He kissed his fingertips. “I’ve always said no one can pick a bottle of wine like a Giovanni. When Orlando was young, they used to say if wine wasn’t flowing in the street of Bosa, he was either sleeping or fucking.”

  I snickered at that. The last time I’d gone back to Bosa was right after Wyatt and Donatella’s fourth birthday.

  “Fedel, how many more free haircuts until I'm upgraded to bottle service?” Big Tony asked me.

  “When have I ever gotten a free anything?”

  He frowned at me clippers, then at me. “See this, my friends? Straight up stingy, complaining about free haircuts when he can afford them.”

  “Let’s not get sidetracked. Uncle Vinnie, when did you start givin and gettin thousand dollar bottles?” Giulio gasped out like the rest of the men there.

  Uncle Vinnie pulled out his newspaper, proudly stating, “Il Buccieri e Giovanni sono famiglia.”

  “If you two are family, what are the rest of us?” Giulio questioned.

  Everyone turned to Uncle Vinnie, who looked over the corner of his paper. “I don’t know about them, but sei uno stronzo!”

  We all laughed so hard at how matter-of-factly he said it.

  “What so funny?” asked a small boy who looked around the same age as Ethan and had short brown hair and hazel yes. “I don’t understand.”