Children of Vice

by J. J. McAvoy

  Stepping out into the cold, familiar alley, I inhaled the cold air, reaching into my pocket to grab the pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, I didn’t smoke it but left it on the stairs next to me…the mere scent of it reminding me of the many times I’d caught my father hiding in this very same alley for a smoke break. I’d lost count how many hospital visits we’d had to endure. But I always remembered coming out here to sit with him.

  “You’d think I was insane too, right, Pop?” I asked softly. I stared at the sky, the fading scar of smoke in the distance still evident. “Can’t say I mind, though…I have peace.”

  Every time I came to this godforsaken city I felt as though my lungs were collapsing. It never ended. We’d get revenge, someone else sought revenge against our revenge, and over and over and over again until mothers were burying their children and vice versa. The circle of viciousness lived on from generation to generation. I just wanted it to end. And so I took myself out of it. I had to.

  “Did you hear the Callahans got themselves some fancy suite?” Some idiot laughed right under the staircase. “Yea, they’re all here. Half the damn Irish in the city are here.”

  Rolling my eyes, I stood up, moving to the door.

  “Exactly. Ain’t nobody at their fucking mansion.”

  I paused, looking up at the sky. Really, God? Why? Whatever. It wasn’t likely they’d make it past the security anyway.

  “Fuck the security. Well, fuck, you don’t have to piss on my idea like that. Damn.” He spat to the side of him and laughed. “Now you’re talking! I’m sure we could hit up some of the houses…I’m looking through some of the dead’s shit. I already got myself some nice watches.”

  Releasing the door handle and turning, I walked down the stairs, praying he’d hear me and at the very least run.

  “Na, I got a few crucifixes and wedding rings but nothing much yet. I asked—” When his dark eyes met mine I stared at the man wearing blue scrubs. He hung up quickly. “What the fuck you looking at?”

  I didn’t reply. My gaze dropped to the watch on his wrist.

  He looked at it. “A gift.”

  This disgusting shit.

  “I got work to do,” he said, turning around and trying to open the door to leave. Grabbing him by his shaggy hair, I pulled him back and slammed him against the brick wall right beside the door.

  “The dead give gifts now?” I asked, not waiting for him to reply before I bashed his skull into the red wall over and over until it caved in, until blood splattered onto my face, until his body was dead weight, until I fucking felt better. Then I let him fall.

  Bending down over him, I grabbed his phone, which was locked, but thank God for technology. Lifting his hand, I placed his thumb on the reader. Unlocked, I redialed the last number he’d called.

  “Mark? How dare you hang up me, you bitch!” a female yelled so loudly I had to pull the phone from my ear. I almost regretted killing the dipshit. I was sure this woman gave him hell as it was.

  “Mark can’t come to the phone anymore,” I said into the phone, looking down at the mess I’d made.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Sweetheart, if you don’t want to end up like your friend here I’d suggest you stop stealing from dead people and clean up your act.” Hanging up, I threw it back onto his chest.

  Chicago always brought out the worst in me.

  TWELVE

  “I see your bleeding dark side. I feel your angry heart. It reveals forbidden places. More monster yet alive...”

  ~ Static-X

  ETHAN

  Taking off my jacket and vest, I handed them to Ivy. She was so engrossed in what was happening, she didn’t even argue. Rubbing the side of my chin, I took a deep breath, turning toward the three stupid fucks now kneeling in the grass in front of me.

  My hands trembled.

  “Do you know my family had a rule against killing on Sundays?” I asked them as wind blew through us, sliding the gold brass knuckles onto my hands. “I’m very particular about keeping to the rules. So I’d never broken it…not until today.”

  My fist struck, the brass hit into the side of the first, the oldest one’s face. I grabbed onto his collar before he could fall over, hitting him again.

  “YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” I hollered as my fist hit his face over and over, flesh ripping out. It took all of my strength not to keep going. Peeling my hand back, dark blood dripped off it. I let go of him, and he toppled over. Reaching up, I wiped the blood from my cheek...or maybe I was spreading it more. Trying to calm myself down, I turned to the rest of them. None of them spoke. Not that they could with the tape over their mouths. Kneeling down, I put my hand on the next man’s face. “Do I really look like I’m the type of man who dies easily?”

  He glared at me.

  “I don’t like that look.” I frowned, pulling out my knife and stabbing him right in the eye.

  “MIGHJ! MEH!” he screamed against the tape, writhing like a worm in pain.

  “Much better.” I stepped back again. “You all must think you have balls of steel. You blew up a church. You all are so badass, right? Let’s see.”

  One by one my men pulled them to their feet, all of them but Sammy, and pulled their pants down. The moment they did, the three of them panicked.

  “Greyson, show them what type of men they really are.” I didn’t have to say it. He’d been waiting for it. His father was in that church. Grabbing onto the first one’s balls, he pulled on them before slicing through them. I was sure they were sobbing now, but I couldn’t hear anything over the thumping of my blood in my ears. The memory of Ivy, her first day out in the world as my woman, stumbling out covered in dust and blood, my grandmother burned, Donatella screaming. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I grabbed the balls on the grass and shoved them into its owner’s mouth before stomping on his mouth and face till he stopped writhing in pain and either died or gave in to the pain.

  Taking the knife from Greyson, I grabbed on the second one’s hair, pulling his face back and carving the word fhealltóir into his face. He struggled, only making it worse on himself. Done, I slammed my head against his. No words could express my anger any longer and I was just roaring out in rage. “AHHH!”

  Breathing heavily, each one of my men backed away from me as I reached into the back of the car, grabbing the rope and jar. Stomping back to Sammy, he just shook his head at me. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I pulled him toward the tree, tying the rope around it and him, as well as any former Boy Scout should before I ripped his shirt open. His skinny white chest rose and fell over and over again and his fear kicked in. I ripped his jeans off him until he stood in just his formerly white underwear.

  Flipping the blade in my hand, I then slid it deep into his stomach, making a gash deep enough to bleed him but not quickly.

  Opening the jar of honey, I spread it over his face. “Your uncle once told me you were terrified of insects…how badass. Enjoy.” I patted his cheek, dropping the jar beside his feet and turning back round. I was not sure why or how. But I’d forgotten about her. Her big blue eyes only on me, covered in blood, surrounded by dead or dying men. And what was worse was the fact that I couldn’t figure out what she was thinking.

  “Make sure they all die,” I said to the rest of them and turned, walking past Sammy toward the mansion farther up in the forest. I could hear her following me in silence.

  We walked until I couldn’t stand it.

  “THIS IS WHAT I AM!” I hollered, turning to face her, and she stumbled back. “Whatever juvenile thoughts you had about revenge, end them. Because this is the only way I settle things. Your cousins…pray they die quickly because if they don’t I’m going to chain them to my basement like the goddamn dogs they are until I decide I’m done torturing them and set them on fire.”

  “Okay.” She nodded.

  “Okay?” I took a step toward her, and she backed away. “Yet you’re scared.”

  “No.” She frowned, pointing to m
y hands. “Forget the fact that you just touched some guy’s balls…I’m allergic to honey.”

  She, still holding onto my clothes, walked around me and toward the mansion, leaving me so confused the only explanation for her half assed reaction was…Ivy was insane.

  Why did that make me smile?

  IVY

  His room was massive.

  And as I sat on his bed, I tried not to stare at him as he showered, because he didn’t have a fucking door, just a glass standing shower he stood under.

  Just one look wouldn’t hurt, I lied to myself, glancing over to see his perfectly sculpted ass. It looked so hard from here. Tilting my head to the side, I leaned forward, now just openly gaping, until he turned and his eyes were on me as water traveled down an even sexier chest than I could have imagined.

  Shit. Quickly, I faced forward again.

  I’d cleaned up at the hospital and yet still felt dirty. I wasn’t sure if it was really my body or my mind at this point. Hearing the shower stop, I pretended to be interested in my nails.

  “Are you so horny you can’t think of anything else?”

  “Hey!” My eyes shifted to him and focused. He stood naked at the side of the bed, using the towel to dry his hair and not cover…his cock…his very big…thick…

  “Hey?” He smirked, repeating me.

  “Shut up!” I muttered, throwing his jacket at him. Why the fuck was I still holding it? It was annoying.

  “I killed two men in front of—”

  “I don’t know. It’s like Schrödinger’s cat. They’re both dead and alive until someone can confirm either.”

  He looked at me like everyone else did at the prison when I’d keep eating even as someone got stabbed at my table.

  “They deserved it. You don’t have to question if I’m okay or not. Because they deserved it.”

  “And if I killed someone undeserving?” he asked, moving to sit on his couch naked…still. Thankfully he’d dropped his towel in his lap.

  I didn’t answer.

  He didn’t respond.

  So we watched each other until he spoke again.

  “How long are we going to do this, Ivy?”

  “What?”

  “Fuck each other with our eyes,” he said, doing exactly that.

  “We’ve only known each other for two days,” I said much softer...meeker than I wanted to, shifting on his bed.

  “So?” His eyebrow went up.

  He had a point. I didn’t even know him and I said yes to marrying him. Well, he’d never asked but still…

  “Ivy.”

  “Yes.”

  “Come here,” he demanded, and I couldn’t. I wouldn’t…but he just had to look at me at that moment and say, “Please…”

  Crawling forward on the bed until I got to the edge and stepped onto the wood, I stood between his legs. Sitting up, he placed his hand on the back of my thigh and rested his head on my stomach. Unable to stop myself, I ran my hands through his dark, wet hair.

  “Today…was a mess,” he muttered. “I wanted to show you some of the better parts of this family before it got dark.”

  “Why?” It’s not like my opinion mattered.

  He lifted his head. “This is forever. You’re mine forever. Once your anger is gone, what will make you stay?”

  I frowned at that and slowly leaned over him, allowing him to relax and me to sit on his lap. When I reached up to touch his face he pulled back slightly. “You don’t like being touched.” I wasn’t asking. I’d noticed no one touched him other than taking his arm.

  He nodded but didn’t speak, reminding me he only answered direct questions.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like how it makes me feel,” he replied honestly, but I still didn’t get it. He must’ve seen that because he went on. “When my grandmother reaches out to touch me, she’s doing it because she sees my father. I’m not my father. My sister, she reaches out when she’s breaking down. I can’t always be there to save her. I don’t want her to feel like she can count on me for that too. The rest of my family, it’s like they are expecting something. If they aren’t family they don’t need to touch me.”

  “And me?”

  He thought for a moment and simply said, “I’m not used to you.”

  Testing that theory, I reached out to touch his jaw, and this time he didn’t move away, allowing my hands to trace over his skin.

  “I have no one else,” I whispered gently, lightly tapping his skin. “This morning I woke thinking I didn’t want to be like you and your family. And now…”

  “And now?” He reached up, grabbing my hands.

  “And now, everything is broken.” I’d watched it as it broke. “What I believed. The people I cared about. Everything is gone. And there is nothing else for me but being Mrs. Ivy Callahan. There is nothing for me but this. So I’m going to enjoy this. You brought me here…I hope you know what you’ve done because I’m not going anywhere now.”

  He brought my chin down, stopping just as our lips hovered close. “What about earning you?”

  “Shut up and kiss me, Ethan.” I didn’t have to ask again before his lips were on mine. Shifting in his seat, his hand grabbed onto my waist as my body pressed up against his bare chest. His hot tongue slid into my mouth, my tongue swirling over his, tasting him. I felt him harden under me. His cock rose, poking my thigh through the towel. We kissed until my lungs burned and even then I wanted more…sadly, he pulled away, not much, but enough for both of us to breathe.

  Reaching up and behind me, I pulled down the zip of the dress, and he reached up, helping my arms out of the sleeves, and then taking off my bra himself. He tossed it off to the side, and free of the cups, my breasts bounced slightly in front of him. My dress was now in a pool around my waist.

  “Ahh…” I gasped when his cold hand cupped me gently, his thumb flicking my nipple before he leaned forward and took it into his mouth. Licking my lips, I gripped onto his hair, allowing him to kiss wherever he wanted. His right hand slid between my thighs and he froze as he touched the lips of my pussy.

  “You’ve been with me all day without underwear?”

  “I’m a little insulted you only just noticed.” I grinned at the lust in his eyes, reaching down to pull the towel and throw it in the same direction he’d thrown my bra.

  “Accept my apology then.”

  “Oh…” I gasped out, grabbing onto his shoulder as he slid two fingers into me. Biting down on my bottom lip, my hips rocked against his fingers, completely under his control, to my annoyance. I tried to glare at him as his fingers pulled out only to rub my wet pussy lips. He didn’t realize two people could play this game. Reaching down, I grabbed him, causing his mouth to part slightly. The same look I’d given him, he’d give me, too…

  “Ah…fuck.” I gritted my teeth as three of his fingers entered me. Closing my eyes, breathing through my nose, I wrapped my fingers around his cock, sliding them all the way down and back up, my thumb gliding over the tip of him.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered, kissing the top of my ear.

  I couldn’t. I could barely hold on as it was, let alone watch him watch me.

  “Ivy.” He said my name so softly and kissed the side of my face so gently you’d never believe he was the same man who’d just killed three men.

  Opening my eyes, his forehead rested on mine and my heart pounded against my chest as he took his fingers out of me, lifting my hips up slightly…waiting for me. Never looking away from his green eyes, I held his cock still, positioning it under my pussy. His grip on me tightened. I wasn’t sure it was him or me who was trembling…

  “Ahh…” Both of us moaned out as I slowly lowered myself on him.

  “Ivy…” He gritted his teeth, his eyes dropping down to my waist. I could feel him stretching me out. It was…it was the best pain on earth. Placing my hands on his shoulders, trying to breathe, I stayed still as he entered me completely. His arms wrapped around me tightly, his hands reachin
g up to my hair, bringing my face closer to his as we kissed. Every part of me was humming. As our mouths locked I deliberately began to move on top of him. We started slow, both of us torturing each other and ourselves.

  Pushing him against the chair, he stared at me hungrily as I rode on top of him, rising up slightly and then back down again. He watched and that turned me on far more than it should have. Reaching up, I held my hair up from my burning skin, moving faster, bouncing faster on top of his cock, the sound of our skins slapping together and our moans the only thing I could hear.

  “Fuck…” He hissed, holding on to me, thrusting up into me.

  “Ethan!” I could barely stop from screaming as it was.

  But he didn’t care. Holding on to me, he thrust up into me each time I came down, going deeper, making me crazier each and every time, to the point I didn’t care who heard me. Grabbing onto my breasts, I pinched my own nipples, crying out in pleasure as he filled every inch of me.

  My toes curling, the pressure in my stomach begging for release…he was… “Oh…oh…YES!”

  Coming on him, my body fell forward onto him, and he merely gripped my hips and lifted me from the chair with him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, my chest was on fire as he laid me on the bed. When he pulled out of me I missed him automatically.

  “If you think I’m done with you…you’re sadly mistaken.” He kissed my lips. Lying behind me, he lifted my leg up.

  I brushed my hair from my face. “I don’t mind being wrong…uhh…”

  “Louder,” he demanded, ramming his cock back into me. My mouth dropped open and I was sure I was drooling at this point, but I couldn’t help myself. I held on to the sheets as he fucked me…the gentleman on the couch now gone as he held my thigh up, pulling out only to thrust back forward.

  My mind was nothing much at this point. Whatever he wanted I’d give it to him just so he’d never stop.