by J. J. McAvoy
He snickered. “I called you picky.”
“And I said maybe you weren’t picky enough.”
“And you called me short.”
“I was leaving that part out on purpose.” I grinned, finally gripping my cat wine. “You grew, though, so I guess it didn’t matter.”
“It did matter.” He leered at me. “I’d never been so upset with a girl in my whole life. When you told me ‘so what?’ after I called you fat I was livid. My father…he laughed. Everyone laughed because I’d never lost a fight before.”
“Aww, poor Ethan,” I teased, and he rolled his eyes. “If it makes you feel better, I never felt like I won a fight.” Most times, even if I used my fist, I ended up punished in some way or shape.
“It doesn’t,” he said honestly.
We sat in silence for a while, just holding our mugs.
He felt so far standing only a few feet from me, so I put the cup back down and walked around to where he stood. His eyes dropped down to mine. Reaching over, I took his cup and put it down too, then just hugged him, nothing more. Just a hug. He wrapped his arms around me, his chin on my head, my cheek on his chest.
“You’re making me soft,” he whispered.
I smiled, squeezing tight. “Only for me, though.”
He didn’t reply, so I kept talking.
“You’re never allowed to say you aren’t romantic again.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
“Well, duh, they weren’t me.”
He snickered, and I felt his chest shake. “You’re really going to let this go to your head, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
He cared. He remembered. He came back for me. He loved me. I wasn’t letting go. I’d follow him this time, no matter where he went.
“Now that I know everything, will you tell me what you’re planning? Why we’re here?”
“I thought the revenge was obvious.”
He thought this was obvious?
“Ethan, we’re in a house across the street from the people we want to kill and they want to kill us. You have no one else but me here—”
“I have everyone here,” he said, pulling back slightly to look at me. “When they realize they need me, they need this family, we will stand here and watch as they crawl on their bellies from his house to this one, begging for mercy. Humility forced on the prideful is the very best kind of revenge for them. Everyone else who resists will find the people standing beside them will be the very same that will slit their throats.”
Before I could speak something smashed against the window behind him. I tried to go see what it was, but he held me still.
“Let them throw or shout what they want. No one can get into the house,” he replied. “For now let’s forget about them…I do believe I made you a promise this afternoon.”
I grinned when he zipped down my jacket, but I stepped back.
“Go play with your cheerleaders.”
His mouth dropped open slightly, and I stuck my tongue out at him.
“You’re right. I am petty.”
“Ivy...” He took a step toward me, and I bolted, causing him to chase me up the stairs.
How was it possible for one man to make me feel a hundred different emotions in one single day?
ETHAN
Her head rested on my lap, her naked body in between my legs, the sheets barely covering her as I leaned against the headboard. For some reason she preferred sleeping on me rather than the bed…but at least she could sleep. I, on the other hand, sat in wait, staring at the security feed on the screen mounted on the wallpapered wall before the bed. My plan would look insane to most people because for most people it would mean putting themselves in potential danger at all times. However, I was not most people, and I already lived in constant state of potential danger…so why not do it in front of them all. They thought I was just the boy who inherited the reign from his father…that I lived surrounded by bodyguards, in a mansion in some far away city so they could do whatever the fuck they wanted, they could disrespect me because they did not know me, they did not fear me. But when the devil moved into the neighborhood they’d know what true fear would be like.
Ringgg.
Ringgg.
Glancing at my watch, I smirked before reaching over and answering my cell phone. “Brother.”
“What have you done?”
“The first time you call me in five years, Brother, and that is what you ask me?” I tried to get up, to leave her to rest, but she just held on tighter, so I gave in and stayed put.
“I saw you this morning, so spare me the bullshit. I’ve gotten five ODs this evening. Two of them had GHB in their systems, the third had PCP, and the last two had ketamine mixed in with heroin.”
“Did you say five? That can’t be right—”
“I know how to do my fucking job. When did you start slacking on yours? You’re mixing shit now?”
“I trust you can do your job, Brother.” I tried not to let him kill my mood. “I just figured the death toll would be much higher by now…apparently, I need to lower my expectations.”
He was silent, but I merely laughed. GHB? PCP? They mixed date rape drugs with smack? Were they just excited or stupid?
“You’re doing this on purpose—”
“Being a doctor in this city is going to get a lot more stressful for a while, so good luck, little brother,” I replied, hanging up, and when I did she shifted under me.
“I think that is the most civil conversation I’ve heard you and your brother have,” she muttered.
“You’re right,” I said. She rolled over and I missed the feel of her on me immediately. Grabbing her arm, I pulled her back on my lap. “Where are you going?”
“It’s a little hard to have a conversation with you when your cock is inches from my face,” she said, shifting until her ass was right on top of me. “Better.”
“Not for me. I liked where your face was.” I grinned as she made a face at me. Pulling her closer to me, she put her arms around my neck. “Let me guess...my wife wants to know what my brother and I were being civil over.”
She nodded.
“Drugs.”
“What?” she asked, surprised by the answer.
Nodding, I repeated it again. “Apparently the doctor didn’t like that his drug dealer brother had a bad batch of drugs on the street causing people to OD before reaching his hospital.”
“He can’t blame you for every drug dealer on the street,” she said as if that was obvious, and it proved how innocent she was to this.
“Yesterday he could,” I told her honestly. “Because yesterday I supplied every drug dealer on the street. But not anymore. I told Cillian the Callahans pulled out of Boston, which means he’s now the supplier. However, over the years more and more people in the Northeast have become addicted to heroin. The demand is high and because my family also controls 99 percent of the heroin coming into the port here that means the Finnegan brothers don’t have enough and they’re mixing anything they can to sell. The money will rain on them for a little bit and they’re going to think they are kings, but the demand will only worsen as people’s highs are cut short and they come looking for more.”
“And I doubt the Callahan family will give up their 99 percent,” she said, connecting the dots. “Which means they’ll have to mix more and more and people will start to die faster and faster.”
“Also causing the government to have to step in and face that ugly secret no one wants to admit…there is a drug problem in Massachusetts. The druggies don’t give a fuck where their high comes from as long as they get their fix. The government can ignore it if there isn’t a high death toll. People don’t complain if they get rich. It’s a system that has been perfectly regulated by us to give them all what they wanted and now we’re gone.”
Her eyes widened as she realized the logical conclusion. “It’s going to be like the old days! Like in the movies with gangs at war trying to get the best dr
ugs. The cops on a chase. People dying with needles in their arms. It will be chaos.”
“Keep going. Think what happens when most of those inner city hospitals no longer get those mysterious donations?”
The smile that crossed her face gave me chills. “You’re evil, Mr. Callahan.”
“I’m just getting started, Ivy,” I told her, the plan in my head coming together. “Everyone needs to remember their roles. This city. Those who hurt you. The Finnegan brothers. Wyatt—”
“Wyatt?” Her eyes widened. “What do you plan to do to your brother?”
“How much do you want to know?”
“Everything,” she said, staring deep into my eyes. “Tell me everything. You promised not to use me without my permission.”
I placed my hand on her cheek, stroking softly. “Once you get into my mind, Ivy, there is no escaping.”
“I know.”
I smirked…then I told her.
My family revolutionized organized crime. We created a balance. We made them need us, and they became so comfortable they forgot what it was like without us…what a bunch of ungrateful little bastards. I wondered if this was what God thought about the Israelites.
If so they were going to need to repent.
To repent they must be sorry.
To be sorry they must feel pain.
So let there be pain.
TWENTY-ONE
“My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them.”
~ Jack Kerouac
TWO DAYS LATER
ETHAN
I saw the car slow next to me as I ran down the street.
I knew who it was. How could I not when he’d called almost three dozen times in the last two days?
He apparently didn’t get it.
Running faster, I missed my turn toward the house, running instead around the block once more, the wind pushing through to me, filling my lungs with the air that smelled like coffee and bagels. My heart pounded against my chest, out of synch with the sounds around me: people rising from their beds, throwing out the trash, talking on their phones. I preferred swimming for this reason. I didn’t want to hear anyone. I didn’t want to smell anything. I sure as hell didn’t want the goddamn mayor tailing me.
Stopping, I took another deep breath, checking my watch before walking into the local corner deli. The old man behind the counter glanced up from his tablet, tilting his head down to look over his small framed glasses. Realizing it was me, he nodded and picked up his tablet, heading toward the back.
“Kitty, you know where the damn newspaper app is on this thing?” he yelled out as he went. A few seconds later power lights beside the camera switched from green to red.
Grabbing a basket, I went to the fridge with the milk in it. No sooner did I move that the bell chimed behind me.
“Two percent or whole?” I asked him, staring at the milks.
“Wife usually says two, but I’m a whole kind of man,” his deep voice said, and I reached for the two.
“Can’t be going against the wives, now can we, Takahashi?” I looked at the gray-haired man who stood beside me with dark eyes, almost eye level with me. “How is Kyoko?”
“Good. She’s taken up pottery,” he said.
“Pottery,” I repeated, moving to see the cereals and he, of course, followed. “Interesting hobby.”
“It’s the only thing that relaxes her now…now that…”
“Your son has died.” I finished for him, taking the cornflakes and placing it in the basket. “Well, that’s good for her.”
“She took up arts. I took up the job of protecting the people of Boston. To make sure no one else would lose their child to drugs—”
“Spare me the speech, Mayor,” I cut him off, looking between the chicken and chunky tomato soups. “I already voted for you…I mean, I got the votes for you. Chunky tomato or chicken?”
He didn’t reply or even bother looking at the cans.
“To hell with it. I’ll live a little and get them both,” I answered, throwing them into the basket also.
“And in return for that vote I’ve made sure your business has run smoothly in and out of the city,” he shot back. I paused in the middle of the aisle. “However, whatever is going on is starting to cause the bodies to pile up far too quickly.”
“Mayor.” I did my best to keep calm. “You were brought into the fold to spread the usual bullshit, not for you to start eating it too.”
“This new drug, Ethan, it—”
“IT IS MR. CALLAHAN!” I snapped, turning back to him. “Everyone has forgotten their place, Mayor, and I will take the blame for that. I’ve allowed you all to take credit for my achievements, my family’s achievements, for so long you’ve all begun to believe they are yours. Before me you were nothing but a detective, so in debt you would roll over and play dead for a few grand, with an unfaithful manic-depressive wife and a junkie for a son. I picked you out of the gutter, I dusted you off, I gave you that shiny pedestal you now stand so proudly on. You didn’t allow my business to do anything, it supersedes you! Whatever happens here, you are to do as you are told—”
“I will not let people die—”
Dropping the cart, I grabbed him by the neck, shoving him up against the glass doors and squeezing.
“Never interrupt me, Mr. Takahashi. I’m up to my neck in disrespect and I won’t take it from you too. You will go back to your office, you will sit in that nice big chair of yours, you will remember who bought you that chair, and you will wait as patiently as I am being with you until you get your orders. Am I being clear?” I squeezed tighter, forcing his chin up. “Am. I. Being. Clear?”
“Y...es…”
Letting go, he coughed and gasped for air, bending to the side as I moved back to my cart. “People like your son will always die. You didn’t lose your child to drugs. Yoshiro lost to himself. People like you always come around, always saying they will clean up the cities and will choke the drug supply, forgetting that it is the very same people in those cities who are letting the filth get in. Why?” I asked, bending down to reach for the jelly. “Because they cannot cope. Whether the pain is physical or mental it doesn’t matter. They want to escape so badly they’ll take anything. You cannot stop drugs from coming in until you stop the pain. And pain never stops. I thought you understood that. I thought you understood that we supply the safest poison and therefore respected your role. But I thought wrong. You, too, think that the evil begins and ends with the Callahans. So watch well and see how this city, the city I gave you, changes when I’m not the gatekeeper.”
I walked to the front counter, placing my basket on the counter and ringing the bell. I turned back when I heard him walking toward the door, adjusting his neck tie. “When this is over I just might have to get a ring so you can kneel down to kiss it out of gratitude.”
Pushing the door open, he said, “Have a good day, Mr. Callahan.”
“I always do.”
He turned back to me once more before getting inside the town car, the black door closing behind him.
“The moment I heard you were in town I sent Kitty and the girls to my sister’s in Florida.”
“You mean she’s not in the back helping you find the newspaper app?” I replied, turning back around to him as he shuffled in behind the back of the counter.
“Thankfully not. I told them, look, if the Ceann na Conairte is coming here himself, that means some people are going to lose their heads, and I don’t need them in the crosshairs. No, sir.” He chuckled, ringing up the items in the basket. “It’s $41.97.”
“$41.97? You’re killing me, McNardy.”
“Girls, three of them, Callahan, do you know how much tuition costs nowadays? And of course they all got to go to the expensive ones.” He groaned, lifting a thick purse and placing it on the table, sliding it to me.
“I think you mean Ivy League,” I said, opening it to count the cash quickly before pulling out a few twenties a
nd placing them on the counter.
“I mean bloody expensive. Couldn’t one of them have the decency to only care about makeup and boys like everyone else?” he grumbled, giving me change, and I just threw it back into the purse, sliding it back to him.
“Keep it and anything else trickling. Spread it among the boys too. Things will be slow for a while. I’m sure it will help with your girls too.”
He smiled like he’d been resurrected from the dead. “You’re too kind, Callahan.”
“Aren’t I!” I agreed, moving to the doors. “If everyone thought like you I would still be in Chicago, blissfully ignorant to the ridiculously high cost of jelly.”
“I got it from the Amish. Everyone loves that stuff. Can’t get it anywhere but McNardy’s.”
“I’ll let you know, then, if it was worth it.” I stepped back into the light breeze, tossing the bag over my shoulder as I walked back.
IVY
“Oh my God, what is this?” I said, taking a bite of the bagel in front of me, reaching over to get more of the jelly.
“Amish gold, apparently,” he replied, reading through the messages on his phone, lying almost naked, nothing but a towel around his waist, beside me on the bed. He’d come in with breakfast for me before taking a quick shower only a few minutes ago. “Give me some.”
He titled his head to me, and I broke off a piece of the bagel to put in his mouth. Watching as he chewed, I waited for a reaction, but all he did was nod. “Good, but still not worth the price.”
“Shh.” I gasped, putting my hands over the jelly. “It will hear you.”
He finally glanced up at me and then at my hands before snickering. He tossed his phone on the bedside table, sitting up, and grabbed the knife to spread the jelly onto my lips before licking them off with his tongue.
“Now it’s too good for me,” he whispered. His lips, however, hovered over mine as his fingers brought down the small strap of my nightgown until it no longer covered my right breast. Taking the knife and the jelly, he smeared it over my nipple, causing me to jump slightly when the blade touched my skin. Dropping the knife back on the tray, he grabbed my breast tightly, squeezing it before his head dropped down and licked the jelly from my nipple. My mouth parted as I took hold of his hair, closing my eyes, leaning in more to him as he kissed and sucked and bit my nipple and breast.