“Shamus just shot himself?” Melody asked, eyeing him. “In the woods?”
“I feel as though you are implying something. Which is odd because you’ve always been so direct.” He glared at her.
Melody crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap. “Fine, then let me be direct; did you kill Shamus?”
“No, but I planned on it. Just like the bastard to go and ruin that for me as well.” He frowned, still colder than ice.
This was the father that taught me everything I needed to know growing up.
“The Shamus I knew loved himself way too much to take his own life,” Declan added.
“We all fear something no matter how much we try to deny it,” he replied, moving to look out the window. “I can only guess it has something to do with Melody’s mother.”
“I do not have a mother,” Melody said quickly.
“Either way, Shamus’ last words were ‘You have no idea what you did when you arranged for their marriage. There are rules even we have to follow.’ So whoever that woman is, he was afraid enough to take his own life because of her.”
“None of this makes any fucking sense,” Neal groaned, rubbing his temple. “I mean I can’t be the only one totally confused.”
He wasn’t, and the fact that I was now as clueless as my brother pissed me off to no end.
“Enough is enough,” I snapped. “We’ve been behind this for far too long. I want answers. I want them yesterday. Who the hell is this woman? What does she want with our family?”
Melody sat up and turned to my father. “Shamus did two things when he got here: he insulted us, and he said you should have married Catherine Briar.”
“I’ve checked over that Briar family,” Declan replied. “They’re nothing but a small bunch of Irish thugs. They have a few dealings with ecstasy and other second rate drugs, but they can’t even hold a flame to us.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I said, looking Melody in the eye. Was she thinking what I was thinking? “If Shamus wasted his breath on it, then it has to be important. We need to get to the Briars so that we can piece together whatever the hell is going on.”
“Only problem is, after you threw Natasha into the nut house, her family went into hiding. No one has seen them,” Neal said.
“Then do your fucking job and find them!” Melody and I yelled together.
Declan shook his head but rose along with Neal, heading to the door. It was only after they’d left that I turned to my father. “Were you really going to kill him?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
He didn’t reply, he just looked out the window. “You both have a mystery to solve and I have a parent to bury.”
“You’re really going bury that bastard?”
“Rule forty-four,” he replied before walking out the door.
Melody looked to me, eyebrow raised and questioning me.
“Rule forty-four: Family is family, even when you wish they weren’t,” I explained.
She laughed as she moved beside me. “If this has anything to do with my family as well, I’m going to look into it.”
“Everyone in your family is dead.”
“Rule 171.” She smirked, and I stared at her in confusion.
“Care to share?”
She grinned, kissing my cheek. “Rule 171: even the men are family.”
I smiled. “You just made that up.”
“That doesn’t make it any less of a great rule.”
True.
“I have a bad feeling about this. All of this,” I told her.
“So do I.”
Just as I had suspected, something was coming out of Hell and straight towards us. And it was coming fast.
TEN
“I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.”
—Jennifer Estep
FEDEL
Some people think you’d have to be a real messed up son of a bitch to live the life I do. I see them walking around with their heads held up high, talking on their cell phones, pretending to be good people. But the truth is, they’re not. Truly good people, which are very hard to find, don’t think they’re good people. They believe that they’re doing what anyone else would do. The truth is, ninety percent of us are hiding from the world and our true selves. We force ourselves to do the “right” thing because we’re afraid of the consequences of doing what we really want to do.
I used to be one of those people. I used to lie to myself too. I knew what my father—Gino the One-Eye—did for a living. I only saw him on holidays, and on my birthday, but I knew I didn’t want to be like him. Every time my mother washed the blood out of his shirts, I felt my disgust build. I didn’t want to be like him, I didn’t want his life, and I didn’t want to spend my time kissing people’s shoes.
And then he came back in a wheelchair and told me I was going to go work for the devil himself. Gino’s loyalty to Orlando knew no bounds, and I guess Orlando liked the old man. So when Gino lost his legs, Orlando allowed him a way out of the life and to prove his gratitude, and Gino gave me up; I would work in his place, that way no one would ever think he would become a rat. A man could rat on his boss, but a true man could never rat out his only son.
I hated him for it. I tried to run. I packed all my shit in a bag, jumped out the window and ran down the street, only to find Orlando’s daughter leaning against a beat up old Chevy.
“I told my dad you were going to run.” She said, as the wall of muscle I grew to know as Antonio opened the door for her and myself. The look in his eyes as he held the door open, and his visible gun, told me I didn’t have any choice in the matter.
Melody didn’t speak to me. Instead she sat back, flipping through an Irish-to-English dictionary. I tried getting them to talk, I called them every name in the book, but Melody’s only response was to take out a knife and drive its blade deep into the dashboard. That shut me up quick.
As we pulled up to their mansion, she laid down the law. “Your loyalty is to my father and me for the rest of your life,” she said. “You will kill for us, you will fight for us, and you will lie for us. In return, you will not only be a very wealthy man, but you will be much safer than you would be without us. Your father has pissed off a lot of people, all of whom would kill you just to get back at him. Run again, and Antonio will put a bullet in the back of your skull. Goodnight.” And with that, she got out of the car and walked into her house, leaving me completely stumped.
“How old is she?” I asked Antonio.
“Fourteen,” he said, as he shook his head, a thin smile playing on his lips. “The boss wanted to put her in high school, but was afraid she would eat the other students.” He laughed. “Come on, time to show the new dog his cage. Wouldn’t want to kill you so soon. She ain’t joking about the rules.”
No, she wasn’t. Over the years I spent there, I grew to understand my place. I grew more loyal to her. I wasn’t sure why. She just had a way of getting into your head and staying there. She worked ten times harder than the rest of us, and never asked for anything in return. She just worked…more than any girl her age should. You wanted to make her life easier. You wanted to do anything she needed. And by doing almost nothing but being cold, calculating and murderous, she had gained our loyalty. She was the reason I was making this call now.
“Gino,” I said into the phone.
“Fedel? Why…”
“I don’t have time, Pop. I have one question and I need you to answer it as honestly as possible.” I could feel her gaze on the back of my neck.
“I cannot lie,” he lied into the phone.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “What do you know about Aviela, Orlando’s ex-wife?”
“Aviela? Why are you asking? That woman has been dead for years,” he replied, lying to me again.
Damn it, Pop.
“Do you know anything?” I asked again.
“No son, I don’t.”
With that, I hung up.
&n
bsp; I was going to have to do this the hard way.
“Well?” she asked, seated behind me as Antonio pulled up at the looney bin. She never spoke unless she had to.
I met her brown eyes in the rear-view mirror.
“He’s lying, ma’am. He knows something,” I told her honestly, and I watched her as she stared at me.
“Can I trust you to do what’s needed?” she asked.
“Yes.” Because I was loyal; the ranking of my life was Melody, Liam, God, then family. It was fucked up, but that was just part of life.
MELODY
Was my request of Fedel too much? Would he really do everything he needed to do to get the job done? Time would only tell, and right now, I had bigger fish to fry. As I walked up the stairs and into the stone structure—which looked like it belonged in a Stephen King novel—rats ran freely into building.
“Mrs. Callahan, I was so happ…”
“I want Natasha Briar, you can kiss my ass later,” I told the short doctor, who looked like he needed to be a patient himself.
“You can wait out here.”
“Take me to her.” I leaned into his face. “Now.”
He jumped, and the nurses behind him stood back as he opened the door for me. I could feel Antonio walking beside me. The moment the doors opened, all I could hear was gibberish mixed in with different levels of screaming. It was madhouse, that was for sure. The women were all frizzy-haired and pale faced, and they seemed to be in their own worlds. Some sat in the corner shaking, while others played with their hands or talked to themselves.
“Shoes!” A woman yelled suddenly, trying to reach for me. Antonio grabbed her, though I doubt she noticed. “Shoes! Me want shoes! Red Shoes! Me want red shoes!”
“What good are shoes with no feet?” I warned her, just as the doctor told the two nurses to take her away.
“I dated a chick like her once.” Antonio stated. “Actually, I think that may very well have been her.”
“I’m sorry about that, Mrs. Callahan,” said the doctor. “I try to let them out of their rooms so they can socialize and so they don’t feel like caged animals. Believe me, you are perfectly…”
“Are you trying to sell me something, Doctor?” I asked.
“No ma’am…”
“Then stop wasting my time,” I hissed through my teeth, causing him to drop his keys. He grabbed them quickly before rushing down the hall.
Her “room,” which looked more like a cell, was the last door on the left. Through the small window, I could see that her blonde hair was all over the floor as she sat in the corner. Every time she brushed a lock back, it seemed to fall off, making her sob… it kind of reminded me of Orlando.
“Ms. Briar, Mrs. Callahan is here to see you.” The moment he said it was me, she was up and pushing herself further into the wall.
“No. No. No. Please, no. NO!” she screamed before she started crying.
The doctor turned for the nurses, but that wouldn’t help.
“Open the door,” I demanded. Before he could argue, Antonio took the keys and opened the door himself.
“NO! PLEASE NO!” Natasha begged, curling into a ball.
“‘No. No. No.’ Oh shut up,” I snapped, pulling her from the ground. Her eyes were wide, and she was covered in dirt and dried blood—from only God knows what or where. She looked like a complete savage, and she sure as hell smelled like one.
“It’s your lucky day. I’ve come to save you.”
“No,” she said again. “You don’t know how to save. God saves. The devil destroys.”
“Good thing I’m neither. But I can do both. Now, do you want to leave or would you rather stay here with the good doctor?” I didn’t give her time to think before pushing her to Antonio.
“You can’t just take her!” The doctor yelled as we walked out.
“Who’s going to stop me?” I called out as I walked away. “Watch out, doctor. I like destroying things way more than I do saving them.”
The moment we stepped out, Neal and Monte pulled up in the car behind Fedel. Walking up to her, Monte pressed the needle into her arm.
“What are you doing? Stop, please stop,” Natasha cried, forcing me to take a deep breath.
“We’re clearing your system of any drugs you may have been given. So stop struggling,” I replied, waiting for Monte to finish as Fedel held open the door for us.
Neal handed me the burger and milkshake before helping Natasha into the car. It was only when she was seated that I stepped inside and handed her the food. She eyed it before glaring up at me.
“I wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble just to poison you.” I leaned against the seat, texting Liam to let him know we were on our way back. With Antonio driving, we would be there in two hours.
She didn’t speak. Instead, she stuffed her face as quickly and savagely as possible. Licking her hands and lips, Fedel turned to her, which caused her to slow down and freeze.
“Do you need something, Fedel?” I glared at him, forcing him to meet my gaze.
“No, ma’am,” he said, turning around once more.
I handed her a tissue and she slowed down, but she still continued eating at a steady pace, all while watching me carefully.
“If you don’t want to kill me, what do you want?” she asked. She sounded so tired, as though she hadn’t slept in years.
At least she hasn’t lost her mind yet.
“Just eat and rest. We can talk about that later. I promise I won’t hurt you.” She was the only piece of the puzzle we had.
She glared and it almost made her look like the old Natasha…almost.
“I’ve already hurt myself. So whatever it is—”
“Natasha,” I cut her off. “I don’t care about your pain. I don’t care about your suffering. I warned you and you didn’t make the right choice. You chose your fate and lost. But now you’ve become useful again, and you have a second chance. Don’t fuck it up, Natasha. Be smart.”
She stared at me again, making her look like a deer caught in headlights, before she dropped her head and finished her meal.
Placing my sunglasses back on, I tried to calm the raging headache that had been on and off for the last week. My head felt as though it was going to explode. No matter how much either Liam or I tried to piece together the mystery of our lives, we both came up empty handed. All of Shamus’ records had been whipped clean. There were no traces that he even had records to begin with. Every last cent of his wealth was gone as well. There was no way that that much money could be just wiped from the system without any trace. Even if it were in a private offshore account, there would still be a trace.
Someone had all but erased Shamus from history. Most things that included his name were either gone or unimportant. I didn’t like this. I felt like we were in the middle of some sort of spy novel. This was the mafia. I didn’t have time to be chasing down secrets or trying to find the key to the past. We had a drug shipment coming in this morning and instead of checking it out with Liam, I was here, in a car with Natasha.
“Ma’am, your phone,” Fedel called, pulling me away from my train of thought.
My phone was ringing.
“Well?” I asked into the receiver.
“Hello, love. How are you today? Did you miss me? Those are the questions I would like hear when you answer the phone.” Liam said.
“Liam, I don’t…” I stopped, not because I wanted to, but because the phone was no longer in my hand, and I was no longer in my seat…and the car was no longer on the road… In that moment, everything was in the air.
The glass shattered. Metal sheared against metal, ripping part of the car off as we rolled. Natasha screamed, or it looked like she was screaming, but I was deaf to it all. It felt like hours—years, maybe—when the car finally stopped. I was too dazed to move for a moment. I just sat there, hanging upside down, staring at the blood that dripped down Fedel’s arm.
Was he dead?
“What happened?” Anto
nio yelled, trying to pull on his seat belt. “What the…what just happened?”
It was then that I noticed the large piece of glass in his arm. He was losing blood—a lot of blood—and he was panicking.
“Antonio, breathe.” He wasn’t listening to me. “Antonio! Listen to me right now.”
Pulling off my seatbelt, I fell straight to the top of the car. Natasha lay there, knocked out, but still breathing. Crawling forward, I pulled my knife from my thigh, and reached up to cut his seat belt.
“Are you alive in there, sweetheart?” Someone called, and I froze. Antonio looked me in the eye before taking the knife from my hands.
“Mel bear? I’m going to be really disappointed if you’re dead.”
Aviela.
I fought back the memories; ones of me in her arms as she called me Mel bear. Grabbing a spear gun that had fallen, I tucked it into the back of my pants before I made a move to the window.
“Don’t go,” Fedel whispered. “Trap.”
“Help him when you’re stable, Antonio,” was all I could bring myself to say as I crawled on my stomach and hands, ignoring the shards of glass that cut into my skin.
I pulled myself out through the window, and onto the grass, only to find six guns pointed in my face, and my mother, white gloves and all, smiling down at me. She, unlike the rest of her men, looked as though she was going for lunch with the queen and not out for blood.
She looked so much like me. Her dark hair cropped at her shoulders with bright brown eyes staring back. Grabbing onto my arm, one of her men pulled me up, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neal crawling out of his mangled car, but I couldn’t see Monte anywhere.
“Despite the blood and mud, I have to say, I made one attractive kid.” Aviela smirked.
I spat at her feet and was slapped by one of her men. I felt the blood pool at the side of my mouth.
“So rude. Is this what your father taught you?” she asked, walking toward me.