WYATT
Why was I not moving?
What was I afraid of?
Was this even fear?
I didn’t know. I didn’t know why I was just standing outside his door. But that was what I was doing…standing. Gripping the bag in my hand tighter as I stared at the wooden door in front of me. My mind was blank, my feelings…I couldn’t feel. I was standing as if I were a toy solider positioned there.
This is insane.
Sighing, I moved to knock but stopped…remembering he wouldn’t be able to answer. I simply grabbed the handle, turned it to the right, and stepped inside, expecting him to still be in his bed in the center of the massive room.
But he wasn’t there.
“Ethan?” I called out to him. No answer. My feelings suddenly returned; all I could feel was panic. “ETHAN!”
Dropping my bag, I rushed to check the bathroom.
He wasn’t there.
Then his closet.
He wasn’t there.
I checked everywhere, even over the balcony, before finally reaching for the phone, dialing his cell. I heard it ring, just not on my side of the phone…but from the one place I’d stupidly forgotten to check.
Ivy’s closet.
With the phone still held to my ear, I moved, pausing just like I’d done to get on the phone before sliding the door open—
BANG!
It happened so fast I couldn’t even move, jump, breathe. All I could do was stand there.
“Missed by an inch.” His voice was heavy. In Boston, a few of the doctors had a term for the last words of men who were dying alone…heavy voices. Heavy with pain. Heavy with regret. Heavy with rage…so heavy that when whoever was dying tried to speak, their voices couldn’t carry the weight of their feelings and just came out as numb, cold whispers.
I glanced to the right of me, seeing the very real bullet now lodged into the thick frame of the door, before looking to my brother, who sat at the end of Ivy’s closet. There were still shopping bags that hadn’t been hung. Everything brand new, untouched, never used...never would be used.
“Funny thing is, she said she wouldn’t be able to wear all of this,” he said bitterly, following my eyes before bringing a bottle of brandy to his lips and drinking. In his other hand was his gun. He brushed the side of his mouth as liquor spilled, and gripped the gun tighter.
“You shouldn’t drink—”
BANG!
He fired at the floor right before my foot, stopping me from walking forward.
“Give a me good reason not to kill you,” he said.
“I’m your brother—”
BANG!
“Fuck!” I hissed, reaching up to grab the tip of my ear, which had to be bright red from the gun burn. Inhaling deeply, I looked back to him as he took a swig. “I take that is no longer a good reason?”
To answer he put down his bottle and pointed his gun again.
“ETHAN! —”
BANG!
I couldn’t move, not because he hit me but because I had no idea where he was aiming and whether he’d miss or not because of his obvious mental break. So again, I just stood there, hoping he wasn’t yet that lost.
“Eleven years,” he said, pulling out the magazine of his gun. “That’s how long I alone was left to protect this family. I accepted that. I was first born. That is what I was supposed to do. That is what I was born to do.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out bullets that he slowly loaded into the magazine. “Twenty-six years, that’s how long I’ve been watching out for you. From the day you were born to the day he died, Father told me… ‘Look out for Wyatt.’ ‘Protect Wyatt.’ ‘Teach Wyatt.’ ‘Forgive Wyatt.” Wyatt. Wyatt. Wyatt. It was so bloody annoying and odd. He never told me ‘look out for Donatella’ or ‘look out for your siblings.’ It was always look out for you, Wyatt. Now I realize it’s because Father knew, at the very least, that Donatella wasn’t going to be completely and utterly useless!”
“Ethan—”
BANG!
This time when he shot I dashed to the side into Ivy’s shoes, noticing he was pointing straight for my chest.
“For all Dona’s flaws, I never once doubted that she would do what she needed to do,” he said, twisting his gun to the side to look it over as he spoke. “Kill Toby? Stay loyal. No matter her own ambition…I knew she would because she is what I am…a Callahan, proudly, boldly, passionately a Callahan. As Callahans, she and I did what was good for this family. We did so over and over again with no regard to our own personal pain or sacrifice. We destroyed ourselves for this family. But you…” For a brief, second, I saw something I’d never seen in him…hate, hate toward me. His grip tightened, and I was sure if he pointed that gun at me he wouldn’t miss; I wouldn’t be able to escape. However, he blinked, his green eyes numb again. “You’ve always been selfish…. you’ve never once thought about those around you. It’s always about you. Now we are here because of you.”
“I can’t imagine how you feel—”
“But it’s not your fault?” He asked me, eyebrow raised. An evil smirk appeared on his lips as he said, “Your girlfriend in Boston, I had her killed.”
I knew it.
“You knew.” He replied as if he could read my mind. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. “You knew I had her killed, and I’m sure you knew why.”
Courtney, that was her name, and she was the most air-headed doctor I ever met. I knew she was the one spreading rumors about the Callahan family.
“They were harmless rumors,” I whispered. Just her claiming to go on family vacations and being part of the family with us.
“Everything becomes harmful when it is attached to us,” he replied. “She was on your arm, running her mouth about this family, claiming we were in places we weren’t, spending money on things that would make people raise eyebrows, and you did nothing. Why?”
“I...”
“You didn’t give a shit. You enjoyed fucking her, pretending to be like everyone else who’s useless. Ironically, they want to be us, all those useless people. You also knew she might get herself killed. But you didn’t care. You never care about anyone else but yourself—”
“Am I supposed to apologize for not killing my girlfriend?” I snapped, already done with this fucking lecture. “You want someone to blame your—”
The bottle flew right at my face, forcing me to duck quickly.
“I will blame you!” He hollered back. “Twenty-six years I have spent watching your back! Cleaning up your fucking messes! I couldn’t do my job because you couldn’t do yours. Every moment I spent on you was a moment taken away from something else. It was a moment I could be blindsided. And I was! You came back, but you were so hurt about Dona and busy fucking maids, you still couldn’t have my back. You never have my back until everything goes to hell. I let myself get shot to bring you back home. My wife…we lost our child to get you back to WHERE YOU SHOULD HAVE ALREADY FUCKING BEEN! I made a mistake. Fucked up because of YOU. YOU, WYATT!” He gritted his teeth and clenched the gun even tighter as his eyes glazed over with tears he’d never let fall in front of me.
I couldn’t speak because I now knew why I couldn’t come inside his room…what I was feeling. It was guilt…shame. I was ashamed because deep down I knew. I knew I was practically…mostly to blame.
He was right. We all had our roles, and I was never interested in mine.
“Ethan…”
“You cremated my wife.” His voice dropped to a whisper again. “You drugged me and destroyed my wife’s body…Toby betrayed us, and even his body was treated with more respect. You panicked and just wanted the problem to go away. You didn’t want to deal with it. Just like you didn’t want to deal with Mom’s death, Father’s death…or any other issue in your life. You run. You always try to run…so you thought I would act like you. You didn’t want to deal with it, and so with no regard to anyone but yourself, you put her on cold slab and turned her to ash.” He laughed bitterly. “Oh…don’t worry, I’ll take blame for that one…I’ve always spoken about the family image. Of course you’d logically think it was better to spread a lie than let people believe I screwed up. Good job telling Greyson…everyone will know your version of events soon enough. Have I patted you on the head enough now? Will you get the fuck out of my face now, Wyatt?”
“I’ll stand beside you and find whoever—”
“Don’t care,” he said, and of all the things he’d said today, that was the most shocking.
“You’re not just going to let this—”
“Did you really think the two of us were just going to go off revenge hunting?” he asked, putting the gun down beside him and getting up off the floor. He reached for one of the shopping bags and took out the small one. “Why would I do that? Killing them isn’t going to bring her back, is it?”
He took out the diamond-studded watch and placed it in the watch display before picking up another box.
No. This wasn’t him. “Ethan, don’t you want to know who did this? Who dared to—”
“Why would I want to know that?” He glanced up from the box of shoes, walking over to me. “It will only serve to make me more upset. Either a nobody, someone not even worthy of whipping my ass, murdered my wife, got the better of me. Or I was so blind that I missed a threat large enough to endanger the people I cared about…making me an idiot. I dislike both options. So I don’t want to know, and you can show yourself out,” he stated, placing the beige heels on the shelf beside me.
“You have to make them pay—”
“You have no right to tell me what the fuck I have to do. You do what you think you should fucking do. Nothing has stopped you before. Now get the fuck out before I truly do murder you. The only reason you are alive isn’t because you’re my brother. It’s because I have invested twenty-six of twenty-eight years of my life watching out for you, sacrificing for you…and refuse to let all of my effort end up being ironically worth nothing. That is the good reason, that is the only reason, stopping me from breaking my promise to Father.”
I stood there for a moment before nodding, backing out. “I’m sorry—”
“You know what Father said about apologies.”
Accept them and then shove it back up their asses.
I walked out of his room like I had some out-of-body experience my mind hadn’t fully grasped yet. He was the one who had lost his wife, and I could see and hear his anger. But because I was, as he said, selfish, I couldn’t grasp how badly he was hurting over how gutted I currently felt.
“Wyatt?”
Blinking a few times, I saw Helen standing right across from me, her brown face bunched together as she tried to figure out what was happening…what had happened.
“Are you alrig—,” she paused mid-word, mid-step, when I lifted my hand, telling her not to come any closer. Her gaze widened when she looked at my hand. I didn’t know why until I looked and saw my own hand trembling.
“I’m fine.” I cut her off before she could even finish opening her mouth. “I wouldn’t recommend going to see him now, though. He’s a little…”
I didn’t finish. Instead, I offered her a forced smiled before walking back to my room. With each step, it felt like my mind was trying to split apart. My ears rang, and my vision blurred. When I made it into my bathroom, I turned on the faucet as fast as I could, just to splash the cold water on my face.
I stood there for a moment before looking to my own reflection. Water dripping from my nose, hunched over the sink, staring into my own brown eyes. The more I stared, the more annoyed I became.
“How much longer are you going to be such a little bitch?” The words came from my mouth, but all I could hear was my father’s voice.
Just like I’d done when I was sixteen, I balled my fist and swung forward, the glass fracturing under my fist. When I pulled back, blood coated the broken pieces and my hands. Inhaling through my nose, I squeezed my blood-covered fist, feeling the small shards of mirror cut and dig into my skin, before exhaling and rolling my neck out.
Reaching up, blood still covering my hand, I pulled down my tie. Again, I met my eyes in the mirror.
Enough of this. Forget this. Focus, Wyatt. Focus.
I cannot change the past.
I cannot know the future.
Right now, all I can do is work on this present moment.
What do I want in this present moment?
“Revenge,” I said softly at first and then once again more clearly, my eyes unshaken and undeterred, and determined. I felt it rise, my anger, my rage, my desire, everything was awake now. My mind was finally clear. I knew what I wanted. If Ethan wasn’t going to do it, I was. Ethan is not your concern. Ethan will take care of Ethan. Now, what do you want? What does this family need? I knew without hesitation. “Revenge. We need revenge. We need to make them pay, make them remember who we are. They will bleed for what they’ve done to us.”
They will remember who it is that sits at the center of the pyramid.
Taking out my phone, I dialed, and it barely rang before he answered. “Well, if it isn’t Wyatt Callahan. I’ve been meaning to call you.”
“But you didn’t,” I replied.
“It’s been—”
“Save your excuse. I couldn’t care less at the moment. Excuse me if I sound a little hostile. It’s been a very irritating morning…so I need you to call the chief and do something for me, McCoy. We’re not going to have a problem, will we?”
“As the commissioner’s duty is to help good citizens of Chicago, like yourself, I’m sure the chief would agree.”
“Beautiful.”
Now the war begins.
HELEN
I watched Wyatt walk down the hall, unable to forget the look in his eyes. He looked…like he did when his father died. Like some part of the machine in his mind had malfunctioned.
“Ethan?” I asked when I stepped inside his room. It was stupid to ignore Wyatt’s advice, especially after just seeing him, but I couldn’t walk away from them both. “Wyatt warned me not to come in here—”
“And yet you came anyway.” His voice was emotionless and low as he emerged from his closet dressed in dark jeans, a white shirt under his black leather jacket. Over his shoulder was a small duffle bag.
“Going somewhere?” I asked him.
“Vacation,” he replied, walking over to his bedside table.
“You don’t take vacations.”
“I do now.” He put his gun in the drawer, and took out his wallet. He checked inside for a moment before putting it in his back pocket.
No. This is good. He’s reacting normally. This is how normal people act when they’re hurt.
I nodded to myself and asked, “Do you need me to do anything for you?”
“You’re smart, Helen.”
I was confused by his words; they made me feel uneasy. I could only watch as he threw a picture frame into his bag before zipping it closed. As he walked toward me, the way he stared down at me made me feel small.
“W—what?”
“You are smart, which is why we have always worked well together. Be smart. Only stupid women die for men who don’t love them in return. Wyatt is going to disappoint you. Especially when he realizes what you’re really like…the real you,” he replied, walking around me and toward the door.
Just like that he was gone, and I realized why Wyatt’s hand was shaking…Ethan had mastered the art of gutting people with words.
WYATT
When faced with no other option, and unsure of what was right or wrong, all I could do was press on, ignoring the scrapes in my flesh, the aching in my feet, making a path where there was none.
I couldn’t remember where I heard that. Or who even said it. But it replayed in my mind as I waited in front of his door again. And when he stepped out, bag in hand, he glanced me over once before turning turn to walk to the elevator. Stepping in his way, his green eyes piercing into mine, I saw nothing.
I saw no anger, no rage. Nothing. He wasn’t there anymore. And once again I knew what I had to…I knew I’d have to do this alone. But he needed to at least know this.
“You leave, I will take over until you come back. Those who did this will kneel at your feet,” I told him. Silence greeted me. He just stared, no response. Hoping to get any reaction out of him, I said, “You can kill me after I do this for you, brother.”
He still didn’t react.
“Sir?”
I looked behind me toward the elevator. Greyson appeared, and upon seeing Ethan, he rushed forward like a five year old on Christmas morning. Greyson wasn’t just loyal. He was a fan. It was how I knew he’d spread anything I told him about Ethan.
“I came because—”
“Anything you need to say,” Ethan cut him off while walking toward the elevator, “say it to Wyatt. He’s in change now.”
“Yes, sir.” Greyson nodded, his eyebrows frowning together as he watched Ethan get on and say nothing else as the elevator doors closed.
He’s not going to do anything stupid. I reassured myself, and yet I still couldn’t but doubt…help but wonder…No. I wouldn’t. I needed to focus.
“What’s the plan?” Greyson asked, turning to face me.
He was so used to the hidden motive behind Ethan’s actions, it was only natural for his mind to go there. There was still a small part of me, a very small part of me, that wondered if maybe Ethan had some plan he wasn’t sharing, but who could have planned for this? The man I saw sitting in the closet…he was hurt…deeply. Certainly not that man.
And I was part of his pain. So I needed to be part of his joys, too.
I turned to Greyson, who stared back with the familiar mixture of doubt and annoyance I’d seen on the faces of many of our guards—as if to say who was I to tell them what to do. I was the Callahan who ran away. The prodigal son who’d done nothing for them. To me it felt like ages since I’d returned home…but in reality, it was only two weeks. And just like Ethan had said, I’d done nothing but worry about Dona during that time.
“Sir?” Greyson questioned, gaining my attention as Helen came out of Ethan’s room. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her jaw clenched at the sight of me. Before I could ask her what was wrong, what Ethan said, Greyson spoke up again.
“The plan?” he pressed on when our eyes met.
“The plan is do whatever the fuck I say.”
“You haven’t said anything,” he fired back again, showing me the difference between Ethan and I. Greyson wouldn’t dare to speak up in front of my brother.
“Get my fucking car.”
He nodded, making his way to leave. And Helen frowned as she asked, “The ruthlessness begins?”
“Yes.” It begins. I was going to remind every motherfucking, cunt-faced, two-bit ass-wipe what the fuck it means to mess with the mafia, seeing how they all bloody forgot. It’s going to take weeks to get the blood I’m going to spill off the streets of the godforsaken city… We are Callahans…apparently people forgot that.
Reaching out, I hugged her even if she was stiff before hugging back. “Forget what I said before. Call your parents. Call everyone. Tell them come home, okay.”
Her brown eyes widened she as she stared at me, “Even my brother—”
“Everyone, Helen,” I replied, putting my hand on her cheek. We had a lot of people to kill. When Ethan comes back, he’s not going to be fighting alone anymore.