DARCY
Whenever my father wanted to have one of those man-to-man talks with me, he took me to the garage, where there would always be something wrong with one of the cars, which he and I both needed to fix. Unfortunately for him, I blind-sided him with this news, so he didn’t have time to prepare a car.
“Dad—”
“Get in,” he said, nodding to his favorite black 1969 Ford Mustang. Rolling my eyes, I moved over to the passenger side. “No, you’re driving.”
He tossed the keys to me.
This is new. I thought but didn’t question him as I moved to the driver’s side. I got in, putting the key to the ignition.
BANG!
I couldn’t help but jump, frantically looking up to the windshield only to see the shattered impact of where his bullet met the glass…the bullet from where the impact would have gone right through my eye. He fired again and again, until the windshield was covered in nothing but cracks, making it almost impossible to see out of it. I couldn’t move…not until the windshield started to cave under the pressure of the tire iron in his other hand. The window held until he finally broke through, glass pouring onto the dashboard. Only when he could see my face did he stop. I opened the door, stepping out just as he shucked the tire iron across the garage. His hair disheveled, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm himself down.
“Why?” He finally turned back to ask me, his eyes hard, pissed. He looked ready to beat the living shit out of me. I glanced back over at the car…guessing that was the reason he beat the shit out of his car instead.
“I’m your son,” I answered back. “I know that. But for the last five years I haven’t felt that way.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “What does that mean? Why wouldn’t you feel like my son? If you know you are.”
“Because you stopped acting like it,” I replied, unbuttoning my shirt as I assessed the damage he’d done. “When I was younger, you were never easy on me. You made me learn how to fight. You pushed me. You made sure I always knew what was happening in the business and what I could do to be useful. And then Ethan told me to find something not related to the family to do…and all of a sudden, you stopped being my coach, and my mentor, and just became a fan. Do you realize over the last five years, most of all our conversations revolved around my games?”
When I glanced up, he was still watching me carefully, not saying anything. That meant he was going to let me speak my mind before tearing into what I said. “It was superficial. All of our conversations were superficial, and I started to feel like an outsider. While I could see you felt more and more relieved that I wasn’t part of the darker side of the family…the more relieved you were, the more pissed off I got. My whole entire life you fed me stories of how great this family was. The power behind being a Callahan, and then I was cut out from it…and you fucking cheered, Dad!”
“I was trying to fucking protect you!” he hollered back at me.
I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at that. “Bullshit. You were othering me. Do you how many times I’ve wondered if I wasn’t black, would you be so quick to expect me to accept that I wasn’t part of operating the family business.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Darcy? Have you lost your goddamn—”
“You were supposed to be the Ceann Na Conairte!” I hollered at him, and his eyes froze wide. “After your father, it was supposed to be you. But because he was murdered when you were young, Sedric stole it from you, and he stole it from me. Which is why we take orders from Ethan. If you didn’t want me to be a part of the business, then you should have claimed your birthright, but you didn’t! You let Uncle Liam take it. And I think part of you did that because of Mom. Yeah, we wanted the Italians on our side. Yeah, Uncle Liam was already expecting it, but deep down, I’m 100% sure you put up no fight because back then the Irish weren’t going to accept a Black woman as the wife to the head of the Irish. You took a knee and bottled up your own ambition for peace. So maybe you don’t think about it, but I do. I think about it all the time.”
“You think of being the Ceann Na Conairte?” he asked slowly.
Clenching my fist, I nodded. “Yes. I think about how, if my father had just fought, if he had been a little bit more selfish, a little bit more power hungry…I’d be Ethan. I wouldn’t of have had to play a fucking sport I didn’t like. I wouldn’t have idiots talking to me all motherfucking hours of the day. I wouldn’t have to pretend I’m fucking joking when I threaten people. I wouldn’t have to walk around like a goddamn sideshow!”
Impassioned, pissed even, I paused for the briefest moment. Just long enough to catch my breath before I continued unleashing my anger. “I wouldn’t have people talking behind my mother’s and sister’s backs because I’d kill them. I’m too fucking smart to be anyone’s goddamn entertainment. For five years I’ve felt like a monkey with ball. Powerless, crippled, a bloody joke, everything you taught me a Callahan should never motherfucking be!”
Taking off my shirt, I threw it on to the ground before picking up a crowbar and moving to take the shattered windshield off.
“There is nothing I can do to change the past now,” I said to him without bothering to look over at him. “And who the hell am I to fight Ethan for Ceann Na Conairte? But I am done being a fucking sideshow. People will learn to respect me, not because I’m your son but because I’m Darcy Callahan. There is just as much Irish blood in me as there is in Ethan and Wyatt. I am not different from them. I want the same things they want, and that’s power. And the one place they can’t break into, I can, so you can be damn sure there’s not a force on this bloody earth that’s going to stop me from taking over those gangs. Not even you.”
Yanking off the windshield, I glanced up. He wasn’t there.
“Wear gloves, you idiot,” he barked, now standing to my left, handing me a pair of work gloves before putting on his own. “Yes, your highness, I’m going to call you an idiot. Because only my idiot son would wait five years to come out as a power-hungry bastard like the rest of us.” The corner of his lips turned up as he fought a smile.
“I am what you made me,” I replied while fighting back a smile.
“True. Honestly, I made you into a halfway decent mechanic, too. I really loved this car.” He frowned, looking over his own destruction. “Look what having children does to a man…it’s so fucking stressful.”
“Is that why you’re graying so much?”
He glared down at me. “Would you like to die today?”
I laughed. “See you in hell then, Pops, cause we both know Mom will cut you to pieces. She loves me much more than you.”
“Bosses don’t rely on their moms—”
“Because their mothers are either dead or dying. My mother is alive and very good with knives—”
“Will you shut the fuck up, goddamn! Have a little respect, and let your old man threaten you a little bit, Jesus Christ.”
I laughed, I couldn’t help it.
And even as we began to focus on the car, I couldn’t help but sigh…in the back of my mind I saw it. I was finally out of the damn cage. I wasn’t going to be a side character in this family any more…I was moving to the main stage.
SEDRIC
“So what Darcy said, but replace Black with Asian,” I said to my father as I cleaned inside the chamber of my sniper riffle.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, turning off the camera for the garage before sitting across from me, lifting the pistol.
I chuckled at that as I looked up at him. “You want me to come to you and say, ‘Hey, Dad, I want to push drugs and be respected within the mafia for the rest of my life instead of playing baseball’?”
His jaw twisted to the side as he took the cloth from my hand. “I’m sure with that fancy and expensive education I gave you, you could have said it in a much more…elegant way.”
“Most likely.” I shrugged, picking up my scope and clicking it into place. “But this is much more fun, isn’t it?”
“Your mother isn’t going to be happy—”
“I already told Mom.”
“When?!” He looked genuinely shocked.
Rising from my chair, I grabbed my ball cap, placing it on my head. “The day I joined the MLB, I told her then, and you know what she said?”
He didn’t answer, and so I didn’t elaborate either. I tossed him his old riffle.
“Are you going to tell me or not?” he asked, rising up from the table, too.
Moving to the door of my bedroom, I turned back and answered, “She told me, and I quote, ‘Your father and I will look forward to that day.’”
He grinned shaking his head as he followed me out the room. “You’re supposed to talk to me about this stuff, not your mother.”
“Dad,” I said seriously,”that’s sexist.”
He smacked the back of my head. “Let’s go, I’m guessing you’ve been practicing, mama’s boy?”
“I prefer the term mastering.”
“I don’t give a shit what you prefer. Come on, let go shooting.” He marched on as if it was his idea.
“Slow down, old man, before you throw out your hip.”
“Fuck you!” he hollered, already heading to the back door. I grinned as I tossed the riffle over my shoulder.
Darcy and I couldn’t explain it. Why we had this burning desire for power, to be the strongest, to be joining this life. He’d actually done a better job of it than I did. All I could say was it was in my blood. Our blood. We were Callahans, there was something corrupted in us. And instead of fighting it, we needed to embrace it.
“Are you coming or not?” he bellowed at me.
“Relax, old man, the birds are still going to be there,” I hollered back and followed him…for the last time. Soon he’d need to follow me.
Their era was over…it was our time now.
“What?” he asked when he saw my face.
I paused, glancing around quickly before whispering, “I was just thinking about Ivy’s death—”
“The person who shot her was an expert.” He frowned as we got out into the upper deck behind the house, the rain still pouring down. “Clean shot through and through, she used a bullet that was small yet strong enough to not shatter the skull.”
“She?” I questioned, looking to him. “How do you know it was female who shot her?”
He paused, thinking to himself before smiling and reaching out to touch the rain. “I don’t. I was thinking of your Aunt Melody. It’s the type of shot I would have done.”
“The great Aunt Melody,” I replied, walking out into the rain and toward the stairs. “Either way, the shot was good. But that wasn’t what I was thinking.”
“It wasn’t?”
I shook my head as we walked, the rain beating down on us both.
“I was thinking…I’m glad she’s dead,” I said seriously, causing him to stare at me just as seriously but not speaking. I added, “If she was alive, Ethan would be still here. He’s like the sun. We all have to revolve around him. And as great as it is, sometimes the rain needs its glory, too.”
“What did we do to you children?” he replied with a smile on his lips.
“Made us into a better verison of you,” I reminded him.
They made us them, so we’d go on finishing what they started. They couldn’t blame us now. Everyone was born with a destiny in this family.
That was to get power and keep it.
DECLAN
“Call me back, okay? I love you.” Cora sighed, taking the earpiece out of her ear and tossing it on to her vanity counter before rubbing the side of her head.
Walking up behind her, I placed my hands on her shoulder and massaged gently as she leaned back into me. “She’s not answering my calls.”
“Did you expect her to?” I asked back softly. “She has a right to be upset. More than a right.”
She frowned, turning around to stare at me with those deep brown eyes of hers. “I know she has a right, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to worry about her even if it is my fault.”
“Our fault,” I replied. I took a seat beside her on her bench. “I’m not sure if we’ve been raising them or ruining them. Should I be proud that Helen knows right from wrong and chooses what most people would consider right? If I am, then how can I also be proud of Darcy for wanting to do what is wrong? I’m so bloody confused, Cora.”
She leaned over, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m pretty sure ruining your children is part of parenting...how else can they grow up and protect themselves from the world?”
“Brilliant.” I wrapped my arms around her as I snickered. “We’ve done a wonderful job then.”
She giggled but only before briefly sighing again. “Darcy’s retiring. Apparently, he hates basketball...did you know?”
“No,” I grimaced and shook my head. “He looked fine, happy. He said he was. I took him at his word and supported him. But I should have known better.”
“How?” She frowned, sitting up and forcing me to face her. “How in the world should we have known that?”
“He’s my son,” I said back to her. “He may look more like you, but since he was a baby, all I could see was this younger version of myself. Just like him, I was shy, liked to observe, and didn’t want to rock the boat. I told myself over and over just be happy with what I have. Yet deep down I was aching to....to be Liam. However, because he was like my brother, I pushed my ambition to the side and went along to get along. I was the good little solider. I accepted that long ago, but you should have heard Darcy. It was like being lectured by the part of me I let go of. He all but said I cheated him out of his inheritance…and I did! Because I was weak. Because I was so passive.... I altered both his destiny and my own.”
“Bullllllllshit,” she all but sang as she rose from the bench and took off her earrings.
“Excuse me?” I couldn’t help but grin, watching her gear up to lecture mode.
“Bullshit!” she repeated while undoing the side zipper of her pencil skirt. “If Darcy wanted something, he should have spoken up! Since the day he came into this world, you, his father, has moved heaven and earth for him, more than he will ever know. Cheated him? Ha! It’s easy for him to say that when he doesn’t know what the world really would have looked like had you taken over the family. I can tell you for damn sure, I wouldn’t have been your wife, and he wouldn’t be himself. And on top of that, whatever son you did have would have been forced to live under the constant threat of being murdered… well, more than they already are. Ethan’s wife just took a bullet to the head! Is anyone shooting at Darcy? No. Why? Because he’s not the boss. And because he’s not the boss, but still a Callahan, he’s free to do anything he damn well pleases, and I mean anything. The fact that it even took him this long to get to the point where he could speak his mind means he wouldn’t have been able to stand on his own when he was eighteen...the same year Ethan had to. And another thing, we are alive! His parents, both of us, are alive. Can Ethan say that? No. Why? Because his father and mother made the choice to stand in front. He is the man he is today because you have stood beside him—”
“Bravo!” I laughed, applauding her. “You tell him, baby.”
“I’m being serious.” She laughed back, taking off her shirt and throwing it at me.
It was as if she’d taken the weight off of my shoulders. Rising from the bench and walking over to her, I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I feel better.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel better. I was just telling you the truth,” she muttered while trying to wiggle out of my arms. “He should never complain about having a father like you, cause even with how much we’ve ruined them, there still isn’t a father better than you.”
“I’m sure Helen, when she calms down, will think the same of you,” I told her softly, and she paused.
“What if she never forgives us?”
It hurt to think that. The thought was so painful; I didn’t want to even entertain it. “No matter what, we’ll love her, and hopefully that will be enough.”
“I want her home,” she said, hugging me tighter. “I feel so damn old, Declan. Look at me, whining about our kids. I feel like those old ladies who still treat their children like infants.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but now that you mention it—ahh. Kidding, I’m kidding,” I said when she elbowed me and bowed out of my grasp.
Glaring, she walked toward our bathroom. “Well, don’t mind me. I’m going to take my old self to bathroom and soak these old bones in the bath by myself.”
“Baby,” I tried to follow, but she closed the door right in my face. “I love you!” I shouted through the door.
I waited. Then just like always, she opened it a crack, still glaring at me, but I could see the amusement in her eyes.
“You think the bath could hold two sets of old bones?” I questioned, leaning on the frame, unable to stop myself from smiling as I looked to her.
She didn’t open the door wider. Instead, she leaned on the frame with me. “You are infuriating, you know that?”
“What did I do now?”
“You make me feel like everything is alright, that everything will always be alright, when I want to be panicking about our children. We should be looking for Helen—”
I took my phone out and let her look at the map. “She took a drive to Rock State Park and then a walk before getting groceries and then headed back to her penthouse.”
“You don’t think you should have told me this when you first got in?” she asked, trying to take the phone from me, but I pulled it back, standing up straighter.
“Deny you the chance to vent? Never.” I grinned.
Her eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel like you’re calling me predictable?”
“That’s a very negative way to see it,” I stated as I slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“And how do you see it?” she asked, stepping back slightly, but never looking away from me.
“I see it as the product of thirty years of studying,” I replied, grabbing on to her hips before lifting her up. Her arms instantly wrapped around my neck. “I have a PhD in Coraline.”
“Oh, in that case, Doctor, please—”
My lips were on hers before she could even ask. She found me infuriating? The feeling was mutual. How was it that everywhere she wasn’t, was chaos…I felt as bad as she did when I came in, and yet the moment she began to speak, everything else melted away. How could I not feel like everything is alright, that everything will always be alright…I had her.
And that was all I needed. What I gave up, what I could I have been, what I could have had…none of it held a light to what I had with her.
Peace.
It wasn’t the measure of power that made a man, it was the measure to which he felt loved.