ETHAN
They all clapped as I stood before them, the camera flashes nearly blinding, and yet I was unfazed, far too used to this: speaking to other wealthy and/or important people, in a luxurious ball room, talking about how much we cared about this city, our beautiful Chicago, and all the ugly people who chose to live in it…myself included. Ugly because we all knew, what this city was built on, and we knew how hard it was to grow up here, how jaded it could make you. And yet we took pride in it.
“It is with great honor and privilege that I stand here before you all. Yesterday, TIME Magazine named me the most influential mogul of the decade, and because I am a Callahan I cannot humbly accept anything,” I said, causing a few of them to snicker.
“Especially when I know it’s not true. A decade ago I stood at the precipice of maturity, savoring the last few moments of freedom before responsibility dawned. Ever presently aware that the shoes I was to step in were impossible to fill for any human. The right foot, a size nine, four inch, white Prada heel with crystal embellishments just because…and the left foot, a size thirteen, custom Paul Costelloe Derby Shoe in leather and never suede because a man should always see his reflection when he looked down…”
Damn this speech. And I knew without a doubt who I had to thank for it.
“My parents revolutionized this city. My father reinvigorated the private sector, which is why, today, Chicago stands as the leading city in job creation. The policies my mother and her administration applied have made not just Chicago, but universities in all of Illinois, find ranking spots within the top five schools in the country, with over eighty-seven percent of its residents holding high school diplomas. A percentage so shocking that Peter McBurg, one of my mother’s greatest critics, wrote this morning: ‘my hometown of Chicago, which was once synonymous with names like Al Capone and the Mafia, has now become synonymous with Mark Zuckerberg and Silicon Valley. I’m not sure if I should weep or sing.’”
More ugliness…now that the city had improved we didn’t talk about that, we talked about the dark ages because they missed the chaos. The old Chicago. The irony of it all was almost too much to bear.
“We should honor the men and women here today, who worked relentlessly to push the vision of my parents long after they had passed and graciously allowed me to take all the credit for it. As their son and on the behalf of my whole family, I thank and applaud you all for your hard work and success.”
Stepping back, I clapped. One by one, they all got up from their seats, whistling and cheering loudly. My grandmother leaned in as I did, my arm around her shoulder for the cameras, her face pressed against mine, causing me to tense, though I was sure she didn’t notice.
“Donatella’s speeches are getting far too self-deprecating for my liking,” I whispered to her, hoping to distract her.
She smiled as we both turned to the cameras. “The girl has a gift. I almost cried.”
I smirked at that. My grandmother hadn’t cried since my father had died and nothing was changing that…she ate nails for breakfast just to keep her tongue sharp.
“Senator Forbes.” She stepped away toward the balding man walking toward us.
It was at that point I felt myself go on autopilot, standing beside her and making small talk I wouldn’t remember with people I could barely stand. Amused at how seamlessly I fit in with them…me, the man who said Chicago was rid of its beasts, while being the most beastly of them all. Amused because I could see it, the cracks in the elegance and nobility they’d all tried so hard to craft for themselves. Chicago was now home to the smartest people in the country…hell, the world…and the media praised us. Brutal, ruthless, Chicago now tamed. Ha. Tamed beasts were far scarier than wild ones…they knew exactly who they were killing and had the patience to wait. Yes, Chicago was still savage. It was just the arena of savagery that was changing.
“Mr. Callahan.” Toby nodded at me.
I fought the grin trying to spread across my lips, drinking the rest of my champagne to mask it.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please excuse me. No rest for us moguls, it seems.”
“You’re always escaping us, Mr. Callahan.” Senator Forbes pouted…it was ugly. “My daughter will be here any minute and she’ll kill me for letting you escape.”
“I’m sure I’ll meet her one of these days, Senator Forbes, and if she’s half as beautiful as your wife, I’m sure I won’t be able to miss her.”
“You are as good at lying as your damn father.” Senator Forbes laughed.
“Walter!” Senator Forbes’ wife scolded.
I kissed my grandmother’s cheek, whispering, “Call when you are tired of wasting time with these senseless idiots.”
“Of course, dear.” She smiled, not even a little bit fazed.
As I walked from her and toward the exit, Toby followed along with Grey and two other guards, the rest staying with my grandmother.
“What did you get out of this…Mr. Downey person?” I said once we got on the elevator.
“He still refuses to talk to anyone but you,” Toby replied, pushing the button.
“And here I thought you could be persuasive.”
“If I were any more persuasive he’d be dead.”
I didn’t reply because there was no need to once the doors opened. We walked through the gold and ivory lobby, not toward the front or even the back doors but through the restaurant. The whole place was packed, which I guessed I couldn’t complain about. More money for me. Once in the kitchen, the chefs and staff pretended not to see us as we walked to the back room. Naked and tied to the wall with an actual fish head stuffed into his mouth, was Mr. Downey.
“Welcome to Chicago, Mr. Downey. I hear you’ve been asking for me?”
IVY
There were many rules to surviving in a prison. The first, and the most important was keep all your holes shut. You didn’t see anything, you didn’t hear anything, and you sure as hell didn’t smell anything either. That was the easy part… What you had to do in order to keep the holes below the waist shut, now that was hard…often times dangerous. But I saw what happened to the girls who didn’t take that risk and I was not interested in being broken like them.
“Aww, aren’t you pretty? Wanna be friends?” Dallas, one of the bigger, newer female inmates, laughed like a wild hyena, grabbing another new girl’s chin. They had been processed together so I’m guessing that’s why she locked onto her so quickly. “Come on…it’ll be fun. Give me a little kiss.”
The girl tried to move from the cafeteria table, but Dallas grabbed her arm. I glanced over to the guards who, like always, pretended not to see anything.
It’s been thirty-seven days, they’re due for a reminder...but it’s mac and cheese day. I frowned back over at the golden dish that I could be happily eating, when Dallas’ voice reached me again.
“Believe you want to be my friend.” Dallas wasn’t looking at anyone else, which meant I’d catch her off guard. Thirty-seven days without an incident was pushing it, Ivy.
“Damn it!” I muttered then sighed stepping out of the lunch line bitterly. Walking over to their table and before Dallas could land her hot lips on the girl, I put my tray in between their faces.
“HEY!” Dallas smacked the tray.
“Leave her alone, Dallas. She’s just a kid.”
Dallas jumped onto the table, mostly because she needed to. Being four foot eight wasn’t going to even scare the cat in the yard, let alone me.
“What did you say to me?” she yelled at me.
“I said leave her alone—”
“Or you’ll do what, chica? Huh? You know who I am?”
I looked at the two other women…and I used that word sparingly…as they stepped up behind her. Rumor had it Dallas’ boyfriend was some real badass gangbanger on the streets. Good time to remember that one, Ivy.
“Yea, now you got nothing to say, do you, princess? You’re kinda cute. How’d you like to be my friend?”
The moment her short, stubby fingers pushed my head to the side, I grabbed her legs before she could blink and pulled her off the table, the back of her head hitting both the table and the seat. On the ground, I took my tray and shoved it into her mouth.
“Bitch!” One of the masculine two came at me, landing a kick right to my ribs, as I pulled the tray out of Dallas’ mouth and hit the chick’s eye, punching right into her throat and again into her nose.
“You…” A second one came at me, but I was so lucky she was as dumb as she looked because she tripped over one of Dallas’ shoes. When they came off I had no idea, but damn…old girl went down harder than a ton, her chin hitting the edge of the table…damn.
“You crazy ass—” Dallas jumped onto my back like a damn monkey, pulling my hair, so I did the only thing I could. I jumped and allowed myself to fall back right on top of her.
“Ahh…” she cried out, letting me go. Rolling off her for only a second before turning around, I punched my hands into her face, over and over and over again, until my knuckles hurt so badly I grabbed the tray on the floor beside me and shoved it right back between her lips.
“Dallas, you’re new here,” I said, blowing my blond hair out of my face before continuing on, “but people don’t call me princess. They call me Psycho Ivy. It’s not very creative, I’ll give you that, but it gets to the point. You touch me, you end up in Medway. You come at me the wrong way, you end up in Medway. You disturb my peace, you end up in Medway! We clear?”
She tried speaking against the tray, but I held it hard.
“I’m going to need a yes or no from you, Dallas, before the riot squad enters!”
“Uhghghs!” She struggled, but I pinned her down.
“What was that?”
“EVERYONE DOWN!” The cavalry came in with their damn black suits and everything. Letting go of her, I laid down on the ground with my hands over my head.
“You’re so fucking dead,” Dallas muttered to me. “You. Your whole family. Everybody gonna die.”
Turning my head to her, I smiled.
“I got no family, Dallas. I’m in here for a long time. So unless your boyfriend cuts off his dick, he ain’t touching me. And we both know he don’t have the balls for that.” When I leaned in she tried to lean in. “Should I write out instructions for him?”
“You’re sick in the head.”
“Yea, I told you that…a few times in solitary will do that to you.” I winked just as they zip tied my hands and feet like always.
“O’Davoren! I should have known!” Jimmy yelled as he lifted me up with some other guy.
“I want it noted I didn’t get to eat lunch, boys!” I yelled, relaxing. “And seriously, it doesn’t take two of you to pick me up.”
“SHUT UP, O’DAVOREN!”
“Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of a Dallas lass. Be alive, or be she dead, I’ll grind her bones to make my bread…hahaha! Dallas! Dallas!”
“That’s it! Shoot her up!” he yelled.
“No!” I screamed, struggling in their arms. “You can’t do that! No! No! Let go!”
They pinned me to something, rolling up my sleeves, and I tried to fight. Even knowing that it would do nothing, I tried to fight until I felt the heat of it as it entered my skin. It took a second until everything just became loose and I couldn’t even hold my body up anymore.
Before I knew it, I was back in the dark cell. They just dropped me…like I was trash. And because of that damn shot I couldn’t really move. It was the scariest thing in the world. To be in a dark room…and be completely paralyzed.
What little strength I did have I used it to watch the door.
Nothing had ever happened to me. But I heard the other girls.
And I knew it was only a matter of time…especially with that new one. But if he came I had something for him.
What good does it do if I can’t move?
Concentrate.
Breathe.
Calm yourself.
Concentrate.
Breathe.
Calm yourself.
“That’s…it.” I smiled when I felt my finger twitch.
I smiled. Though it was the most pathetic in smile the world. This is how I survived here. I wasn’t insane…well apparently that was debatable because not many of the other girls acted like me. But this was the only thing I knew how to do.
This wasn’t supposed to be my life.
Shaking my head clear, I did my best not to think like that. If I did, I’d get upset. If I got upset, I couldn’t think, and if I couldn’t think, I was as good as dead.
Act crazy. Act as if you aren’t capable of thinking logically. Insanity is your friend. Fight. That is how you survived. That’s how all the holes stayed closed. How you don’t break…
ETHAN
When they opened the door to the big fridge in the hotel kitchen, a couple floors below the ballroom where polices officers and politicians patted themselves on the back, a rush of frosted air blew across my face. There was a still naked Mr. Downey, hung from a crane, pale, purple and shivering.
“Help him down,” I said, leaning against the wall, enjoying the coolness of it. In order to ‘help’ the man they cut his ties, letting him fall down on his own.
“Mr. Downey…I’m not very fond of people who waste my time. So I do hope you have more to say to me now than you did ten minutes ago,” I said as he shook on the ground, his skin color slowly matching that of a smurf.
“I’ve always wanted to know, if you cut off a man’s hand when he’s going into hypothermia, will he bleed less? My brother is a doctor. You’d think I could ask him these things, but he’d get all pissy and accuse me of wanting to know for all the wrong reasons. Grey, please end my curiosity.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, holding on to a butcher knife.
“A butcher knife, Grey? Feeling nostalgic?” I asked him.
“Yes, sir,” he replied, pulling out Downey’s arm. “You know I never continued the family business, but put a knife in my hand and a butcher’s son is still a butcher’s son.”
“I’m sure your parents are proud. Go on—”
“No! Please! No! I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you,” Downey found the voice to beg.
“Well, get on with it then!” Grey hollered, the knife moving to the man’s throat.
“My name is Eamon Downey. I was sent by the Finnegan brothers.”
Pushing off the wall, I walked up to him. Kneeling in front of him, Grey released him and stepped back, leaving the butcher knife on the ground.
“I knew all of that already, Mr. Downey. I do not give a fuck about you or your name. My question was: what are they planning? Why did they send you?”
“Because…because…they wanted me to tell you, to lie and name some families that were turning on you.”
“When it’s really the Finnegan brothers who have betrayed me.” Did they really believe I’d allow them to determine who were my enemies and allies? Did I look like a dog?
“And—”
“And?”
Silence.
I grabbed the knife and brought it down onto his wrist. He screamed, trembling as he gripped onto his wrist in agony. “I’m glad you found your voice again, Mr. Downey. I’ll give you a second to compose yourself.”
“…s…sis…” He panted, weeping as the blood continued to flow from his wrist.
“Your second is up, now finish your speaking before I start to get violent…and believe me, you don’t want to see me violent.”
“They…he…they…”
“Mr. Downey.”
“Alliance.” He used all his strength to say.
“An alliance of what?” I asked calmly, spinning the knife in my hand.
“Your…your…sis—”
“Sister? They want my sister?”
“It’s all—that’s all I know,” he spoke quickly, his adrenaline pumping. Grabbing onto my arm with his good hand, he held on like a man on the edge. “I swear. I swear. Spare me! Please! Please!”
Reaching down, I peeled his bloody fingers off of me. “God forgives. The Pope forgives. I am neither God nor the Pope.”
“You can use me…I’ll do anything you ask! I’ll be a spy for you.”
“A spy that flips sides is not a spy, he’s a traitor. I have no use for traitors,” I told him, taking the butcher knife and hammering it down between his head and shoulders. His blood splattered onto my suit.
Rising to my feet, I held my arm out. “Where is Dona?” I asked.
“She just got on her flight. She’ll be here in the next hour,” Toby answered, placing the towel in my hand.
“Get her on the phone.”
Wiping my face and hands before dropping the towel over him, I undid my cufflinks and black tie before removing my shirt, throwing each one at Grey, who in return handed me a new replica pair.
“Got her, sir,” Toby said, handing me the ear piece.
“Dona.”
“You know, you really should give your speechwriter a raise. She’s absolutely brilliant.” Her smug came over loud and clear.
“Apparently I’ll have to, seeing as how she’s now flying commercial for some reason unbeknownst to me. What are you up to, baby sister?” I asked, buttoning up my shirt again.
Silence.
“Donatella.”
“Do not call my name like that. I’m your sister, not one of your minions.”
“I’m still waiting,” I replied as I placed the tie around my neck. I knew Dona would never do anything to betray me, but I also knew when she was hiding something.
“Why can’t we ever have normal brother-sister conversations? Like ‘Hey, Dona, how was Boston?’ ‘Oh, not bad, a little chilly for August, but hey, what can you do?’ ‘Yea. Chicago’s still as windy as ever. And I’m bored shitless. When are you getting back—’”
“How long do you plan on keeping this little one-person play going?”
“How long do you plan on treating me like a baby?”
“Until you’re older than me.” I smirked, hearing her suck her teeth, trying her best to keep from snapping at me. Instead, she chose to annoy me.
“Where did we pause the play? Oh, right, you miss me. ‘Well, don’t be bored, brother, I’ll be back before you can say—’”
I thought for a moment as to why she was fighting me so much. It wasn’t like her…and then I realized.
“You went for Wyatt.”
She didn’t reply.
“This is your last trip to Boston for a while.” I waited for her to get the last word, placing my jacket on as I walked toward the metal door.
“No matter what Wyatt’s done he’s still our brother.”
“I wasn’t the one who exiled him. He left on his own. He abandoned the family, his family, on his own. Therefore—”
“You cut him out...of everything.”
“I thought so and here you are.”
“I’m a Callahan! I go where I damn well please.” She snapped at me and for a second she sounded like our mother.
I could feel a headache.
“I’ll see you at home,” I said to her before hanging up as I stepped outside in the breeze so painfully cold today it felt as if it sliced through flesh.
“Sir.” My driver nodded at me, holding the door for me.
“Take the scenic route.”
Sliding into the backseat, I reached in the fold of the chair in front of me, lifting the tablet. No sooner did it scan my thumbprint than I saw the file.
The name IVY O’DAVOREN appeared first.
Flipping onto the next page, the very first thing I saw was a mug shot, what looked to be a pale skinned mop with wild blond hair all over the place. I could hardly see anything her chart described.
Name: Ivy O’Davoren
Charges: Aggravated Assault. Assault with a deadly weapon.
Sentence: Twelve years
Age: Twenty-Seven
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blond
Height: 5’11
Tattoos: None
None of that was as important as the next section. Her next of kin.
Stepmother: Shay O’Davoren
Stepsister: Rory Donoghue
Cousin(s): Cillian Finnegan, Elroy Finnegan
They say every great plan only needs 50 percent of thought, and the rest is a combination of skill, will, and luck.
Of all the places for the Finnegan brothers to have family, how lucky was I that it would be in my very own backyard? How lucky was I that it was her…
IVY
“Rise and shine—”
Sitting up off my bed, I backed up quickly as he walked towards my cell door.
His blue eyes sent chills up my spine. They weren’t like mine. Or even my father’s. They were dead eyes, like the color of fish eyes just after being caught. Shiny, slimy, unblinking, and unfeeling.
“Can I help you with something?” I sneered as he looked through the small window of the door.
“Everything all right, forty-four?” A voice came over his radio.
“All clear. Walking through—”
“Forty-four. Bring her up. She has 32-14.”
32-14?
“Body down now!” he yelled at me, and I did what he said. Placing my hands on my head, I heard the keys jingle before the heavy slab slid open. He patted me down, grabbing my breast tightly and then moving down my back. I bit my lip to try and stop from lashing out at him when he squeezed my ass…after all, us girls in solitary didn’t have the right to request for female guards.
“Clear,” he called out and zip ties were on my hands. Chains cuffed to my feet.
Ignoring as they pulled and pitched and fucking shoved me, I followed them out of my cell, hobbling because of the weight of the chains on me. The walk was the same as always, long, dark, boring, and smelly. Finally, we got to a room. Two guards opened the door, and there standing in a gray suit, was an older black man.
“Please unchain my client.”
“No can do, she’s in solitary. How she even managed to—”
“Unchain her or I’ll have to start inquiring about your prison’s overzealous use of solitary confinement, lack of female staff, and, just for the heck of it, each and every last one of you,” he ordered and the man cursed him under his breath, but he did as he asked.
“You seem like a good lawyer. Which means I definitely can’t afford you,” I said, taking a seat in front of him. “Are you sure you have the right person?”
“Ivy O’Davoren, born July 4th, sentenced to twenty-five years for motor vehicle theft, aggravated assault, and assault with a deadly weapon? Pretty freckled nose with blue eyes, Ivy O’Davoren.”
I smiled. “You made that last part up. I’m sure that wasn’t in my file.”
“It wasn’t, but it could be. In fact, if you want to, it could say Ivy O’Davoren, released for good behavior. Or have your conviction turned completely—”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kinda shady?”
He nodded. “Yes. So what will it be, ma’am?”
“Ma’am now?” I laughed. “No, seriously, who are you? Is this some sick new way to punish inmates? Draw them in here and tell them, surprise, you have a new lawyer, here’s your get-out-of-jail-free card.”
“Ms. O’Davoren, my name is Avery Barrow, and believe me, I know how shitty the Illinois State Correctional Facility can be. It’s one of the things in this state that refuses to bow to change.”
“So you’ve come to be fairy prison godfather?”
He snickered. “I’ve come on behalf of the Callahan family to make sure—”
“Wh…what?” I almost choked on air. “Who sent you?”
“The Callahan family.”
I laughed. I laughed so hard my stomach ached and my throat burned. I laughed like The Joker in the asylum because I was pretty sure that was where I was going to end up.
“The Callahan Family?” I repeated. “That nest of vipers and shit! Fuck the Callahan family! I’d rather spend the rest of eternity rotting in here being groped by the whole damn force than ever accept those people’s help.”
I spat to my left. “If they all drowned in their blood it wouldn’t be justice enough! Guards! I’m done here!”
“Ms. O’Davoren—”
“I’m not sure what those people have over you but really think of your own health before you come in here trying to sell me snake oil! Guards!” I yelled again, and they came in. This time much more willingly, I outstretched my arms to them.
Callahans…if I could kill them myself I would.