The Untouchables (32 page)

She tried to drink, but her bottle was empty. Rearing her arm back, she prepared to throw it, but I took it from her before she could. Pulling her into my arms, I just held her. I wasn’t sure what to say, or how I could make her feel any better.

“You want to know the icing on the cake?” she whispered, leaning into me. “This church—the church down the block from the hospital—is named St. Margaret of Antioch. She was the saint of childbirth, pregnant women, and dying people…”

She drew in a sharp breath and it was as though someone had stabbed us both.

“You aren’t in this alone. It’s you and me. You and I have cancer.
We
have cancer. And I swear to you I will never leave your side, but I need you to fight this. I need you to come back to the hospital,” I whispered, kissing the back of her head.

“I can’t. I can’t do the chemo. I can’t knowingly inject myself with poison, lose all my hair, let my bones become brittle, not to mention…I can’t, Declan. I just…”

“You can, because I can’t live without you. I can live without a kid—I truly can—but you…you are not up for debate. You stay for as long I stay, and I plan to live for a long,
long
time. So please, for the love of me, come back and let’s fight this bitch so we can get back to our lives.”

She is the most important thing to me. She is everything.

TWENTY-EIGHT

“Defense is our best attack.”

—Jay Weatherill

LIAM

“How much is this one boy costing us?” My father sighed, smoking like a steam engine while leaning against my ‘69 Mustang.

I readjusted my gloves. “$58,378.23. But I paid a flat sixty just to get it over with.”

God, I hate the cold.
But what could I expect from a winter in Chicago? The past few months had gone by painfully slow, and now, here we were, standing outside and freezing our nuts off for a kid.

“I could think of ten different things to do with sixty grand, and none of them revolved around smuggling a boy over the border.”

Sixty grand was like a grain of sand on a beach for us. He was just bored, so bored in fact, that the man had even taken up writing.

“You didn’t have to come, Father.”

“You are all out of brothers for the time being. I figured we could use the quality time now that you’re weeks away from becoming a father yourself.”

The biggest shit storm that had fallen upon us in the last couple of months was Coraline, and I could hardly blame her. She’d had a hysterectomy, and each day she looked at an enlarged Mel, she broke down. It was finally too much, and Declan took her back to the castle in Ireland. She still had months of recovery to go through, on top of another round of chemo. I would give them as much time as they needed. Declan wasn’t just my cousin, he was my brother, and Coraline was his heart. Neal and Olivia, on the other hand, were one step behind dropping off the face of the planet. After their exile, he and Olivia only spoke to me when they had to while on the campaign trail. I did have to give them credit, they were finally good at something: being sock-puppets. They smiled for the cameras and made us all look good. In a few weeks, they would be home, and I would need to speak with Neal, but for now, I needed to make sure that all the hatches were locked down.

That reason was exactly why we were currently parked right outside the city, waiting under the bridge for my package.

“Are you nervous?” my father asked, handing me his cigar. I waved him off; it wasn’t worth the hassle Mel would give me if I came home smelling of smoke. She was more than sensitive to it now.

“Nervous about what?”

“About your son. I understood why you and Mel didn’t want to talk about it while there was still a chance she could lose him. Your mother and I have tried to give you both some time to let it sink in, but, we’re both kind of shocked you haven’t had more worries. Neither of you have even mentioned a nursery, nor did Mel want a baby shower…”

“She didn’t want a baby shower because we both knew she would have snapped and killed every last one us.” I could just see her now, a baby rattle in her hand, hammering away at some poor schmuck’s skull. And that poor schmuck would have probably been me.

Mel and I had spoken about the baby; we spent most of our evenings talking about him. What we would name him, how we would handle our work and parenting. Mel didn’t open up well to people. It had taken two years of marriage for her to even truly be open with me. Going to my parents was not something I figured she could do just yet.

“I know you and Mom want to be included more,” I said, “but Mel’s just not good with being personal, you know this. She’s working on it and I can’t push her. We’re thinking of naming him Ethan Antonio Callahan.”

“Ethan?” He grinned, turning to face me.

“Yeah.” I grinned in return. “I wanted something Irish, and she told me to fuck off, that his last name was Irish enough. She kept reading off Italian names, I kept asking if it was a name of an appetizer or entrée. We went down a line of ‘E’ names and Ethan just popped out at us. Feel free to pass it on to Mother so she can start embroidering sweaters and monogramming silverware. Hopefully that will keep her off the baby shower thing.”

“About that…” he trailed off.

“
Please
tell me you didn’t. Please, for the love of God, don’t tell me Mother is going forward with it.” Pushing off the car, I turned to him.

He continued to smoke, trying his best to not meet my gaze.

“Are you kidding me? I’m doing all I motherfucking can to just make it through the next couple of weeks. She’s going to think this was me.”

“Aww, the poor Boss is afraid of his big, pregnant wife?” He laughed, throwing his cigar on the ground.

“Says the man who probably tried to talk his wife out of this and failed. And I’ll let her know you called her big.” As if he could stand up to his wife either. We were both fucked, and the moment I got the chance, I was throwing him under the bus.

“Your package is here.” He nodded towards the van driving through the small creek towards us.

Peering up at the bridge, I spotted the guns waiting as the older van pulled up right in front of us. I hated dealing with human traffickers; they sickened me. The shit we did was of each person’s own free will. We didn’t hold the needle to their veins or the powder to their noses. It was all on their own accord. Traffickers were sick and they deserved everything that was coming to them, but they still knew how to get a body. And I needed this kid.

The four men pulled the small boy out of the truck. Both his hands were bound, a blindfold over his eyes. The poor kid must have stood at my hip. He fought and struggled against the men, with tears rolling down his face. They held onto the collar of his torn, filth covered shirt.

“I told you he was not to be harmed and that he was to be informed of where you were taking him,” I said.

“He alive, ain’t he? Lucky too ‘cause we got another offer for him. It’s gonna cost you another ten. Or we’ll take him and walk.”

Why people chose to test my patience was beyond me. It was like they wanted me to repeatedly prove I was willing to beat the shit out of them. My father glanced at me with a sickening grin on his face that could have only been matched by mine. I nodded and he knew what this meant.

“Let the boy go and you get the money we settled on, along with your arms,” I said.

They smiled at each other before grabbing the boy again.

“No! No!
Déjame ir.
Let go!” The boy cried, trying to fight.

Sighing, I pulled at the stacks in my jacket and threw it at one of their chests.

“That’s the half I owe you,” I told them before throwing another ten towards him. “And that’s the ten. Now hand over my package.”

They were all enjoying the fact that they had just stiff-armed a Callahan. They dropped the boy like a sack of potatoes onto the ground. Walking over to him, I took off the blindfold and ropes.

“Who would have thought that the legendary Callahan had a thing for exotic young boys?” one of the men said. “We can make this a continuing business venture.”

“Hold on a second,” I said before looking down. “You are safe
. Estás a salvo
,” I whispered to the boy on the ground. His brown eyes were wide, shaken, and nothing but a reflecting pool of fear. I enjoyed the look on adults—on
men
—but for children who didn’t even have all their teeth, it pissed me off.

“I’m taking you to your mother,” I said. “I promise, take a seat in my car.” He looked at my father then back at me.

“You take me to my mama?”

“I promise.”

Nodding slowly, he took my hand and walked the three feet back to my car, my father simply opened the door for him and used his body to shield the window. Our eyes met right before I took off my jacket, throwing it on the hood and allowing them to see the two guns at my back. He simply pulled out another cigar, the man was always packing.

“What the fuck is this, Callahan?” They yelled, unleashing all their guns as two of my cars boxed us in. One by one, my men came out, guns all pointed at them.

“This, my friends, is what happens when you try to cheat me. When you insult me. Each one of my men is just itching to take your heads off. I would suggest you drop your weapons.”

Their dark eyes gazed over at the nine barrels pointed at their faces before letting gravity take hold of their guns; they dropped them at their feet, holding their hands up in surrender.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at the last man on the right, still holding my money in his hairy hands. Reaching out, the little man handed me all of it before heading back in line. Strolling over to my jacket, I dropped the money and started to whistle. I pulled out my knife and gun before turning back around.

“Strip,” I demanded.

“Fuck y—” Before he could finish, I threw my knife right into his nose. His body fell back as he suffocated on his own blood, desperately gasping for air, crying in pain until he couldn’t cry anymore.

The rest of them started to take their clothing off.

“I have no respect for you pigs, but I was willing to let that slide for business. Then you come to me, late, ungrateful, and disrespectful. It hurts me.” I sighed, loading six bullets into my revolver slowly. I enjoyed watching them panic while I did this. “And when I hurt, somebody else gotta feel my hurt. It’s what makes my world go ‘round.”

Smiling, I shot at the first man in the groin. He screamed so loud I’m sure he popped a vein in his neck.

“Do you feel the world spinning?” I grinned.

MELODY

I feel like an obese Jackie Kennedy.

I sighed, fixing the stupid red hat on my head right before Fedel and Monte opened the door for me.

The moment my foot crossed the line and the door shut behind me, I was in enemy territory, and I stuck out like a middle-aged man on spring break. Every badge turned towards me, some wide-eyed, others standing up straighter and fixing their ties. I felt like I was on display, but that was the point. That’s why I’d worn this polka-dot coat with the gloves and hat. I wanted every damn officer in this department to notice me as I stepped into their house.

“Can I help you, Mrs. Callahan?” A young, blonde officer asked, stepping up quickly.

“You know who I am?” I smiled.

“Everyone knows who you are, Ma’am. Your
husband’s
name is on just about everything ‘round here. May I help you with anything?” I didn’t like the way he referred to Liam, there was an edge at the back of his voice, but I wasn’t Mel right now. I had to be Melody Callahan, sweet wife to a fat cat Chicago millionaire. It had been a while since we had taken down the First Lady and everything had been quiet. Too fucking quiet. And with the election around the corner, I was making sure that there would be no more surprises this November; we were in the home stretch.

“Yes, Officer…”

“Officer Scooter.”

“Well Officer, I’m looking for a Ms. Morales. She was a maid in my house. I haven’t been able to reach her for some time and I’m quite worried.”

His whole body language changed. His arms went to his waist, and his expression, along with his jaw, hardened. “Well, Ma’am, there ain’t any need to be worried. Other than being jobless and without her son, she’s just fine. Due to the recent events with the President, we are keeping our witness under protection.”

Did this fucker just try to backhand me under-handedly?

“I only recently learned about her losing her job,” I said. “If you could please let her know she can have it back once this has all died down, I would be grateful.”
And I won’t slit your throat.

He frowned, looking me over carefully before glancing over to Fedel and Monte. “A lot of muscle you have there just to see a maid. I’m sure you people can find a new maid in a jiffy.”

“Who, them?” I pointed to Fedel and Monte. “My husband is so paranoid sometimes, and now that I’m pregnant, he’s just gone bonkers. Ms. Morales has been working for us for years. She’s been trying to bring her son over. When I heard my sister-in-law fired her, I felt horrible. She’s not only done so much for us, but now she’s stood against injustice, against the most powerful woman in the country. With that type of strength, I wish I could do more for her. I truly want to let her know that the Callahans are in her corner if she needs anything. You can do that, right officer? I’m not breaking some super-secret police code, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll have it passed along once she testifies tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Officer Scotty—”

“Scooter.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m horrible with new names. It’s pregnancy brain. Can you believe I’m almost eight months already? Well, I’ll be off. Thank you again.” Reaching out to take his hand, he smiled as he shook mine.

“You too, Mrs. Callahan. Congrats on the Senator’s win.”

“He hasn’t won yet. The election isn’t for another three weeks.” Or did he have a crystal ball up his ass?

He shrugged. “Everybody knows now that the First Lady is out of the picture, your man is about to become the leader of the free world. You Callahans always have the best luck. How do you all do it?”