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Walking up to the glass, Declan just shook his head, as a smirk spread across his face.
“How’s Ethan?” It was the only thing I had been obsessing about.
“He’s fine. The infection is gone and now he’s back to leaving toxic bombs in his diaper,” he said, and I felt slightly lighter. “Oh, and by the way, I fucking hate you man.”
“Nice to see your pale face too,” I muttered into the phone.
“Only you could buff up and turn a profit while being in jail. I checked our funds, and for a second I was baffled. So again, I fucking hate you man.” He sat up on to edge of his seat grinning. His hair was a little shorter and darker but he still looked like the same old Declan.
“What else am I supposed to do with my time?”
He shrugged. “Well, I’m glad you aren’t coming home sickly and depressed. Seems like the world is going crazy without you running it.”
“How is the family business going?” With my luck, he and Neal had probably burned everything to the ground.
“Stable-ish.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means we’re walking on thin ice. For now, everything is fine. We go day by day. Everyone is a ticking time bomb.”
“And you?”
“That includes me.” He frowned and I wondered if he was holding back.
“I—”
“Mr. Callahan, you have a few more minutes,” the guard behind me said.
Turning to him, I raised an eyebrow causing him to just look away while his hands shook slightly.
“Jesus Christ, it’s like high school all over again,” Declan snickered, as he stared at the guard wide-eyed before returning his attention to me.
He was right though. “It’s exactly like high school. Take out the weak links, break the leader, and the next thing you know, your table is the popular one.”
“I’ll never forget that slide show you played during class that exposed everyone’s dirty little secrets.”
“I’m surprised you could see it through your emo hair,” I laughed at both him and at my twelve-year-old self. I thought I was so badass, but it was the best revenge I could think of short of actually hurting anyone.
“Ahh, God.” His hands went to his face. “I’d forgotten about my two years as a Cyclops. Dark times.”
“Mom hated your hair so much, she’d always try to brush it out of your face.”
“Yeah, I was half expecting her to sneak into my room and give me a haircut.”
I was sure the thought had crossed her mind.
“How’s the public reacting to this, or better yet, to me?” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, I needed some real sleep and I needed it soon.
“CNN poll says seventy-three percent of the public think you're guilty. On the other hand, Nancy Grace has you at eighty-eight percent and is calling all your past girls to testify on just how much of a controlling asshole you are. I say fuck them all. No fucking respect. I swear. After all we’ve done for this goddamn city.”
Or at least all the good things we’d done.
“What did you expect? This is Chicago. You can’t trust anyone with anything at anytime. This city and its people will eat you alive. If they didn’t, it wouldn’t really be the same.” Even with all the fuckery, it was still my home.
“There is also something going on, Liam. Evidence. Evidence that shouldn’t exist keeps finding its way into the police’s eager little hands. At first, without a body, I would say that this was a sad attempt, but someone is helping them out.”
He looked frustrated but I couldn’t tell him. Not yet, I had to be out and off government phones before I pointed a finger at the director of the FBI.
“The case is still weak,” was all I could say.
“Yeah, well it doesn't help that Natasha was found dead in a ditch.” The smile on his face made me want to punch through the glass and into his nose.
“Even from beyond the grave, she’s still pissing me off. She’s like a neverending nightmare. Coraline always told me to stay away from her.”
Something flashed in his eyes with just mention of her name.
“How is Coraline?” I asked slowly.
He smiled. “She’s good. She went through this phase of horrible wigs for a while. But the cancer is gone. She’s now the head of the Free Liam Campaign.”
“The Free Liam Campaign?” I was almost afraid of what that meant.
“Yes, it comes with cute baby pictures of Liam, along with pictures of you and Mel, all over Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. With stories of how great a person you are. Eighty-eight percent isn’t everyone. My wife is an organizer, what can I say?”
For the love of fuck.
“Tell her I said thanks, I guess.”
“Liam, about Mel.”
“Declan, don’t. She will be there.” I couldn’t have him doubting as well.
“It’s been five months. No other calls, no check-ins.”
“Declan—”
“Maybe she wants to come home but can’t. Or was taken again. You need to prepare yourself for all the possibilities. Your trial is in three days. You cannot count on her being there, especially when I know that there’s something you aren’t telling me. Give me something, Liam, anything. What are we fighting?”
He searched my eyes, however I hung up the phone, stood, and walked back to guards.
What were we fighting? What did Ivan DeRosa truly want? And how the hell was I going to kill him?
They were all questions I needed answered before I could answer him.
DAY 20
I couldn’t sleep. I wouldn't. Not on day like this. I sat up, my shoes loosely tied, hair just as messy as it always was, and waited. Three minutes until two a.m.
“Mr. Callahan.”
“Go to sleep, Avery,” I said, staring at the wall.
“Can I say something?”
“You already have.” In fact, the kid never shut the fuck up. I should have told the Warden to get his ass out of my cell. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t.
He was silent and I just rolled my eyes before pinching the bridge of my nose.
“What is it?” I asked.
I heard him swallow as he licked his lips.
“You have five seconds, Avery.”
“I just…I don’t think you killed your wife. You don’t seem like a killer to me or a bad man. I know what a bad man looks like. You aren’t nice, but you aren’t a bad man. So good luck I guess.”
I laughed. I just laughed. It actually felt good. I hadn’t heard something so bloody ridiculous in my whole life.
Pausing for a moment I knew what I could do.
“My people will look after you in here until I get you out. The moment I leave, the race lines will be brought up and you will feel the need to join the other blacks. Don’t. This is your one get out of hell card. Once you’re out, you’re going to work until you become somebody great...”
He laughed. “I can’t play basketball or football—”
“Is the only way you can become successful through sports? Stop talking before you piss me off and I change my mind. We. Will. Get. You. Out. You will work your ass off to become someone worth a damn because that is the only way you are going to pay me back for this. Ten or twenty years from now you will pay off your dues. Because believe me, I will come to collect. Do we have a deal, Avery Barrow?” I asked him seriously.
