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I gripped my knife tightly. “You know, you’re not very grateful. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve saved your ass now—”
“Three times,” he shot back. “I haven’t lost count. But one of those times you put me in danger, too, so you were only undoing the damage.”
That know-it-all smirk of his. That pride, ego, and arrogance. It was infuriating, not just because he did it to tease me, but also because it made him more attractive.
* * *
ETHAN - AGE 27
Chicago, Illinois
Sunday, November 12th
It was because of her.
If not for her, I’d be much closer to death.
If not for her, I would have lost myself to the rage.
Everyone, everyone, hates the leader of the pack. I hadn’t forgotten that. I hadn’t been taught that. Growing up, my parents let me know everyone wanted to be us. So I knew some of them hated us. But I had believed the lie: that somehow, some way, deep down, everyone still believed in the stories of how we all came together, us Irish, us Italians…how we all became family. That it was all to protect our families. But that was naïve of me. This wasn’t the mafia of the old days. What kept them loyal, what kept them in line, was fear and greed. Fear of what happened when the leader turned around and let his anger out on them. And greed, wanting to have the money and power themselves. Maybe Calliope knew because she was never part of the family which was considered the head of the pack. Or maybe she knew because she understood them better than I did. Or maybe she really was much smarter. Maybe it was all the above.
Nevertheless, I was both grateful and annoyed that I was in such a disgraceful position.
When I looked to the camera, I saw McGlinchy and a few of her family members sit around the dinner table. I glanced over to Calli, and she was asleep. Only she could take a nap at such a moment. For some strange reason, I was calm. I expected anger, rage, the need for blood and revenge, but looking over to her, I remembered her other words.
“Who was the date?”
Her eyes snapped open and she shifted her gaze to me. “You really aren’t going to let this go?”
“No.”
“Your jealousy is showing.” She scratched her wig as she adjusted her seat, looking out the window. “We’re here. Do you have a plan for getting in the door?”
“Knocking,” I said, grabbing my gun and stepping out of the car.
“Oh good, it’s like we’re just coming over for dinner.” Hefting her bag onto her uninjured shoulder, she lifted her gun with her good hand and gripped the machete with the other.
“I’m sure you didn’t break in just to look at her books. What else did you do?” I walked up the steps of the townhouse in the old Irish quarter of town. It looked a little shabby on the outside, but I knew that was because Grams liked to pretend she was still that down-to-earth Irish neighborhood lady. The inside was as modern as the family manor.
“You really expect too much of me sometimes,” she said with a smirk on her face, putting her mask on and giving me mine back.
“I think I’m underestimating you, actually,” I mumbled, putting on the mask.
I knocked on the door.
Checking my phone, I watched as they froze, and few of them started to pick up guns. I looked over to Calli, who just pressed a single button on a small remote, and I noticed gray smoke fill the house. I used the security system Helen had opened up for me to kill all the power to the house, which opened the automatic door.
I stepped inside first and she came in after me, closing the door behind us. Even through the mask I could smell the smoke. It smelled sweet…sickly sweet like candy. Calli didn’t wait: they came out, trying to attack us as they coughed and stumbled, and she cut them down with ease. Like a one-woman army she sliced and shot down those who came in front her. I left them to her, walking to where Grams was in the kitchen. The massacre had begun and would end easily…so bloody easily I felt insulted Grams had gotten to so close to me to begin with.
Stepping through the gray smoke I saw her doing what she could to hold on to her chair. She glared up at me from her seat, coughing. I moved to the window, opening it to let the smoke out before taking a seat. I waited for a moment before taking off the mask and looked over to her. Her wrinkled lips turned up.
“How’d you know?” she asked.
“My wife to be is very dedicated in making sure our family is…safe.” I said, putting the gun on the table. “She killed Teagan. She’s now killing everyone, but I thought you should know who went down first because of your treachery.”
She shook her head. “Why is it so hard for teenagers to listen?”
“Doesn’t matter now. I would have found him later and killed him anyway.”
