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.
THREE
“As usual, there was a story behind the story, and that is where the truth was hidden.”
~ Kenneth Eade
EVEYLN
“He’s in the dining room, ma’am,” the butler said to me as the maids took my coat off.
Once upon a time, I used to know all the butlers and maids within this home by name. However, death had taught me many lessons throughout my life. The first was to only remember those who only truly mattered. If not, you’d learn that the heart could break infinitely. And the second lesson came almost immediately after…heartbreak happened on different levels and all caused various scars, some so great they never healed. You just learned to manage the pain.
“Nana!”
Turning back, I saw nothing but a blur of dark brown hair before she was clinging to me. Smiling, I hugged her back, placing my hand on her head.
“The princess is back in the castle.”
“Finally, someone who misses me.” She laughed, pulling back, standing eye level with me. Apparently, our heel height was the same today too. Despite the smile on her face, I could see a twig of familiar sadness in her green eyes.
“How was Wyatt?”
“Long story.” She shook her head. “How has it been with the great one?”
“Long story,” I repeated, nodding my head. “Now come on, I’m sure he’ll want to yell at me before dinner.”
“What now?” She groaned, walking with me toward the dining room.
There, all the way at end of the white clothed table, sat Ethan, cutting into his steak, while the butler poured wine into his glass.
“You’re both late,” he stated, his voice almost as emotionless as his green eyes, a trait both he and Donatella had inherited from their father.
“Here we go,” Donatella muttered to herself, walking me to my chair on the left of him. When she kissed my cheek and moved to take her seat at the right side of him, he paused, the marinated beef still on his fork, only an inch from his lips.
“How is Wyatt?”
“Do you care or are you asking just to remind me that I broke your law?”
He pretended to think for a moment. “Both.”
Sighing, I lifted my glass for wine because I sure as hell was not getting through this dinner without alcohol.
“I don’t know, Ethan. Why don’t you call and ask? His number hasn’t changed and you still have it in your phone.”
“So he’s coming back to beg forgiveness then?” He went on, obviously missing her point. Actually no, purposely missing her point. “Because that is the only way he’ll ever get a call from me.”
“Funny, he said the same.” She just had to go stoking the flames.
“Dona.” Before either of them went down this path, I intervened. “Did you hear your brother is getting married?”
Her eyes widened and her face relaxed as she turned to Ethan. “You’re what?”