Nothing happened today…but one day...one day soon, I’d close the chapter on that little broken girl in the snow and never look back. Until then, I had this family to face…
And now, five more days.
ETHAN
I sat back in my chair as I watched the security footage from inside the church. Though there was no sound, I understood well enough not to see more.
“Where are her sisters now?” I asked, looking up to one of the men she’d hired, though the slicked haired, broad-faced man seemed more interested in the interior design of my office.
“Italo took them back home. He gave them a little something to take the edge off. They’ll be all right…by the way, is this real?” he questioned, pointing to a painting of The Fall of Icarus that hung on the wall above the door across from my desk.
I didn’t answer, as I waited for him to turn back around.
“Of course, it would be real. How could it not be?” He snickered, putting his hands into his pockets as he finally focused his attention back on me. “Calli would have replaced it by now if it was a fake.”
My eyes narrowed at how he said her name.
“You have three options, Mrs. Callahan, boss, or ma’am.”
He pretended to think about it and nodded. “And for you?”
“Same address, different pronoun.”
“I’ll let the other boys know, sir,” he replied. “Anything else you need?”
“Yes. What grounds your loyalty?”
His eyebrow rose. “What?”
Rising from my chair, I walked over to the bar. “The people who work for us either need money, power, and protection, or they feel indebted to us for some reason. Which category do you all fit in?”
“None the above.”
“None the above?” I repeated.
“When the family you are born into is hell, you build a new one. Our loyalty is the same as yours to your siblings.”
I drank, watching him. I could tell he wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t being completely honest, either. Regardless, he stood unwavering in his answer.
“Mmh” was all I could say as I walked to my seat. “You may go.”
“Sir.” He nodded and took his leave.
Why is it whenever I try to get to know more of her, I end up with fewer answers and more questions? I snickered, looking up at Icarus. It was painted by Veronese. My mother had spent almost eighty million on it.
Just so it could hang here as a silent reminder that it was better to fly at night. I knew that. It made sense, yet somehow, I found myself flying at twilight.
20
“It hurts to let go, but sometimes
it hurts more to hold on.”
~Henry Rollins
DARCY
“Stay for a bit longer,” my mom nearly begged me as I tossed a pair of socks into my suitcase, only for her take it out.