The Untouchables (Ruthless People 2)

“Your name,” I demanded, drawing everyone’s attention to the small server. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who forgot he was on board.

He took a step forward. “Nelson Reed.”

“You’re on my plane because…?”

He tried to remain calm, but I could see the nervousness building. “I’ve flown with Mrs. Callahan before, and Ms. Angelia…”

Before he could finish, Mel stomped out, not bothering to look at any of us. Instead, she turned to Reed, who quickly turned and prepared her tea within seconds. Handing it to her, he spoke, “I’m scared shitless of you, ma’am.”

She nodded, glaring at me. “Leave my people alone, yours tick me off.”

I’m not going to make it. Throw me out of the plane now.

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose as I stood. Then, I followed her into the room.

Before entering, I stopped in front of the worm. “Kiss up to my wife again, and I will rip your lips from your face.”

His eyes widened and he nodded quickly as I stepped in.

There, sitting in middle of the bed with her pinky sticking out as she drank her tea like the damn queen of England, was my wife. The room was small of course. It was only meant for short naps; the bed took up the whole fucking room. However, as she sat there, she glanced at me while sipping away, and I wasn’t sure what to do with her. She was driving me insane! If I argued with her, I would lose and only piss her off. I wasn’t sure if she was rational enough not to shoot me thirty thousand feet in the air. I couldn’t calmly speak to her without her thinking I was speaking down to her.

“Mel…”

“I’m going to be a horrible mother,” she said out of nowhere. “I feel it. I’m angry and annoyed with it all the time. I keep wishing I wasn’t pregnant because then I could think straight, and my head wouldn’t hurt. My skin itches, and the nosebleeds…”

“Itchy skin and nosebleeds? What the fuck, when did this happen?” I asked, taking a seat at the side of the bed.

She rolled her eyes, put her cup on the side table. “It’s not uncommon, I talked to the doctor about it. He said it should ease in a few weeks. And I quote, ‘your body is adjusting. The baby is fine.’ I’m not. What if I’m like her? What if I did this to her and that’s why…”

“Stop,” I snapped. “Women long before you or your mother have had difficult pregnancies. None of them turned out like your mother. She is…”

“She is my mother and we share DNA. I could be—”

“You are NOT like her!” I yelled, causing her to pull away from me to roll onto her side and stare at the wall.

God, this is Liam Callahan. I’ve sinned but do not punish me like this, I prayed.

Flipping onto the bed, I grabbed hold of her, pulling her towards me. She, being my wife, fought of course, but I would not let up.

“Liam let—”

“I did not chain you up to a bed. You do not have a lover I’m amputating body parts from in the basement…but if you ever did…”

“Liam,” she smiled.

I continued. “We both chose this. We are probably the most truthful couple on the face of the planet. Whatever caused your mother to be what she is has nothing to do with your fate. You love me.”

“Narcissistic asshole,” she muttered.

Smirking again, I kissed her shoulder. “And I love you…our kid is going to be happy because despite it all, we’re happy.”

“Your sappiness is killing me slowly,” she replied, as she rubbed her stomach and placed her head on my chest.

She’s back.

“It’s part of my charm, and I will need you to find your charm when we land,” I reminded her. The bed creaked and rocked as though we were on a ship and not in the sky. Propping her head up, she sighed.

“Figured,” she said. “How many of those loyal men did Shamus have?”

Too many.

“The Callahans are from the Irish hillside, and for decades our family has taken care of all the people within our town. From my great grandfather, to Shamus…”

“But not Sedric.”

“Not Sedric.” I nodded. “The people there are loyal to our family, but they feel as though he betrayed them by leaving and never coming back. I sent a few of the men ahead of us, but if we want to find out anything, we cannot go as aggressors. They most likely hate us for the death of Shamus, but can’t do anything because we are still Callahans. We find out what we need to know, we don’t kill anyone, and we leave.”

“Says the man with anger management issues.”

“I do not have—” I stopped when she grinned. “If people didn’t always make me angry, there would be no reason for management.”

“Anyway,” she said as she rolled her eyes, “we go to your homeland, be nice to the locals and what, they just hand over the Briars?”

“Yes.”

“That is going to last about ten minutes before one of us snaps.”

MELODY

The moment we stepped out of the plane I felt Liam’s body stiffen at the sight of not one, but five beat up old mystery-machine buses parked in front of our Range Rovers. We had taken a smaller plane from Dublin to the hills in order to cut our time on the road and keep our location a secret until we arrived. The private pasture we landed in wasn’t so private.

Dylan, Antonio, Monte and Fedel looked like they were standing on coils and trying to pretend as though they weren’t.

Somebody was going to get killed if they stayed this tense.

Why did that only make me want to smile? We didn’t want to start a war, but shooting the Irish was what we Italians did…or at least what the Giovannis did. Orlando used to say it was like putting down a wild dog.

“Old Man Doyle,” Liam called out as we approached the hairy man who stood leaned against the bus smoking his pipe.

Old Man Doyle didn’t look much older than Sedric. He was so young in fact, that he looked like he had just now started to get grey hairs, which were entwined with the reddish brown ones. His beard was thick though, and I wanted nothing more than to hold him down and shave it off his face.

He didn’t reply, he just smoked, blowing it out as though we had all the time in the world for his foolishness. One of his men—I guessed—stepped forward, blocking my view of the chain-smoking idiot.

He glared at me before turning to Liam. “Welcome to Ireland, you cocktrough bellgeg caffler.” He spat at our feet. “Now take your foucking Italian cunt, and your foucking family, and get the fouck out of our country.”

I just broke out in laughter, startling all of them. Turning to Liam, who had to be biting his tongue, I shook my head.

“When I said ‘that’s going to last ten minutes’, I apparently meant five,” I said, as I turned to face the dead man walking.

I always wore heels because it made it easier to threaten people when you didn’t have to look up, however, seeing as how I could no longer walk, I was going to have to look up this man’s nose hairs.

“Call me a cunt again, I dare you. And I will pull your tongue from your ass…or is it arse? So take your foucking face and bad breath and bugger off, because we both know you can’t do shit,” I told him.