Portia
Gregory is looking at Vincent motionless on the floor, half of Vincent's head missing. He's next. Heknows it. I know it. And he begins to whimper as Callahan takes hold of his hair and forces him to look him in the eyes, while my uncle prepares the next shot."Where is he?" Callahan asks. Same question.Gregory drags his gaze from Vincent. He's shaking. My two brothers, both cowards when they're outgunned and outsmarted.I only wish it lasted longer. They deserve to suffer. Doesn't he know that? Doesn't he want that?"Where. Is. Fernando?" Callahan asks again. It'll be the last time he asks. I know it.Gregory glances sideways to Vincent momentarily before shifting his gaze back to Callahan, then to my uncle. He's trembling now. He used to laugh at me when I trembled."Please," he begs.Callahan releases him with a disgusted expression on his face and steps back. I guess he doesn't want to get his nice suit dirty. That alone is the signal my uncle needs to pull the trigger again, killing his other nephew. His godson, this one.He's never been much of a family man, but I didn't realize he was a killer. Although I'm not surprised. Not one bit.Callahan's eyes fall on Nathan who is sitting up now, looking dazed, shocked. His head is probably spinning like mine was, jarred awake to witness this scene. This massacre of what remains of his family.“Bring the boy," Callahan commands. Two soldiers move as if it would take them both to lift my fifteen-year-old tall but scrawny baby brother."No!" Im on all fours then, scrambling toward Nathan, the wedding dress slowing me down.In my periphery I see my uncle raise his gun and aim at me. Then I see Callahan's hand close over his forearm and point the gun down.Would he have shot me? God. Would he have shot me, too?I throw myself between Nathan and the soldiers, spread my arms out Christ-like. "No!"One comes to shove me out of the way, but Callahan makes a sound. A tsk. The man stops, steps backward. They're like dogs, his soldiers.Well-trained dogs.Callahan moves toward me, my uncle on his heels."He's a boy!" I scream, pushing my back into Nathan in my attempt to shield him."Boys grow up to become men."“Please. He's only fifteen. He was five when it happened. Five."My uncle cocks the gun, drawing all my attention."Look at me," Cristiano says.I blink."Me. Look at me." He steps fully between my uncle and me, so I'm forced to. “How old were you?"“What?”"You. How old were you?"I'm confused. I open my mouth, see my uncle's impatient face move into view beyond Callahan's shoulder."Twelve" I say to Callahan, forcing myself to block my uncle out."One of my brothers was twelve. The other eleven.""We didn't..Nathan and I.." I shake my head, panicked as I see Gregory and Vincent's bodies. Unable to block them out. “We weren't part of that.”"Hmm. But you would marry that Fernando bastard?""What?" It takes me a moment to process. "You think I had a choice?"His response is a grunt but it's something."Did you notice the fucking door you broke down was locked? That I was locked in?""The boy," he says calmly to his soldier, opposite my frantic tone. He holds my gaze as he speaks."No!" I'm on my feet and lunging for the soldier in the blink of an eye, fingers like claws, nails digging into flesh. But big hands grab me from behind and peel me off.Callahan turns me to face him and I get one good scratch down his face before he can stop me. He mutters a curse as he twists my arms behind my back, gripping both wrists in one hand. With the other, he fists a handful of hair half in-half out of the twist Amma had just pinned my mother's veil into. He forces my head backward making me look up at him."Please. Not him," I plead, tears finally coming. “Please."He studies me, eyes narrowing."He's a boy. Just a boy," I try.“Like I said, boys grow up to become men."He releases me and gestures to my uncle with a nod. My uncle moves. Nathan's up on his feet, back pressed to the wall.I drop to my knees at Callahan's feet, hugging his legs as he's half-turned away. “Please. God. Please don't kill him. Please!"The gun is cocked. The echo is deafening. It's surreal what's happening and all I can think is, we're all going to die. He's going to kill is all.But when I look up, I find Callahan staring down at me with a look I can't quite name. Disbelief? Curiosity? Confusion?I open my mouth to beg again. “I'll do anything. Anything you want. Just please " my voice breaks.My uncle mutters something, some sound of annoyance as he steps forward.“Stop," Callahan says.I stare up at Callahan.He lays his hand on my head and I feel a glimmer of hope."Callahan," my uncle starts after a moment of silence. I can hear irritation in his voice. "You need to kill them both. Like you said, boys grow to be men and she's a liability. Bear in mind, they didn't spare your mother."I see from here how Callahan's jaw clenches. How the hand at his side fists. He turns his head slowly toward my uncle."Maybe I should kill you too, then. Just to be sure." His words are a whisper. A hiss. The threat is unmistakable.Someone chuckles. It's the casually dressed man. The sound is so out of place. When I look at him, he meets my eyes. Inside, I see hate. He hates me. Probably hates all of us.I turn back to the two before me and see my uncle's throat work as he swallows. It dawns on me. He's afraid of Callahan.But hell, who wouldn't be?Callahan shifts his attention back to me and he does something strange. Unexpected. He rubs the bump on the back of my head like he's just noticing it.When I stagger to my feet, he lets me. I go to my brother and take his hand.My cousin is crying. My gentle, non-problematic. He was born into the wrong family. How Vincent would have taunted him for his tears.I look at Vincent's body. See how that dark stain on his pants is bigger. He pissed himself in fear. And he got better than he deserved.When I look back at Callahan, he's watching me."Clean this up, Heathcliff," he tells my uncle then moves toward the exit. "Get them off my island."Island? Where the fuck are we?“I don't want their bodies on my land," Callahan finishes.He stops before exiting and turns to glance at me once more. Then, directs his attention to a soldier.“Put the boy under guard in another cell and bring the girl.”My uncle follows him to the door, grabs his arm to stop him."This isn't what we said. What we agreed."Callahan stops, looks down at where my uncle is touching him. Looks back at his face.My uncle lowers his gaze, drops his hand and moves back.Callahan steps toward him, his body, his whole being a threat. “You do as I say. Period."My uncle nods.Callahan turns his back on him."Bring the girl," he barks at the soldier and walks away.CallahanI've always hated Heathcliff Esmeralda. He always struck me as a lost cause. A petty, opportunistic piece of shit.Never trust your man who turned on his own family.The girl is arguing something, but I don't stop to listen. I don't care. They'll figure it out. She's safe, for now. So is the kid.“Are you going soft, Brother?" Antonio asks me.I don't dignify the question with a response. He knows better. Or he should, at least.I strip off my jacket, toss it aside when I walk into the main part of the house. I've only been back a few times since my return from the dead. Couldn't take a chance on being seen. Not before I interrupted that wedding.Dust cloths are still strewn over most of the furniture and I stop to glance at the pieces that have been uncovered. At the paintings of my family. Another of my ancestors.The ancestors are easier to look at. I didn't know them. They don't mean much to me. But I move to the one of my mother. My father commissioned it when they got e
Callahan"Take off your dress," I tell her. Her eyes narrow and she cocks her head to the side. She's petulant.A giant-sized pain in the ass.But a nagging voice tells me there's more than those things. It'd be simple if she were just those things. And I know exactly what it is. She's loyal. A trait not easily come by in my line of work. She humiliated herself, threw herself at my feet to save her brother.It's too bad she's loyal to the wrong side."Are you hard of hearing?" I ask. She just glares.I gesture to the gown. “It's dirty. You're covered in blood and brains. Not to mention it's fucking ugly. Idon't want you to dirty my things."Her eyebrows rise on her forehead. “You don't want me to dirty your things?”"Correct.""I want my veil. Your goon wouldn't let me get my veil before he dragged me out of there."I snort at that, take off my shoes and socks, undo my belt and pants. I turn and walk toward the bathroom, stopping at the door to look back at her momentarily."I though
PortiaI stand at the wall and watch the door close. I don't breathe until it does. I don't move until his footsteps have receded and a full minute has passed.Punish her cousin.Shit.He could have threatened to throw me back into the cell. Could have threatened me bodily harm. But he's too clever for that. He knows I'll obey if he threatens Nathan.Face down, ass up.I can't even begin to think about that part because, what the hell just happened?And the comment about no one coming in. Who would come in? My uncle? I'm an enemy to every single person in this house. I guess he wants to be sure I'm in one piece when he gets back to do what he thinks he's going to do.I shake my head, try to clear that thought and the ones that follow. Because I'm not stupid. He doesn't need my permission to do anything.I look down at myself, at the torn, ruined dress, then shift my gaze around the room. I thought maybe we were at Fernando's compound where he'd been keeping me the days leading up to t
Portia While I'm here I search through the drawers to see if there's anything I can use as a weapon, if I need to.I chuckle to myself at the thought.If I need to.I will need to. He's told me what he plans to do. Is that really the only reason my cousin and I are alive?And is Nathan truly alive? Or did he just say that to appease me? To ensure I wouldn't fight too hard when he lays his hands on me?I wish I could trust his words that Nathan was really okay. But you don't trust a man scarred and blinded by revenge.You don't.No. I can't think about that. Nathan is alive. I have to believe that. I return to the bathroom and pull the towel off my head. Rummaging through his drawers, I find a brush. I meet my reflection and peer closer, shifting my gaze to the right to see the bruise high on my cheekbone where the skin is cut.Probably happened on the floor of the cell. I'm surprised I'm not more badly hurt although my head aches. Setting the brush down, I open the medicine cabinet a
CallahanI can't help but wonder if Portia felt anything at all, watching her brothers executed. She barely flinched. What could they have done to her to make her hate them so much? They're her brothers for crying out loud. Her own flesh and blood.I'm sitting in the boardroom along with Antonio, two of the family attorneys, my uncle and two representatives from the charity to which I've made a sizeable donation. Diamente didn't accompany me to this meeting. This is the legitimate side of things. He's in charge of the other side.One of the women is ogling me from across the table and I'm trying to avoid having to look at her. I'm only half-listening as I turn the diamond link on my cuff around and around, bored out of my skull.“Callahan," Uncle David starts. "Are you even listening?" He smiles to the women and gestures for me to get my head out of my ass and pay attention. But I can't be fucking bothered."No, not really, Uncle." I get to my feet as he clears his throat, looking ann
CallahanCerberus, my German Shepherd, enthusiastically greets me when enter the house. I smile, crouching down to pet him. He's been with me for two years. A loyal companion.Antonio is spending the night in town. I can't blame him. I'm not a lot of fun these days and now that we're back in the land of the living, he's making up for lost time.Servants have cleaned more of the house in my absence. More dust cloths removed, almost the whole of the downstairs looking lived-in now.The house is huge. Well, it's a compound, a safe place. It should have been, at least, and it will be again now that I'm back. For all intents and purposes, the island is only accessible by sea or air. Guards stationed in a watchtower. The building itself is six centuries old. A castle for a nobleman whose name I can't remember.Another damn thing I can't remember.My family purchased the house more than five-hundred years ago when the owner's family fell out of favor with the ruling party at the time. We've
Portia"Jesus!" I'm startled at the look of the very large and very excited German Shepherd that comes through the door.Callahan turns to look at me with a grin on his face-asshole which is gone the instant the giant hound sniffs me then sets his head on my lap, tail wagging like we're old friends.I admit, this is a scary looking dog but they're usually the sweetest. It's the little fuckers you have to watch for. I still remember a friend's yappy poodle chasing me around the dining room table on my first visit to her house when I was barely five."Well, hi there. What's your name, sweetie?" I ask him in a voice that makes Callahan roll his eyes as I lean down to cuddle the dog.Callahan mutters something under his breath. I don't hear what it is, but he sounds annoyed. Good."Cerberus. Here." He points beside him, but Callahan nuzzles his nose into my hair behind my ear. "Christ," he mutters and tugs the dog away. “Sit.""Hey!"The dog whines but sits, just barely, tail still waggin
Portia "Hey." I try to claw his arm off. “Where are we going?”He stops, looks back at me. “You saw your brother. He's fed. He's unhurt. Let's go.""That's not really fair.""It's exactly what you asked for.""But...no. That's not...I want to talk to him. Can he come upstairs, please? He's harmless." I gesture to Nathan as if to make a point."Are you warm?" Callahan asks Nathan over my head."I...guess." I forget how young he is. Just a kid. So unlike Vincent and Gregory were. “I have a blanket." He points to it as if he doesn't want to be any trouble.Callahan turns back to me. "You'll visit tomorrow." He pulls me to the stairs."He's probably scared down here all alone.""I think he's old enough to no longer be afraid of the dark. Let's go. If you give me trouble, you won't see him again."I go with him because I don't have much choice. "Does that mean we'll both be alive tomorrow?" I ask when we're upstairs.He releases me, looks down at me. Sweeps his eyes over my — his — clot