Children of Vice (Children of Vice #1)(16)
And as I drank, watching them as they watched me, something clicked.
Ah…so this is power, I thought.
Power. Influence. People feared and respected stuff like that. I knew that…
I’d just…never experienced it…
No. That was a lie. I had experienced it every time they’d thrown me into that dark cell, every time they’d patted me down, or when I’d lost a fight, or when the judge had thrown me in here, or when the shitty lawyer they’d given me had thrown me to the wolves, and when my dad had lost his life.
I’d experienced power and influence.
I’d just never had any myself.
Now I did.
So I took comfort in their fear. Because it meant one thing…the Callahans really were as powerful as everyone used to say. I could keep my promise.
They’ll pay. I swear it, Daddy.
FIVE
“She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.”
~ Nathaniel Hawthorne
IVY
“Ms. O’Davoren.”
“Ms. O’Davoren?”
“Ma’am?”
“Huh?” I lowered my gaze from the sky above me and focused on the lawyer, Avery Barrow he said his name was, standing in front of the black Mercedes in his suit.
“I understand. It’s just the sky…but after years of seeing it through windows or wires it doesn’t seem like just the sky anymore?”
I didn’t reply, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my old hoodie they’d returned to me. He took a step to the side for me, and the driver of the car opened the door for me to enter. Glancing back at the fences behind me once more before closing my eyes, I counted to five and opened them again…
This isn’t a dream.
“Whenever you’re ready—”
“I’m ready,” I said softly, sliding into the backseat of the car, expecting him to follow, but the door closed once I entered.
Instead, he walked around to the passenger seat while the blond-haired driver got behind the wheel.
“Is there anything you wish to listen to?” he asked, and I looked at the lawyer, who texted on his phone.
“He’s talking to you, Ms. O’Davoren.”
I glanced back at the driver, who met my glaze in the mirror briefly, waiting. Shaking my head no, I watched as the prison building shrank in the background…the fences stretched out. It wasn’t until we got to the four-way stop did it finally come to the end, and I felt really…
“Yes, ma’am,” the lawyer spoke into the phone. “Thank y—”
He stopped abruptly, obviously hung up on, and scrolled through his phone again.
“Was it Mrs. Callahan?” I asked.
“No. Ms. Callahan,” he replied. “Mrs. Callahan won’t call until you’re ready.”
Frowning, I shifted. “Are you trying to be vague on purpose?”
“No. Is there something you’d like me to clarify, ma’am?”
“Seriously? You’ve got like thirty years on me. Just call me Ivy. Enough of this Ms. O’Davoren or ma’am—”
“You still haven’t gotten it,” he stated, never once looking up. “You are no longer just Ivy.”
“No, I get it, the Callahan family is rich and powerful and you don’t want to upset them. But I’m not—”
“Not wanting to upset them?” He finally put his phone down and looked back at me. He looked like he was thinking it over for a moment before nodding. “You’re right. Offending them is dangerous. However, that isn’t why either I or Thomas here address you as we do. It isn’t why you were suddenly protected in there…that wasn’t fear, it was respect.”
“Respect?” My lips turned up out of a mixture of amusement and shock.
He nodded seriously. “Seven years…that’s how long you’ve been in prison. Whatever the reason, being so young, that is a tragedy…I’m sure just one of many in your life. And while you may feel like you have the worst, you do not. There are many people just like you. People cheated, victimized, abused, forgotten, the list goes on. Why? Because the world isn’t black or white. Sometimes you need to do bad to do good and worse to do even better. The Callahans made themselves the worst. The money, the fame, the power, was built on blood and bones. Why? Because no one else could do it. And in doing so, a kid who grew up living in Chicago’s most ghetto neighborhood, with an abusive father and junkie for a mother, came out of prison, with a full ride to college, where he became a lawyer. In doing so, helped other kids, kids no one even looked twice at, get reduced sentences, off death row, a second chance at life. So when I say you are not just Ivy, I’m saying you are now part of a family, that yes, has hurt many people, most deserving, some debatable, and surely helping many more. Anything you’d like to add, Thomas?”
The driver just shrugged. “They ain’t sent me to any college or anything. And I’ve heard things…but…” He met my eyes in the rear-view mirror again. “After what they did for my kids, I’d die if they needed me to.”
“Sounds like a cult. They take care of you and your family so you’d give up your life,” I muttered to myself, feeling ganged up on. The Callahans…I’d heard things too.