Children of Vice (Children of Vice #1)(9)



“I thought so and here you are.”

“I’m a Callahan! I go where I damn well please.” She snapped at me and for a second she sounded like our mother.

I could feel a headache.

“I’ll see you at home,” I said to her before hanging up as I stepped outside in the breeze so painfully cold today it felt as if it sliced through flesh.

“Sir.” My driver nodded at me, holding the door for me.

“Take the scenic route.”

Sliding into the backseat, I reached in the fold of the chair in front of me, lifting the tablet. No sooner did it scan my thumbprint than I saw the file.

The name IVY O’DAVOREN appeared first.

Flipping onto the next page, the very first thing I saw was a mug shot, what looked to be a pale skinned mop with wild blond hair all over the place. I could hardly see anything her chart described.

Name: Ivy O’Davoren

Charges: Aggravated Assault. Assault with a deadly weapon.

Sentence: Twelve years

Age: Twenty-Seven

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Blond

Height: 5’11

Tattoos: None

None of that was as important as the next section. Her next of kin.

Stepmother: Shay O’Davoren

Stepsister: Rory Donoghue

Cousin(s): Cillian Finnegan, Elroy Finnegan

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 f*cking 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.”

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