Vicious Minds (Children of Vice #4)(72)

Chapter 15





“An Italian proverb says, in men every mortal sin is venial; in woman every venial sin is mortal.”





~George Augustus Henry Sala





Calliope - AGE 26

Chicago, Illinois

Tuesday, August 15th





I was trying my hardest not say I told him so, but the look of horror on his face as he watched the screen was hilarious.

“How do you want to kill her?” he finally asked, remembering our bet.

“Are you asking so you can imagine it and calm the urge to kill her yourself?” I took a bite of my kettle corn.

“Exactly,” he muttered, unable to look away from the screen. “How the fuck is she worse Klarissa? How?”

I tried, I really did, but I couldn’t hold back anymore, and I laughed. I laughed so hard I had to put down my wine so it wouldn’t spill. He glared at me, unamused. “What? I think she’s cute.”

“She’s a fucking twat! How the hell am I supposed to pretend to be so fucking in love with that?” He pointed to the woman on the screen currently being carried away in what looked like a straight jacket. She screamed bloody murder and looked like a beat up old rag doll with blonde scruffy hair.

“Now calm down,” I said with a very wide grin, “a little soap and water, along with a nice flat iron and she’ll look like third runner up at the local Miss Illinois Sweet Corn Festival.” I had to stop myself from laughing by taking a sip of my wine.

“Fuck her looks, Calliope. I don’t give a shit if she’s a goddamn skinhead—”

“You have black and Asian cousins; you should care about that one,” I cut in, knowing at this point he was ready to kill me.

He took a deep breath and tried once more to reason with me.

“We need her to be smart. That…” He pointed to the screen. “That is not a look of a smart person. We offered her a fucking get out of jail free card yesterday and the idiot just decided to curse our goddamn family.”

“It’s a new day; let’s see what she has to say today,” I said, gesturing at the screen. He glared at me and I gave it right back, making my eyes wide so he’d realize I wanted to see this.

He sighed again before taking a seat in the hotel arm chair beside me. I grabbed the remote, skipping to from yesterday’s video to today. There Evelyn sat in the little visitors booth, scrolling through her phone.

“Sending Evelyn was a good choice. Dona would have killed her and told you to try again.” I snickered, taking another bite of the kettle corn in front of me.

“You know this isn’t a reality TV show, right? This is our lives, correct? Your key to coming out of the shadows is everything falling into place as planned.”

I tore my eyes from the screen and looked to him. “Why are you so damn restless today? Shit. Yes, she’s dimwitted. But we knew that was a possibility. Hell, I was pretty much sure of it. We are at the finish line, Ethan. Even if she fucks up totally, between you and I, don’t you think we can find another way?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am quite done with looking like a fool, Calliope. We made this agreement to set a trap for my parents and now we’ve found ourselves trying to domesticate jailbirds. The very thought of people thinking I would choose her, the fact that I sent my grandmother to fetch her in prison, is a bigger embarrassment to my family than I thought.”

“You’re getting cranky in your old age,” I teased and poured him a glass of wine.

“In what world is 27…28 old age?” He took the glass from me.

“Mafia years,” I shot back and he grinned before drinking. Looking at the screen, I settled back in my chair.

“What do you think she’ll say today?” I asked him, watching as they brought Ms. Ivy O’Davoren into the room.

“So, they gave up on the black man and sent a grandmamma to try and get me to sign my soul away. It ain’t happening. Guard!” she yelled the moment she saw Evelyn at which Ethan just shook his head and drank.

The guard paid her no attention. He simply walked over to Evelyn with a teacup.

“I’m sorry, we had no cream,” Jimmy said in the politest voice I’d ever heard. “Is there anything else I can get you, Mrs. Callahan?”

Upon hearing her called Mrs. Callahan, Ivy’s blonde head whipped back to look at her. In a blink of an eye she lunged towards Evelyn, and I heard glass shatter beside me.

I looked over to Ethan who was now holding the broken glass his hand. His jaw was tight and eyes deadly as he glared at the screen.

“Did she just try to attack my grandmother?” He wasn’t really asking; he was in a state of disbelief. Taking the napkin, I reached over and cleaned his hand. Luckily, he hadn’t cut himself enough to bleed.

“I’m killing her,” he said as he picked up shards of glass.

“I won the bet,” I reminded him, going back to my snack. “You are so dramatic sometimes.”

“You’re starting to sound condescending.” His voice was as cold as death. I watched him for a moment and then ignored him. I loved him, but Ethan was just like his daughter…just like me. Sometimes we got cranky when we didn’t get what we wanted as soon as we wanted it. He was both looking forward to this moment and also dreading it. Having to go this far, having to pretend with her…he hated it more than I did, and it made me love and trust him more, even though he cared more about how it made him and his family look than how it made me feel.