Page 67 of Cillian

“Queenie. My wife's name is Queenie.” Tadhg spent the least time around her, so I didn’t blame him for referring to her by her first name. But she was family, so everyone should get used to getting her name right.

“Queenie then,” Tadhg acknowledged. “But I'm still taking the call. That redheaded anger of yours could cause your wife's life or worse.”

“What could be worse than killing her?” I asked, in a panic. Tadhg advised Paddy to pour me a drink.

“You ever hear of Recy Taylor?” Paddy sympathetically poured me a pint, as I asked him who that was. “Trust me when I tell you. You don't want to know what happened to her. But we don't want that happening to Queenie. Even if they don't hurt her, a church girl like that will never be the same after this.”

I didn't want the drink but I took it to take the edge off. Could this have been my fault? My actions reflected my mood most times. And it hadn't been that long ago that I had pistol whipped a man in public.

Could it have been retaliation? They had seemed like the pussy type, but what if they just had strings in different places than us?

Most of all, who would be bold enough to go against the Sullivans? No one—and I mean no one—could survive a war against us.

The phone rang, as Paddy and Bellamy had to forcibly pin me to my seat to keep me from jumping toward him. “Calm him the fuck down,” Tadhg demanded, and I couldn't believe at a time like this he would wait for the fourth ring to pick up.

“Hello?” As Tadhg mouthed, “They're glad that it's me.” Continuing on with the call.

“Who am I speaking to? Since we used to be such good friends.” Tadhg snapped his finger, urging someone to get him something to write with, as Bellamy silently answered the request.

Tadhg eventually revealed it to be Callahan, but he’d wrote it the Gaelic way, as Ó Ceallachán.

Most folk that came over anglicized their family names, and we’d been no different. But from what I did remember about the Callahans was that they’d always favored their true Irish name over their Americanized one.

“You want to make things right? Can't say that you're off to a good start taking my fucking sister in law. That's dirty business and half of the reason why we cut you out in the first place.” Tadhg had managed to keep his calm, but I was bouncing off the walls.

“This problem is long rooted. Can’t say I trust your word for it—” What the hell was Tadhg even saying? Didn’t even sound like he was trying to get Queenie back. At this point, he was just talking.

“You want me to meet in person? What you plan to solve with that? Just talking, huh? Well we’re talking now, and I’m listening ain’t I?” Noticing my agitation, Tadhg did me a solid by calming my nerves and asking for proof of life.

“Look, our ears don’t open unless we can confirm that our sister is alive and no harm has come to her. No, like right now,” Tadhg demanded, as he gestured for Paddy to let me go and hand me the phone.

It was quiet on the line for about a minute and then a weak, delicate voice called out my name. “Cillian?”

A small part inside me died a little bit, because all I could hear was the pain and fear in her voice. It was just enough to make me collapse.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Queenie? Did they fucking hurt you? I'm so sorry I wasn't with you. I'm going to come get you, okay?” The words all came out like one word, overcome with unhinged delirium over hearing her voice.

Tadhg took back the phone, confirming details that I should have had the strength to take down, but I was a mess after hearing Queenie’s voice. Snatching the phone away, I screamed into it, only to learn that the line was dead.

“They want us to meet them at Lovell’s Island. Fort Standish,” Tadhg concluded.

“That abandoned military reserve?” Paddy questioned.

“Does that matter?” Tadhg wondered.

“Been abandoned for years. Great place to have a showdown but shit place to walk in when you don't know the place.” Paddy himself had never been, but he knew enough about it to know going in light and blind wasn't a good idea.

“This ain't your fault, Cilly. This lies on us. We cut them out, but you were easier target because you’ve got someone that makes you vulnerable,” Bellamy admitted.

“I don't give a fuck who's at fault. Just give me the chance to get my wife back,” I screamed pulling at Bellamy's collar like a madman.

“Stay calm Cillian. It won't do your wife any good if you're emotional like this.”

“I don't know Tadhg. I think the kid works better when he's angry,” Paddy said in jest.

“I promise you, Cillian. On our father's grave, I'm not going to let anything happen to her,” Tadhg promised, but my mind was full of haze, I could only see red.

“There better not be a fucking curl out of place on Queenie’s head. Because if there is, anybody in Boston that’s even walking around with the last name Callahan is going to pay for it. Mob family or not.”

---