The Untouchables by J.J. McAvoy Read Free Book Online Page B

wasn’t our role. We weren’t hired killers. We were business people who sometimes had to bash a few heads in to make sure things got done.
    That was part one.
    Part two was to make sure the family was happy and safe. That meant listening and handling problems in their lives. Yes, there were times when we had to knock some sense into them, but that was the life.
    My red heels echoed throughout the church as I walked right past them and towards the altar to light a candle before kneeling to pray. I believed in God, but talking to him was difficult. I was a conversation starter. I listened and reacted. Liam was the talker.
    I wasn’t sure how long I had been kneeling there before I heard Coraline or Olivia’s cell phone vibrate for what had to be the ninth time. Rising, I turned to them; I wanted to chuck a motherfucking candle in one of their faces.
    Do not kill in the lord’s house. Do not kill in the lord’s house.
    “I’m sorry, it’s Evelyn,” Coraline whispered. “We’re late for the charity brunch.”
    “We’re Callahans, we’re never late. Everyone else is early and impatient,” I stated as I grabbed the phone from her and turned it off before taking my kneeling stance back at the altar.
    But no sooner had my knees touched the pillow did Olivia’s phone go off. I turned towards her again, and the fear that crossed her face meant that she saw the hell I would unleash on her if she didn’t shut her phone off immediately. She did, which only made my private phone go off.
    Looking up at the cross, I sighed. “You see what I go through?”

LIAM
    “When did you get so good at hand-to-hand combat?” Declan snickered as I dodged Neal’s fist.
    “I’ll do my best not to take that as an insult.” I grunted, blocking my face before jumping back and landing one to the side of Neal’s face.
    He and I danced around the ring, staring down each other like hungry lions.
    Over the last year, this had been my and Neal’s thing. After years of not speaking to each other, except when needed, we were working ourselves back to brotherly status. I wasn’t sure how long that would take, but every Saturday, while my beautiful wife was at confession and her charity, we boxed. When Neal was in his fighting mode, there was no speaking, just calculated attacks. He was almost like a robot. But in the moments in between our attempts at killing each other, there was a look or a smirk that passed between us. That smirk said far more than any words. We were in a much better place than we were a year ago.
    “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, ducking down slightly as Neal’s fist came towards my jaw. “My wife tries to murder me every other week. A few of those times, have in fact led to combat…amongst other things.”
    “One day your dick is going to fall off. I’m just not sure what will castrate you first; the sex, or the fighting before the sex.” Declan laughed.
    “The sex,” my father said from the sideline. “You do know the walls are thin enough that every sound carries, right? We all can hear you.”
    “I know, I just don’t give a fuck.” I tried to punch Neal once more, but he blocked. “It’s my damn house, if we want to make love in the center of the dining table at dinner, we shall.”
    “Please don’t,” he said.
    “She puts a bullet in your thigh and you make love? I still don’t understand your relationship. After a year, she still hasn’t warmed up to you,” Declan said as Neal kicked into my side.
    Of course he would think that. My Mel didn’t show much emotion other than anger or fake kindness in public. However, it was different when we were alone. We had gone from murderous fuck buddies, to husband and wife. She let me hold her, which often led to more sex. But even after that, we’d fall asleep in each other’s arms. She didn’t say ‘I love you’ as often as I did, but when she did, it made me want to stay in bed with her forever. Love wasn’t her thing. She struggled with it.