Page 59 of Children of Redemption (Children of Vice 3)

“There were a few others, but those are the only ones we should really pretend to care about,” Wyatt said, tearing apart the bread O’Phelan had placed on his plate.

“How sad, I’ll have flowers sent—”

“I already had them sent,” Wyatt said with a grin. Evelyn looked at him for a long time; he looked right back at her. But they didn’t say anything else on the matter. Instead, Evelyn cast her gaze on Darcy, then Sedric.

“You two have a big day today. I’m looking forward to your press conference.”

“Is it in good taste to do it after what happened last night?” Aunt Mina asked, sipping her tea slowly. “We wouldn’t want to look insensitive.”

“Actually, it helps our cause,” Darcy replied while pouring milk into his coffee. “The whole reason Sedric and I are planning it is wanting to do more, because life is short. Last night only further emphasizes that. If they still don’t get it, one of us will make sure to offer our deepest, fakest condolences to those who lost their lives in last night’s senseless massacre.”

Sarcasm dripped off his voice, making Wyatt snicker as he looked down at Darcy. However, I was right between them, and because I was overly conscious of him, our eyes met. Whatever dark joke he was going to make faded away as he looked at me. For a second it looked like he was scowling at me. I wanted to look away, but if I did he’d know I remembered. So I just gave him a surprised look and mouthed, “What?” Annoyed, he looked away.

“What’s wrong with Wyatt?” my mother whispered to me.

; “I have no idea.” I shrugged.

She looked back over at him but then shrugged it off, asking, “Wyatt, are you going to be at the press conference, too?”

“Nope, I’m going to the barber shop.”

I didn’t listen any further than that, and my father and Uncle Neal started to speak about how in their day…blah…blah…we’re gods…blah…blah.

I didn’t have time to go down memory lane with them. I was panicking!

How the fuck was I supposed to make us go back to normal?!

I didn’t want to lose Wyatt or this family.

I didn’t want to lose my place at this table.

This was my home.

He’ll never let me step out of the cousin zone. I have to let it go. Get over this stupid crush before I end up screwing up everything.

WYATT

“The latest numbers, David, the death count has risen to thirty-seven, with forty more people, ages ranging from seven to seventy-seven, who were critically wounded after a series of drive-bys throughout the city and state last night. Among the dead are both wives of the current governor and mayor. People are shaken and confused, wondering why this happened…how this happened. So far, local authorities have not been able to release a motive. The FBI has been notified, and the president has released a statement, which in part reads, I’m deeply saddened by the news of last night’s massacres. Chicago, which had finally reached peace and stability after so long, was shaken to its core. My heart and prayers go out to all who were so tragically affected, and I’ve spoken directly with Governor Orton and Mayor Gutpa to let them know that anything they may need during this time will find its way to them. There will be justice for this. Those are the words of President Tarleton, David. The White House has stated that President Tarleton will make a visit to Chicago some time later this week to speak to the victims directly.”

God her voice is annoying, I couldn’t help but think as I listened to the television playing behind me.

“Thank you, Aubrie, for that reporting. We turn now to some different news. Moments ago, all-star Chicago Bulls point guard Darcy Callahan and his cousin, an equally famous pitcher for the Chicago Cubs, Sedric Callahan retired, shocking many as both of them seem to be at the height of their careers. Their reason? Life is more than the game. After recent events, they both have decided to take up humanitarian works. Here is their press conference,” the reporter stated, and I had to give it him. It was a smooth transition. I lifted my chin for the barber, the blade gliding over my cheek.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming,” Darcy said into the microphones, dressed in jeans and a basic t-shirt. Darcy looked at Sedric, who sat to Darcy’s right. Sedric nodded, signaling he was ready. Darcy continued, “Over the last few weeks, many of you have witnessed the great many tragedies that have befallen our city and, more personally, our family. It’s been a hard year, and in times of hardship, my grandmother says to pause, reflect, regain your footing, and find the strength to walk on your path. When I first began playing with the Bulls, I thought there was nothing more I could ever want in life…I was living my dream. But now my dream has changed…which is why I’ve decided to retire from the Chicago Bulls and begin a new organization, the R.I.S.E Coalition, aimed at helping underprivileged communities rebuild themselves.”

The cameras flashed as Darcy paused, allowing Sedric to speak. Sedric crossed his arms, leaning forward, still chewing his gum as he spoke. “I’m also retiring from the Cubs to partner with my cousin.”

Sedric preferred short, direct conversations with people who weren’t family. This often made him seem cold to people who didn’t know him…in reality, he was kind of like his dad, always ready to provide comic relief…which was probably why he and I got along.

“Is this just a publicity stunt to distract from the rumors surrounding your family?” one of the reporters asked before Sedric could lean back.

“What rumors?” Sedric asked, cracking his jaw to the side. “You all make up a new one every week. I’m a little behind on my gossip.”

I snickered. Darcy spoke up before anyone could answer Sedric’s question. “Our grandmother almost died in a terrorist attack, our cousin-in-law passed. You never know when you could lose your life, and I just want my life to be more than being a Callahan or a baller. So you could say we are having a quarter-life crisis…you can call it a publicity stunt…whatever, to make the world a little bit better than the way we found it.”

“Or a little worse,” I whispered under my breath.