Read REAPER (Boston Underworld Book 2) Online
Authors: A. Zavarelli
Chapter Twenty
Sasha
T
he burial is a small affair. My Ma didn’t want a big production, and I respected her wishes. The flowers and the casket and everything Ronan picked out is perfect. And I have to admit I’m surprised when all of the guys show up in their nicest suits. Even Ronan himself.
“Thank you for coming,” I whisper to Mack as she stands at my side.
“I’ve got your back, Sash. You’re just another fruit in this big fucked up family of ours. And that’s what family does.”
Her words make me smile, even though it feels wrong. I’ve always told myself these guys were never on my side. But she’s right. It is like one big fucked up family. Sometimes it takes being at your lowest point to see who’s really there for you. And they’re all standing right beside me now.
The service is short and done at the burial site. Mack remains beside me the entire time, and when it’s over, she insists I ride with them.
We end up at the diner that Niall’s sister runs. The same one I used to work at. The place where it all began. When Sally sees me, she kisses me and gives me a hug that’s entirely too tight. Despite the family business, I really do think she has a heart of gold.
She feeds us and allows us to sit and drink and talk until the late hours of the evening. And when it’s time to go, Lachlan offers to drive me.
“I’m heading back to the house,” Mack says. “But just call me if you need anything, Sash. Anything at all.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Thank you again, for everything.”
Ronan turns to escort her to his car, and I reach for his arm. “And thank you too.”
He nods and then hesitates. I hope he will say something. Anything.
But he doesn’t.
***
The drive with Lachlan is quiet.
I know he plans to talk to me, so when he follows me up to my apartment, I don’t argue. I set down my keys and bag and then gesture to the kitchen.
“Would you like a drink?”
“No, Sasha,” he says. “Thank you. Why don’t ye just have a seat so we can chat for a few moments.”
I nod and take a seat, wringing my hands together. I know Lachlan fairly well. I’ve never known him to be hot-headed or unreasonable, but I also know he will squash anything he perceives as a threat without batting an eye. He does it for his brothers. For the syndicate. And with the obvious tension in his shoulders and voice, I can’t help but thinking he views me as a threat somehow too. He clears his throat, and I look up at him.
“I understand why ye want to leave,” he says. “But I’m sure you can understand there are a few things we need to go over first.”
“Of course.” I give him a shaky smile.
“All the same rules would apply as if you were still working for us, Sasha. No speaking to the cops. Ever. And I do mean ever.”
“I won’t,” I assure him. “You have my word.”
“You’ll be given some new ID’s, and you’ll need to use them for your safety and ours. As far as the club is concerned, you never worked there. Do ye follow?”
“Of course.”
“And the MacKenna family?” he asks.
“I don’t know who they are.”
“That’s good,” he says. “Very good, Sasha.”
He stands up, and I think he’s going to leave. But instead, he paces towards the window and looks down onto the street, his back turned towards me.
“There’s just one more thing,” he says.
“Okay.”
“I need ye to tell me what happened to Blaine.”
All of the blood drains from my face, and I pray that he won’t turn around and see it. Because I’ve been hiding this secret for the last two years, but not from someone like Lachlan. Not when asked directly.
When everything went down before, Ronan took care of it. I didn’t have to do a thing. I don’t know how he did it, but they were convinced that Blaine had left town. When they questioned me about it, I told them exactly what Ronan told me to. He told me he was going home for a visit and I didn’t know when to expect him back. And that was it. They didn’t question it further. Blaine was always a bit flaky, and they thought he’d come back, but he never did.
And I had sort of just hoped that it meant he’d fallen off their radar. But apparently that isn’t so.
Lachlan turns around and pins me with his gaze. He sees right through me. “I know he didn’t leave town,” he says. “I need ye to tell me what really happened, Sasha. That’s all you have to do. And then you are free. You can leave. Do whatever it is you please.”
My chest is heaving like there’s a giant cement block resting on top of it. It’s getting harder to breathe. My eyes dart around the room seeking out objects to ground myself. I can’t lie to him. He’s going to know. But I can’t give up Ronan. Correction. I won’t give up Ronan. He did what he did for me. And he’s carried that secret for these last two years knowing that I could be a threat to him.
He could have killed me at any time, but he didn’t. Because he trusts me. And I trust him. And I won’t betray that trust, no matter what. Lachlan is his brother, but Lachlan is also loyal to the syndicate and all of the rules that come with it. I don’t know what he’d do in this situation, and I’m really not willing to find out.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.” My voice comes out shaky. “But I don’t know what happened to Blaine. I already told you…”
“What you told me was a lie,” he says. “We checked flight records. Blaine never went back to Ireland.”
“Well, then I don’t know,” I say quickly. “Maybe he went somewhere else. Maybe he’s still in the states. I don’t know what he’s doing.”
Lachlan narrows his gaze and stalks closer, kneeling down until he’s on my level. He’s a lot scarier when he’s this close. And I know he senses my nerves. I’m all over the goddamn place. I’m shaking. My eyes are watering. And I think he really might kill me now.
But I won’t give up Ronan. I wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for him.
“Sasha,” Lachlan says, his voice softening. “If somebody hurt him, and it wasn’t you, you have nothing to be concerned about. All ye have to do is tell me. And I will take care of it. Hell, I’ll even give you some extra cash to disappear with.”
My bottom lip trembles, and I bite it to keep from telling him to go fuck himself. Because that’s all I really want to do. He’s pushing me, and I don’t know why. But I can’t handle it. Not right now.
“Look, I don’t know anything!” I yell at him. “You’re barking up the wrong fucking tree, okay? I don’t know what you want me to say. Blaine is gone. I haven’t seen him. Haven’t heard from him. That’s all there is to it. Nothing you do or say is going to change that.”
Lachlan rocks back on his heels and rises up to his full height. And then he just nods and walks toward the door. I’m left completely stunned when he pauses with his hand on the knob and turns around.
“I have to admit, Sasha,” he says. “I really thought you might break. Ronan was right about you.”
“What?” I whisper in confusion. “He told you?”
“Aye,” he says. “Because he had no other choice. And you’d do well to stick to the same story whenever anyone asks about it.”
He leaves, and I fall back against the sofa in a state of disbelief. Ronan told him. And didn’t even warn me. He just let him come here and test me, and there probably would have been a very different outcome had I told the truth tonight. He could have killed me.
It pisses me off. But worse than that, it hurts. I can’t believe Ronan did that to me. I pull out my phone and debate calling him when I realize there’s no point. This is the way it is.
So instead, I pull up my calendar and count the days to Mack’s wedding. Five more days. And then I’m gone. For good.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sasha
I
t’s the day before Mack’s wedding, and I’ve spent the entire week packing up the apartment and helping her with wedding things.
It’s not going to be a big event. Mack says she doesn’t see the point in going overboard on everything. That’s just part of the reason why I love the girl. I haven’t spoken to Ronan or Lachlan since the day of Ma’s burial. And that’s honestly the way I prefer it.
So when Lachlan’s name flashes across the caller ID of my phone, I debate on ignoring it. But then I think maybe they need me to help with something else for the wedding, and my guilt gets the better of me. So I answer it.
“Sasha,” Lachlan’s voice filters through the phone. “Are you there?”
“Yes.”
“Look, Kaya twisted her ankle. She’s going to be out for a couple of weeks. I know ye’re leaving on Monday, but we have a special event booked on Sunday and I really can’t do without another dancer.”
“I don’t know.” I bite my lip and glance around the apartment, looking for any excuse to keep me from going back to the club. I don’t want to see Ronan again. I don’t want to get sucked back in, and I’m afraid that’s exactly what will happen if I go.
After a minute of hesitation on my part, Lachlan sighs on the other end of the line. “I know ye have a lot going on right now,” he says. “But I’m getting married tomorrow, and I just need everything to go smoothly.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “You just had to play that card, didn’t you?”
He laughs, and it eases some of the tension between us from our last visit.
“Okay, fine alright,” I agree. “One last shift. That’s it though, I mean it. Come Monday morning, no matter what, I’m out of there.”
“Absolutely,” he says. “Ye’re a lifesaver, Sasha, truly. Mack and I will both be eternally grateful.”
He hangs up the phone and I flop down onto the sofa, staring at the barren apartment. Everything is in boxes now. Ma’s stuff is in storage until Emily and I can go through it and figure out how to divide it up. I’m really only planning on taking the necessities with me, especially since I don’t even know where I’m going. I decided California was off the table after my spat with Em. We both need this time apart to deal with things in our own ways.
I should be checking out places online. Applying for jobs, looking up facts and figures on Google about the best places for lonely ex-strippers to live. But I highly suspect that Google isn’t going to have the answers to those questions. And something is still holding me back.
I grew up in this city. It’s all I’ve ever known. Even with all of its wrongs, the thought of leaving it just doesn’t feel right. When I’ve spent so many years having all of my decisions made for me through circumstance, trying to make them myself is overwhelming and even a little terrifying. This is my one chance to get out. Not to screw up my life anymore. And I’ve only got one shot to get it right. It’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.
I walk down the hall to finish packing my bedroom when I notice Ronan’s old suit jacket still hanging on the door. Haunting me, the way he always does. And I can’t look at it anymore. I can’t have any of these things in my life, causing me confusion. From now on, I’m only going to move in one direction, and it’s not backwards.
With that thought in mind, I grab the jacket from the door and stomp all the way down the hall and out the front of my apartment building. The first homeless guy I find when I round the corner is the lucky recipient of the jacket and everything it represents.
***
“You can’t tell anyone yet,” Mack whispers. “But I’m totally knocked up.”
“No way.” I glance down at her stomach, but there’s no evidence there yet. She’s glowing in her wedding dress though. I’m emotional again, and I don’t know what to say. So I hug her.
“And married too.” I tell Mack with tears in my eyes. “I can’t believe you really did it.”
“I know,” she agrees. “I’m in it for life now.”
I glance down at her hand, which still has a tiny amount of blood on it from the ceremony. Something I would have once considered strange and barbaric is now oddly sweet to me. Watching them pledge their love and devotion to each other in front of all of their friends like that. The words weren’t enough. It had to be said in blood too. Not only is that the way of the syndicate, but that’s how strongly they feel about each other.
Her devotion shines in her eyes every time she looks at Lachlan across the room. I’m happy for her, but a part of me is sad too. The last thing I should want or need is a relationship. Or the kind of wild, stupid love that makes people go temporarily insane. I never thought someone as jaded as me could be touched by a love like that. For the few brief times I was in Ronan’s arms, I felt the way Mack looks right now. Dreamy and completely untouchable to all of the bad around me. The only thing she can see is him now.
At first, I wanted to warn her away from him. But now I know that I was wrong. Lachlan loves her too. Fiercely. And I feel truly sorry for anyone who ever tries to come between the two of them. I doubt there are any lengths they won’t go to for each other.
“You better go to him,” I tell Mack. “He’ll just come to you if you don’t.”
“That’s the way it should be,” she tells me with a grin. “Make them work for it every once in a while.”
I laugh, and then my eyes move on autopilot across the room towards Ronan. The smile on my face dissolves, and the only thing that remains is the act.
“You should go dance with Ronan,” Mack suggests.
It’s all I can do to shake my head because I doubt Mack has any idea of the events that have transpired recently. “Nah. He’s not the dancing type.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she agrees. “He’s more of the sit in the corner and brood type. Maybe you could go brood with him then?”
Lachlan sneaks up behind her as we’re talking and it isn’t long before he’s dragging her away. I’m grateful for the reprieve from that conversation. I have no intentions of speaking to Ronan tonight.
When I turn around again, I’m surprised to find one of the Russians has descended on me though. He’s a member of the alliance with the Irish, and a frequent client in the VIP area. I’ve seen him in the pit when I danced before and even delivered him drinks a few times.
His name is Niko, and although he’s handsome in a rough way, he doesn’t hold a candle to Ronan. Then again, nobody does.
“One must never drink alone.” He greets me by wiggling a vodka bottle in my direction.
“Wasn’t one glass enough?” I tease.
He shrugs and winks. “When the drinks are on the Irish, you take your fill before the bar goes dry.”
I laugh and Niko pulls two shot glasses out of his pocket. Before I have another chance to decline, he fills them both up to the rim.
I take my glass and hold it up to his while he utters a Russian toast. Then we both toss back our shots and the burn feels good in my stomach.
“What does it mean?” I ask. “The toast?”
Niko flashes me a boyish grin. “May you get drunk enough this evening to think me handsome.”
I’m smiling at him and shaking my head when a firm grip wraps around my arm. I look up to see Ronan, his eyes smoldering with barely contained fury.
His gaze flicks from me to Niko and back, filled with accusation. He yanks me into his side and leans down to whisper in my ear, never taking his eyes off Niko.
“Would ye like the lad to watch me give you a going over?” he asks.
“What the hell is your problem?” I fire back at him.
His response is to forcefully drag me away from Niko and pull me into an empty corner of the club, away from everyone else.
“Party’s over,” he says. “You’ll be going home now.”
“Like hell I will,” I argue. “You don’t get to decide that. Or who I talk to either.”
“You were smiling at him,” he accuses.
“So frigging what?” I retort. “We were just talking. At least someone around here knows how to use his vocabulary.”
We stare at each other in silence, both of us fuming now. He’s acting like a toddler. And after what he told Lachlan, he has no right.
I try to brush past him, but he just follows me. Niko has disappeared into the crowd which is probably for the best. So I take a seat at an empty table and Ronan pulls up a chair beside me.
We both stew in our own silences for a long time. I’m staring at the crowd, and he’s looking at me. I can feel it, but I won’t meet his eyes. Because my anger won’t hold up under that gaze. And I need my anger right now.
But then he does something that I can’t ignore.
His leg brushes mine, and it isn’t an accident. It might seem like such an innocent gesture, but with Ronan, it definitely isn’t. He doesn’t flirt. Or do anything in half-measures. He comes to me for one reason and one reason alone. To take what he wants.
I can’t recall a time he’s ever touched me unless it was for a purpose. But right now, the heat of his leg is pressed against mine, and it can’t be overlooked. I glance over at him, and he’s still watching me.
There’s a guilt and frustration in his eyes, but he doesn’t apologize. Instead, he leans a little closer, and his breath fans my face. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. My heart does a weird little flip, and I stare at him in confusion. I don’t know what he’s doing.
Apparently, neither does he. Because he looks as confused as I am. But his gaze isn’t on me now. It’s over my shoulder. Taking mental notes.
When I turn around, I catch sight of Scarlett and Rory across the bar. Sitting in the exact same position as we are. Rory is putting the moves on her, waiting for her to bite. And it occurs to me Ronan is trying to do the same.
“Are you mimicking him?” I ask.
A flush creeps up over his neck and he leans back in his chair. No answer. But what do I expect?
I could try to dissect his motives for following Rory’s lead, but that was the old me.
The new me isn’t supposed to care anymore.
“I’m going to have Conor take me home,” I tell him.
I don’t wait for his reply, and I don’t look at him again.
Childish? Perhaps. But a girl has to be able to protect herself by any means possible. Even if it means using a silent wall of armor.
And until I’m burning rubber out of this city, I have no intentions on speaking to Ronan Fitzpatrick again.