REAPER (Boston Underworld Book 2) (21 page)

A man doesn’t get to know these things about a person without coming to some conclusions of his own. Sasha is as loyal as they come. I always suspected that Blaine was threatening her somehow. Manipulating her. But without her coming clean about it, there wasn’t anything I could do about that either. Until I did. Until I saw it firsthand.

I don’t expect Crow to ever understand that. So he can keep his opinions to himself for all I care.

“Why don’t ye make an honest woman out of her, Fitz?”

I glance over at him, expecting sarcasm on his face. But it isn’t there. He’s serious.

“I don’t know if she’d have me,” I answer him honestly.

“Well there’s only one way to find out,” he says. “Isn’t there? Do ye honestly believe you can just let her walk away? Because I don’t think ye can.”

He’s right, and we both know he’s right. So I just nod.

And then I catch movement on the street. I use the scope of my rifle to have a look, and Crow follows suit with the binoculars.

“Looks like we’ve got a couple more bites,” he says as we stand up. “Hope ye’re wide awake, Fitzy. Going to be a long night for the infamous reaper.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Sasha

R
ory’s pacing back and forth through Ronan’s house, on edge after the phone call he took earlier. He keeps glancing at the door, so I know he’s expecting someone, but I don’t ask him who it is.

Rory’s always been respectful towards me, but being that he didn’t hang out much in the VIP lounge at Slainte, I don’t know him very well. It’s strange to have him watching over me, but one look at the guy and it’s clear why Ronan picked him.

He’s ripped as all get out. A large, solid frame that I know frequently does some major damage at the underground fights. He’s a boxer through and through. Rough around the edges but has a sense of humor too. He’s always cracking jokes and messing around. So to see him serious makes me a little edgy.

“What’s going on?” I finally cave in and ask.

Before he can answer, Conor opens the front door. He ushers in a girl who someone obviously used as a punching bag, and a nervous tremor runs up my spine when I get a good look at her. It takes me a minute, but I recognize her as Mack’s friend. Scarlett.

Before I even get a chance to offer her some help and ask who the hell I’ve got to murder, Rory is at her side. His hands are twitching, and it’s obvious he wants to touch her, but he keeps himself in check. Barely.

“The doc is on his way,” he tells her. “Sasha can get you some clothes. Tell me what you need. A shower? Pain killers? Name it, sweetheart.”

She waves her hand at him dismissively and tries to smirk, but it’s obvious that it’s painful for her to even attempt it.

“Jaysus,” Rory mutters. “I’m going to torture the motherfuckers who did this to you.”

Scarlett tilts her chin up and puts on a brave face. She might be fooling the guys, but I recognize the exhaustion in her eyes. It’s the same expression I wore on my face every day that I had to deal with Blaine.

“Just go, Rory,” she tells him. “I’ll be fine. Or maybe not. I guess whatever you decide being that you took the choice from me.”

“It’s for your protection,” he tells her in a soft voice.

His fingers brush over her arm and she shrugs him off, her eyes meeting mine.

“Would you mind giving me a hand?” she asks. “I need to get out of these clothes. And a shower does sound good.”

“Of course.”

I walk over and join her and Rory frowns when I lead her away from him. He’s wearing a helpless expression on his face, but it doesn’t last long. It’s quickly replaced by determination. It doesn’t surprise me in the least. These guys live by a code, and I don’t feel the slightest bit sorry for whoever’s about to befall their wrath tonight.

I help Scarlett into the bathroom and out of her mangled dress. Her entire body is covered in bruises, and there are some deep cuts across her arms and chest. I know it’s a stupid question, but it’s the first one out of my mouth anyway.

“Jesus, honey, are you okay?”

She tries to shrug, but winces again. “I’ve been through worse.”

“God,” I mutter as I walk to the shower and turn it on for her. “I’d kill them myself if I could.”

“Looks like we’ve got a few Irishmen on the job already,” Scarlett quips. “Although I suspect they have ulterior motives.”

“What do you mean?”

She blinks at me, and doesn’t even try to bullshit me, which is nice for a change. “It’s you they’re after, dollface.”

“What?”

I reach for the counter to keep my balance. “How do you know that?”

“Because I was in your old apartment,” she says. “And they were grilling me about you.”

“Oh my god.” I throw a hand over my mouth and barely make it to the toilet before I vomit.

Scarlett just watches like she sees this sort of thing every day. She’s so blunt that I don’t really know what to make of her.

“Sorry,” I groan.

“Pregnant?” she asks.

My eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone. Just like I wouldn’t tell those dickheads anything about you. Not that I know anything, anyway.”

“I didn’t know how bad it was,” I admit. “I just thought I had to stay off the streets and out of the club and I’d be okay. But now they’re torturing people, because of me?”

“It’s not because of you,” she tells me. “But you already know that. Doll, the quicker you learn that women are nothing but pawns in this male dominated world, the better off you’ll be.”

“Trust me,” I tell her as I wipe my face. “I’m already very much aware of that.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Sasha

B
y the time Ronan gets home, Scarlett is passed out on the sofa. I was admittedly drifting off too, unable to fight the exhaustion of the night any longer. But Rory was even more antsy than usual. Especially after he heard Scarlett tell the doc she needed a plan B pill.

Ronan walks right up to me and barely acknowledges Rory, except to say, “I saved one for you.”

Rory is up and out of the door like his pants are on fire, and I tell myself I don’t even want to know.

Ronan collapses beside me on the sofa and pulls me into his lap. He’s got Jameson on his breath as he kisses my face and smooths his large palms over my hair. Pretty soon, he’s made short work of my shorts and tee shirt, and he’s carrying me down the hall to his bedroom.

He fucks me like crazy into the bed and then collapses beside me when we’ve both finished. My hair falls over his chest and he plays with it, his gaze quiet and thoughtful.

“Stay with me,” he says quietly. “Be with me.”

My pulse explodes, flooding my entire body with warmth. I can’t stop touching him. Looking at him. I don’t know whether to blurt how much I love him or that I want more than anything to be with him. What comes out instead is, “I’m pregnant.”

And the moment is officially over.

Panic seeps into his features, washing away any progress we’ve made over the last few months. His eyes flick from my face to my stomach and back about ten times before his expression falls completely flat.

He doesn’t say anything. Not a word. He just gets up and dresses himself.

“Ronan?”

My voice is weak, and I can’t find the words to beg him to stay. So he walks right out the door.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Sasha

I
glance up at the clock again for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. I don’t know what to do at this point. But I’m going frigging nuts sitting in this house, just waiting for him to come back.

Scarlett’s still sleeping off her injuries on the sofa where she insisted she would stay. Rory tried to argue, and the end result was him hovering out the front of the house where he could keep his frustrations to himself.

I know he’s only just outside, parked on the street in his car. I could walk out there and demand he take me to Ronan.

Or, I could just leave altogether.

That second option no longer appeals to me. The thought of leaving him now feels like its own sort of prison. I like being here, in Ronan’s house. Sleeping next to him. Breathing him in when he holds me at night. I don’t know how I could give that up. Give him up.

We’ve come so far together. I don’t want to turn back now. But then I just keep thinking that he left me. Again. And maybe this time, he really doesn’t want to come back. Maybe it’s all been for nothing.

My new phone rings, startling me from my thoughts. When I see Mack’s name, I pick up without hesitation.

“Sash,” she yells through the phone. She sounds totally freaked. And Mack never sounds freaked. It puts me on edge too. “Something’s going down.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some feds just came and arrested Lachlan. I tried calling some of the other guys, but I can’t get through to them. Is Rory still there?”

“I don’t know.” I walk towards the door. “I’m going to check now.”

“Wait!” Mack says. “Grab your purse and some clothes. Tell Rory to bring you to the safe house. That’s where I am.”

“I can’t,” I argue. “I have to wait for Ronan to get back.”

“Sasha, this is protocol,” Mack insists. “He’ll know exactly where you are, and he’ll come to you when he can, okay? But for right now, we don’t know how many of the guys are in custody, and it isn’t safe to be in the house unprotected.”

I think of my baby, and even though I want to wait for Ronan, I know she’s right.

“Okay,” I tell her. “I’ll grab some clothes.”

“Be quick,” Mack urges. “I have a really weird feeling about all of this. I’ll stay on the phone with you until you’re in the car with Rory.”

“Alright, but I’ve got to grab Scarlett too.”

“Scarlett?” Mack echoes through the phone. “What’s she doing there?”

I don’t answer because I’m pretty sure if she doesn’t know already then I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But I really don’t care.

“I’ll let her tell you herself,” I answer. “When we get there.”

“Ugh,” Mack groans. “Fine, whatever. I’m going out of my mind, Sash. Just hurry.”

I pack quickly, and Mack repeats the evening’s events to me while I do. She explains how Lachlan had just come home from the club when the feds started banging down the door. It was odd timing, like they intentionally wanted him to be away from the others so he couldn’t warn them.

“You haven’t heard anything from Ronan?” I ask again. “I’ve texted him and he won’t respond.”

“No, Sash,” she answers. “I’m sorry. But if anyone knows how to evade these guys, it’s Ronan. I don’t think you have to worry about him. We’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Her words do nothing to comfort me, so I focus on the task at hand. I rouse Scarlett from her sleep and explain that we have to leave. To my amazement, she jumps up without delay. And it occurs to me this girl’s natural fight or flight instincts are kicking in, a sure sign this isn’t the first time she’s had to run for her life. We reach the front door and I scoop Daisy up, tucking her under my arm when something occurs to me. Her leash is still in the kitchen, and we’re going to need it.

“Can you take her to the car?” I ask Scarlett. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She nods and Mack grumbles in my ear, obviously on edge.

“What’s taking so long?”

“I’ve got to get Daisy’s leash. Ronan doesn’t let her outside without it.”

“We can get a new leash,” Mack protests. “Just get your ass in the car.”

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going,” I tell her. “Let me call you right back.”

She’s still protesting in my ear when I hang up and glance around frantically for the leash. I know how particular Ronan is about Daisy going outside with it because he doesn’t want her to run off. But I can’t find the stupid thing anywhere.

Just as I’m about to give up, I find it hanging over one of the chairs. I yank it off and race towards the front door and down the steps.

But I don’t even
make it ten feet before a car pulls up and a flurry of activity ensues. My phone falls onto the sidewalk in the chaos, and my gaze drifts to the car parked down the block. Where Rory and Scarlett are.

Their faces are panicked, and I know it’s too late for me already when the uniformed agents converge on me. There’s nothing they can do for me at this point without alerting the feds that they’re here too. So I tear my eyes away and focus on what’s in front of me.

A woman decked out in FBI field gear approaches me first, gripping me by the arm.

“Sasha Varela.” She holds up a piece of paper. “We need you to come with us.”

I don’t even get to see what’s on the paper before she yanks it away. I hesitate when she tries to usher me to the car, and the other agents move towards their guns.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she says. “But I will cuff you if you don’t come willingly. Let’s not go that route, Sasha.”

I glare back at her and she shoves me into the back of a sedan. The female agent piles in beside me and we peel off down the street.

“Where are you taking me?” I demand. “What am I under arrest for? I need to know…”

“I’ll explain everything very soon,” she says. “But I can promise you, Sasha, this is probably the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

***

The agents take me to a white house in the middle of suburbia. And the entire time, the guy that’s driving keeps staring at me in the rearview mirror. He’s giving me the creeps, and nothing about this situation feels right.

When we park the car, my rational thought process starts to come back to me. They can’t just do this kind of stuff. I have rights, and I’m pretty sure they’ve already broken half of them.

“What are we doing here?” I rant. “You can’t just arrest me without telling me what it’s for. I want a lawyer. I have somewhere to be… I need to post bail, and I know my rights…”

“Sasha.” The female agent grins smugly. “Just calm down. I’m going to explain everything right now.”

They take me inside of the house and seat me at the kitchen table. The female sits across from me, looking way too self-important as she folds her hands across the glass.

“Sasha, my name is Agent Reed, and believe it or not, I’m here to help you.”

“Help me how?” I demand. “By holding me hostage? Am I under arrest or what?”

“You’re not under arrest,” she says. “Yet. But that could change, depending on how the rest of this interview proceeds.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I snap.

“We’ve had a good Samaritan tip us off on some criminal activity within the club you work for. Leads in some missing person cases as well as a written witness statement by one Donovan O’ Connor.”

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I shake my head and a maniacal laugh bubbles up my throat.

Am I never going to escape this frigging asshole? He’s dead, and he’s still fucking with my life.

Agent Reed purses her lips and acts genuinely surprised by my outburst. “I’m really not. Included in that witness statement are some very interesting things about you Sasha. It seems you are implicated as a potential accomplice yourself to some of these crimes.”

I sit back and cross my arms while I stare at her. “First of all, Donny is frigging deluded. So if you buy anything he’s trying to sell you, I feel sorry that he’s wasting tax payer’s dollars sending you on these types of goose chases. And second of all, I don’t know anything about any crimes. I’m just a dancer. A freelance one at that. So technically, I’m not even employed by that club. And unless you’re going to place me under arrest, you better take me back to my house.”

The agent sighs and gestures for the other man who is still watching me closely. He’s clearly an agent too, but something about him doesn’t feel right. I don’t like the way he keeps looking at me. Like he knows something I don’t. Like all of this is just for show.

He opens up a drawer and hands agent Reed a file which she then tosses onto the table in front of me.

“Donovan O’ Connor has been missing for some time now,” she says. “And by his own account, he suspected this might happen. He was prepared for it.”

She opens up the file and leaves me to have a look on my own. I swallow down my nerves as I slide it across the table and begin to flip through the pictures. Immediately, I know exactly who and what they are.

The photos themselves are grainy, and there’s no clear shot of his face. But it’s undoubtedly Ronan shoving a large roll of carpet into the trunk of a car behind Slainte. I take my time studying each photo. I’m trying to see if Donny actually captured anything of use.

The photos were obviously taken on a cell phone, and there are no lights in that part of the lot, so almost all of it is in shadows. There’s nothing that can identify the car that I can see because Ronan is blocking the plate itself. The photos have obviously been altered as much as they can to try to identify the subject, but a fat lot of good it did.

If I didn’t know it before, these photos only confirm what an idiot Donny was. He thought this would be his smoking gun. But it’s obvious that if they have me here they need me to corroborate his story. And without him being here to talk, I have to doubt they have anything else to go on.

“Before you say anything,” agent Reed interrupts my thoughts, “I think it’s pertinent you know Sasha, that you can be brought up on charges as well if you don’t cooperate. Alternatively, you can have the slate wiped clean. Move into our WITSEC program and begin anew. New name, new city. A chance to make a life of your own. I know that the last few years have been difficult for you. Supporting your mother during the final stages of her cancer could not have been easy. And then going to work at Slainte every night, knowing that you could never leave. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. I’m giving you that opportunity now.”

I take a slow, controlled breath and look up at her. For the last three years, I’ve managed to fool everyone who ever asked about Blaine. He’s the fucking nightmare that just won’t go away. And this agent thinks I’m just a dumb stripper who doesn’t know what she’s doing. She thinks she can fool me with her sweet talk. Her promises of a new life. I know better. I know her sugar coated lies are really laced with venom.

Even if I had nothing and nobody to lose, betraying the syndicate is the last thing I’d ever do. It’s a death sentence, no matter which way you spin it. If it had been Blaine I was selling down the river, I might have felt enticed. But it isn’t. It’s Ronan and everyone else who has done right by me. And if I can stand up to Lachlan and his questioning, I can sure as hell handle this dumb broad.

“Look,” I tell her. “It’s obvious you think I know more than I do. But I don’t know what you want me to say. I have no idea who’s in those photos. Even if I did, it’s kind of hard to tell what he’s doing. I mean, it looks like he was doing renovations for all I know. So I’m sorry, but like I said before, I can’t help you.”

“That’s a shame,” she sighs. “We were really hoping that you’d be willing to cooperate with us on this.”

She remains calm, opening the other file in front of her and sliding it across the table in my direction. I give it a cursory glance and feel my own resolve fracturing just a little.

“The way I see it,” she says, “there’s only one obvious choice. Either you take the deal I’m offering… or you’ll be going down for multiple crimes that involve aiding and abetting a criminal organization.”

She points at the second piece of paper in the file to prove her point and then arches a brow for emphasis. “Those are all felonies, by the way. Not that it matters. It makes no difference which prison you end up in. The Irish have reach in all of them, I’m told.”