REAPER (Boston Underworld Book 2) (25 page)

Chapter Forty-Three

Ronan

T
he shite with the feds ends up taking a lot longer than I’d hoped. They questioned me, but with circumstances being what they were they didn’t have enough to arrest me.

The syndicate has a barrister who is used for occasions such as these. He maintains his own connections within the judicial system and he uses them often in exchange for a hefty bonus from Niall. But when the feds get involved it can be a complication. They are used to dealing with mafia now. They know how it works. Witnesses disappear, evidence gets tampered with, things have a way of going wrong before they ever get to trial.

That’s why often times they would rather get you to turn on your mates before it ever gets to a courtroom. But they don’t understand the ways of the syndicate. They don’t understand that the blood oath we swear is real and is for life.

“Fitz,” Crow greets me when I walk into Slainte with the barrister in tow. A few of the other lads are here as well, preparing to discuss the future of the syndicate.

“Crow.” I nod in his direction.

He shakes the barrister’s hand and then we all head down to the basement where we generally meet on such occasions. The room is already set up with drinks when we sit down. Crow takes his place at the head of the table, with me right beside him. He folds his hands over the wood and glances around the room, the expression on his face solemn.

It goes without saying how much Niall means to him. He’s like a father to Crow. He’s been good to both of us, and I have nothing but respect for the man as well.

“I’ve been to see Niall,” he says. “He’s very ill and the docs say it’s likely to be a long recovery for him.”

“So what now?” Conor asks.

The room is quiet for a pause, and Crow’s eyes are glassy when he looks to me. There have been few times I’ve seen the lad get such emotion in his eyes, so I know the situation is more serious than he’s leading us to believe.

“Niall was of a sound mind,” he continues. “And though I insisted we wait until he recovered to make any sort of big decisions, he didn’t agree. He would like to be at home with his family. He’s ready to retire.”

Again, the room falls silent. The gravity of the situation sinks in as the lads reach for their glasses and make quiet toasts to Niall and his family. This means things are going to change now, in a big way. Crow will become boss of the MacKenna Syndicate. And he will choose his right hand man.

I’m not in the least surprised when his eyes fall on me a moment later.

“Fitz.” He clears his throat. “I’m sure I don’t even need to ask ye. But it’s my choice, and if I have to choose from any of the lads, I know who I want by my side.”

I’m quiet, trying to process what this means for me. He wants me to take on the role of underboss. Run Slainte and all the lads who deal operations through here. It’s a heavy role, and I consider it as such.

I don’t just have myself to think of anymore. Sasha might not like it. The higher up you move, the more protected you become. But this also means there’s the potential for a bigger target on my back.

Crow reads the indecision weighing heavily on me, so he helps me along in his usual way.

“I know ye’re going to be a father,” he says. “Congratulations, by the way, Fitzy… I didn’t know ye had it in you.”

Some of the lads laugh, but it doesn’t bother me in the way that it used to. I have Sasha, so they can laugh all they like.

“You’ll be running the operations here at the club,” he says. “No more foot work out on the streets. You said ye wanted more responsibility, Fitz, and this is it. This means less time in the basement. More time for you to spend with your family, which I’m sure Sasha will be happy with.”

He leans back in his chair and gives me a moment to think about it. “So, what do ye say? I really can’t do without you.”

Crow has always been there for me. Has always had my best interests in mind. Even though his focus is keeping the syndicate afloat and running, his lads never fall by the wayside. I told him I wanted to do other things. Take on more responsibility. And this is my opportunity to do so. To prove to Sasha I can be the man she needs. The man our child needs.

“Aye.” I give him my answer with a nod.

A smile cracks across his face and he slaps me on the back.

“Grand,” he says. “That’s just grand, Fitzy. We’ll swear you in this evening.”

“What about Sasha?” I ask.

Crow makes a gesture to Conor who scrambles out the door to retrieve the barrister who’s still waiting outside. He comes and takes a place at the table, and we get down to business.

“Sasha.” Crow looks to him. “What do we need to do to keep her safe?”

“At this stage,” he says. “It’s best she stays wherever she is. Once all of this has blown over, she can come back. But right now they can’t use her against you if they don’t know where she is.”

I nod, because I suspected as much. But his next words catch me off guard.

“I’d also recommend you two get married, sooner rather than later,” he says. “So for future situations such as these, you have spousal privilege to fall back on.”

Crow looks to me and smirks. “Told ye to make an honest woman of her, Fitz.”

I shrug, but even I can’t hide the smile on my face this time. All of the lads are looking at me like I’ve gone mad. I doubt they’ve ever seen me smile before.

After the meeting wraps up, they filter out of the room and I stay behind with Crow. He probably suspects I want to speak with him in private. I do, but it’s not about the matter at hand like he thinks.

He pours us both another drink and then gives me his attention.

“I need a baby,” I tell him.

He’s silent for a long while, tipping back the glass in his hand and downing the liquor inside it. “I’m not sure I heard ye correctly,” he says. “In fact, I’m sure I didn’t.”

“For practice,” I explain.

Now he’s looking at me like I’ve gone mad as well.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t do with some too,” I argue. “When’s the last time you were even around a wee baby?”

He shrugs. “I haven’t a clue, Fitz.”

“Aye.” I nod. “So find us a baby.”

Chapter Forty-Four

Sasha

A
month has passed since I’ve been holed up at Alexei’s. And I’m not at all happy with it, but I know that Ronan is keeping me safe until everything blows over. I haven’t been able to see him as much since Alexei’s house is so far out of the city and he’s taken on the new role of Underboss.

He assured me that the extra hours aren’t going to last forever, but just during the transition. He also assured me that this new role is going to be better for us. And while I was hesitant at first to know he was becoming even more deeply embedded into the syndicate, now I’m inclined to agree.

This change means he won’t be out on the streets, putting himself at risk every day. He’ll be handling business in the club and the men who work beneath him. And he won’t be spending so much time in the basement which is what I really care about.

I know who Ronan is and I’m not going to ask him to change. I wouldn’t want him to change. But I want him to know something besides violence. Besides blood. I want him to know what it’s like to have a different sort of family. One besides the mafia.

Already, I see the differences in him. His priorities have changed. And when he shows up here in the middle of the night, his face tired and drawn, he’s doing it for me. He could go home. But he told me once, in a sleepy murmur, that his home is here with me. Wherever I am that’s where he’ll be too.

The simplicity of his statement was so honest that he didn’t understand how much those words could ever mean to me.

When I wake up this morning and find him with his leg tossed over me, keeping me in place, I smile. He never sleeps in, but it’s past ten already, and here he is, still out like a light. I roll into him and graze his throat with my lips.

He groans and then his sleepy brown eyes flutter open. He’s still barely coherent, but already he’s kissing me back, grinding his hips into me. Ronan always takes me in the morning. And often when he gets home at night too, regardless of how tired he is. Sometimes, we even find each other in the middle of the night, in a dead sleep. Our bodies are bringing us together before our minds ever catch up to it.

This morning though, there’s another change in him as he flips me over and moves inside of me. He’s no longer rushed or out of control, but slow and gentle. His eyes are on mine, soft and filled with possession.

When I convulse around him, he ceases all movement. His breath is halted, his biceps and neck corded and taut. He’s nervous for some reason. Which he hasn’t been for a while now. But one thing I’ve learned with Ronan is that he usually takes a while to process things, and then they come up later unexpectedly.

“What is it?” I reach up and touch his face. He leans into my hand and closes his eyes.

“Sasha…” his voice cracks.

And then he’s fucking me again. It’s hard and fast now. His face is buried in my neck, and I’m cupping the back of his head, holding him against me. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I also know not to push him. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.

And as it turns out, that’s right after he releases himself on a long, painful groan inside of me. I’m still filled with him, kissing his neck when he blurts out what’s on his mind.

“Would ye have me as your husband?”

My hands stop moving, my breath sputters, and I stare up at him in shock.

“Are you…” I croak. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Aye,” he says carefully.

His brows are scrunched together, and he isn’t blinking. At all. He’s so worried I’m going to say no that he keeps looking for tells. He doesn’t need them because I put him out of his misery quickly and without hesitation.

“Yes, Ronan.”

“Yes?” he questions. “You will?”

I nod. But he still doesn’t look convinced, so I kiss him to seal the deal. He gets so into it that he seems to forget his disbelief, which is exactly what I intended. And that’s that.

He collapses beside me and pulls me into the crook of his arm. I nuzzle into him and breathe in his scent, my eyes fluttering shut in the safe haven he provides.

“Sasha?”

“Hmm?” I murmur sleepily against him.

“I don’t know how I ever had the good fortune to find you.”

***

When I wake up again, Ronan is gone. I suspect he probably had business in the city since that’s usually where he goes. But then I hear a noise coming from down the hall. I swear I might be going crazy because it sounds like a baby.

I pad down the hall, following the sound of gibberish that’s coming through a cracked door. And when I open it, I find the last thing I ever thought I’d see in my entire life.

Ronan and Lachlan are both hunched over a table, staring at the baby on top of it like they’re trying to work out a puzzle of some sort. Alexei is supervising from the side as is Daisy from down below.

“No, see these little flips go like so,” Ronan says as he points at the diaper on the table.

“I don’t think they do, Fitz,” Crow argues. “They don’t stay like that.”

“Maybe you could tape them,” Alexei offers.

I clear my throat from the door, and all three of them look at me like deer in the headlights. Ronan’s cheeks flush, and so do Lachlan’s. Something I never in a million years thought he was capable of. I just caught the boss and the underboss of the Irish mob blushing over a baby.

“Um, guys…” I point at the half naked little boy laying on the center of the table. “You might want to do something about that before…”

A stream of pee flies up into the air and hits Lachlan on the arm. He stares down at it with a bewildered expression and then him and Ronan are scrambling to put the diaper on.

“Get me the tape,” Ronan yells out to Alexei like it’s a state of emergency.

“Do you want some help?” I ask them.

“No,” both of them say together. And then Ronan adds, “we need to sort this out on our own.”

I stifle a smile and slip quietly out the door. Although I’d very much like to stay and witness the rest of the stooges in all their glory, I have a feeling Ronan is attempting to take this very seriously. He’s nervous about being a father. And the fact that he’s practicing with Lachlan is pretty much testament to that.

Three hours later, I find him passed out in a chair downstairs with Daisy bundled up in his arms. Her head is lolled to the side, her tongue hanging out of her mouth while she snores against his chest. I retrieve my phone from my pocket and snap a photo of the moment before he can wake.

And when I stare at the screen with a huge stupid smile on my face, this is how I know he’s going to be a good father.