Page 59 of Mob Bride

“Thank you. I can’t go back to the apartment I was in, but my gun and badge are in the safe, and I tucked my go bag into a nook I made at the back of my closet. There’s a false wall to make it seem shallower than it is. I can’t leave that stuff behind. It’s inevitable they’ll discover it’s false paneling in the closet, and they’ll crack the safe if they’re given enough time. The moment they find my badge, there’s no way Bartlomiej won’t enforce the hit he put on me.

“I’ll get it.”

Seamus offers, but his brother shakes his head. Cormac shoots Carrie a quick smile before looking back at Seamus.

“No, you’ve got stuff going on with Tiernan. I’ll do it.”

What Cormac didn’t say is he’s the only completely unattached guy in the family now, so he has less to lose than any of us. I’d offer to do it, but I feel like I need to stay with Carrie more than I need to be away from her to find that stuff.

“I left my purse in Tymoteusz’s car. It has nothing in there that can incriminate me, but I don’t have the keys to my place anymore.”

Cormac grins. “That’s never stopped me before.”

We all own professional lock picking kits, which are illegal in New York. It was among the first skills we gained when we started our training. We didn’t start carrying knives until we turned twelve, but we got our lock picking sets when we were eight and started practicing, so we were experts by the time we started going on missions when we were fourteen or fifteen. Those were petty crimes. Legit missions where there was a good likelihood we’d die didn’t start until we were sixteen. Such a fucked-up life we lead.

I can’t avoid letting Carrie know those pieces of my history. They aren’t ones I wish to share, and I’m certain realizing how young I started will bother her, but there’s no way to undo the past.

“I’ll take Carrie to my place. Let me know when you have everything, Cor.”

I live in Douglaston, here in Queens. It’s an upscale place, and I love living away from the hustle and bustle of the city. All five boroughs—Queens, Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, and Staten Island—are technically “the city,” but that phrase really means Manhattan. I like the residential feel.

Only Finn lived in what most of us would consider Manhattan. He was in SoHo before he got married. The other guys were in East Harlem or Brooklyn. Harlem’s on Manhattan Island, but it’s not downtown—or rather below the Upper East and Upper West Sides. It has its own feel. Its own vibe, separate from places like SoHo.

Now both my brothers and two of my cousins live here in Forest Hills. Carrie had just as equal a chance of stumbling upon one of my brothers’ or cousins’ houses or another bratva or anyMafia house as she did Misha’s. It was just happenstance she found Misha instead of one of us. When we get to my car, I open the door for her, but she turns to look at me.

“Shane, thank you for everything you’re doing for me. I hate putting you in this position.”

“It’s not your fault, Carrie. Perhaps it’s fate that we met when we did. It might not have been the most convenient timing, but it is what it is, and I’m glad we met.”

“So am I, but you can understand why I don’t love the danger I’m putting you in.”

This seems like as good a time as any to explain what it would really be like being with me.

“Cailín, get in, and we’ll talk on the way to my place.”

I close the door behind her and walk around to my side. As I open the door, I take a deep breath, girding my loins.

“Being with me puts you in danger you couldn’t imagine, so it’s something we must discuss.”

I glance over at her as I pull out of Dillan’s driveway.

“A few years ago, my uncle led our family, and he made some shite choices that changed the landscape of being in a syndicate in New York. He broke the cardinal rule that women and children arenotto be involved. He went after a bratva wife, and he died for it. His cousin, Declan, decided he would change the line of inheritance. It was always the plan that Dillan would step into the role as boss whenever Uncle Donovan died. But Dillan was so pissed at how things went down with Uncle Donovan, he took the only vacation he’s ever had alone.”

Anger and grief war within me, and I’d rather not tell this story. But Carrie needs to understand because she has a choice to make. Accept what I tell her and stay with me or learn the truth and walk away.

“In that time, Declan seized control and made things even worse by retaliating against the bratva for them retaliatingagainst us. He lived the same fate as Uncle Donovan. We just made him an easier target to catch beforehand. We made sure he physically couldn’t get away. He was in no condition to defend himself before we handed him over. Normally, we wouldn’t turn on our own, and we wouldn’t let the bratva think they beat us by being the ones to end Declan’s worthless fecking life, but he deserved what he got. He had a thin hold on his position as mob boss, so he wanted to prove he had real control over the family.”

My hands tighten around the steering wheel until my knuckles are white. Anger and grief have become allies, and they nearly defeat me.

“He ordered hits on my mom and aunts. Before he could call them off, he died for his sins. That didn’t prevent a mercenary from confusing Dillan’s little sister, Colleen, for Seamus and Cormac’s mom. Dillan was with Colleen when a hired gun shot her straight through the forehead. She was a veterinarian who specialized in rescuing abused animals. She’d just adopted a puppy, and she and Dillan were taking it back to her place.”

I swallow the sour bile that rises in my throat. I blink away the tears that always come when I think about this.

“Colleen was the sweetest, funniest, naughtiest kid you could have ever met, and she stayed exactly the same as we grew up. She was the true ringleader in the family. She got us into as much trouble as she could, but she got us out of most of it, too. She had these dimples you couldn’t ignore. They made her look so angelic even when she was being a little devil. Cormac and Seamus always escaped getting in trouble. Even though all our parents knew they were involved, they slipped away before anyone noticed. However, Colleen was their judge, jury, and executioner. She made sure they got their fair share of justice.”

We pull up to a light, and I close my eyes for a moment to compose myself.

“The bratva believed they were the victims in the shitshow Uncle Don and Declan caused, but they weren’t. The two bratva wives who were targets survived Donovan and Declan, but Colleen didn’t. It was because of our own family that we lost her. It’s not open season on women and children, but they don’t enjoy the protections they used to. I can’t guarantee you wouldn’t be a target at some point. I don’t want that to be the case, but it certainly could be.”

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