Page 27 of Starting Over

I wouldn’t dance with the Devil as long as he stayed in hell. If he came to Nebraska, all bets were off. That line I straddled would become nonexistent if I needed to protect my family.

And I would protect my family, at all costs.

Even if it meant killing the only other family I had.

Chapter Seven

Maureen

I followed King out of the clubhouse to an SUV that was sitting in the parking lot. He opened the door for me, and I climbed in and waited for him to join me on the other side.

“So, the boss wants to marry you, huh?” he asked as he pulled through the open gate.

“Yea,” I sighed, watching the town pass by as I stared out the window.

“How long have you known him?”

“My whole life.”

As we drove to my new house, I got a glimpse of the town I planned to start over in. This wasn’t the new start I wanted. This was another fucking link that kept me chained to the Mob. I couldn’t stay here with Justin, ugh, Micah here.

“Has he always wanted to marry you?”

“I don’t think so. If he did, he could have.”

“What does that mean?”

“My parents arranged my marriage. Duane and I had grown up together. His dad was a captain like mine. They were close and decided to connect the two families.”

“So you were forced to get married?”

“Not forced exactly. Groomed, you could say.” It didn’t matter what I told him at this point. I couldn’t stay. “I grew up knowing my parents would pick a husband for me. It’s how things are done.”

I knew I would never get to marry the boy I wanted.

“But Blade’s mom didn’t marry someone picked for her, right?”

“No, Kara met Eduardo, and she said to hell with tradition. Her dad was a soldier, so it was a little different.”

“Did you love your husband?” King asked as we pulled down a dirt driveway.

“I did. Neither of us had a choice, but we decided early on we would make the best of it. We eventually fell in love.”

“When did Sal make it known he wanted to marry you?”

King pulled up in front of the house I had bought, but he didn’t turn off the engine. We sat for a few minutes, while I decided how to answer his question.

Looking over at King, I found him watching me. “If you’re asking whether Sal killed my husband, the answer is I don’t know. Do I suspect? Maybe, but if he did, it had more to do with the organization than it did me.”

Opening my door, I stepped out and looked over at the detached two-car garage. That wouldn’t be great in the winter when the snow fell, but at least Betty would be safe. It was close enough to the house that I could maybe connect them with a room. Looking at the house, I studied the porch that ran along the front.

A porch swing would be perfect.

As I looked around, a woman stepped out of the house and met me at the front door.

“Hi, Maureen. It’s great to meet you in person,” she greeted with a warm smile.

She was a beautiful woman. Her dark hair ended at her shoulders in a long bob. Unlike realtors in Boston, Kristy wasn’t dressed like she belonged on Wall Street. She wore a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and cowboy boots.

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