Page 72 of Crown of Smoke

I sit down knowing that if I don’t have a hot story, I’m probably out of a job. The good news is that I do have a hot story. I heard a confession from Superintendent Marshall about helping with and covering up the Ifrinn fire. I know who killed him.

“I… uh… I have some interesting new info about the Kean story, but I’m still needing to confirm?—”

“Really? Rumor is the Keans killed Superintendent Marshall, but the official story is a mugging. Surely, you have some thoughts on this.”

I nod. “Thoughts, yes, but nothing ready to print just yet.”

“What the hell have you been doing? You've been digging into the Keans for months. Now a dirty cop turns up dead right when you disappear? This could be the break we've been waiting for." He pulls out a notepad. "What did you find?"

Two weeks ago, I would have killed for this opportunity. Now…

"I can't write the story." The words come out barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean, you can't? This is exactly what you've been working toward. The Keans, their rise to power, their corruption of law enforcement, even I can see it's all connected." He taps his pen impatiently. "Give me something we can print."

"I…" My fingers drum against the chair arm as I search for the right words. "I actually uncovered something bigger. The Keans are just a piece of it."

His eyes light up, exactly as I knew they would. "I've been tracking money laundering through their legitimate businesses. Shell companies, fake contractors, the works." The lies flow easily, close enough to truth to be believable, far enough to keep the Ifrinns safe. "I can prove they're using their construction contracts to funnel dirty money through city projects."

He leans forward. "We can tie this directly to City Hall." The excitement on his face makes me feel sick. Here I am, protecting the very kind of people I've spent the last few months trying to expose. Men who kill in dark alleys. Men like Flint.

But then I remember the pain in his voice as he listed the names of his dead family members. The way he stepped between me and danger time after time. The way he looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world to him.

“I want the first draft by Friday, Ketchum.”

I force a confident smile even though I don’t have nearly enough facts to link the Keans to corruption at City Hall. “Yes, sir.”

As I walk back to my desk, I try to convince myself that I'm doing the right thing. A story about money laundering might not be as explosive as exposing the returned Ifrinn brothers. I can already hear Flint saying it’s just as dangerous, though.

That evening, I drag myself through my front door, exhaustion seeping into every cell of my body. On the way home from work, I made a stop at the drug store because I can’t put off knowing the truth about my nausea and missing period. I can’t keep blaming stress and poor eating habits.

I dig through my purse for the pregnancy test and take it to the bathroom. Five minutes. That’s all it takes to know whether my life is forever changed.

I pace the bathroom as I wait. That night in the fight club bathroom floods back. Flint's hands on my skin, his breath hot against my neck. No condom. If I am pregnant, that had to be the night it happened.

What if it's positive? What would that even mean? I'm carrying the baby of a man who murders people in alleys. A man whose entire family lived off crime and was murdered for it. A man whose singular goal in life is revenge.

The timer on my phone chimes, making me jump. I grab the test with trembling fingers but close my eyes, too afraid to look.

I peek one eye open, then the other.

PREGNANTappears in the little result window.

I sink to the side of the tub, the test slipping from my hand. Pregnant. I'm pregnant with Flint Ifrinn's baby.

I press my hand against my still-flat stomach, trying to process the reality. There's a life growing inside me. Flint's child. Our child.

A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. All those years of being careful, of putting my career first, and now I'm pregnant from unprotected sex in a fight club bathroom with a man who turned out to be part of the Irish Mob. God, truth really is stranger than fiction.

Conflicting emotions war inside me. Part of me, a part I didn't even know existed until this moment, feels an unexpected surge of joy. I'm going to be a mother. Despite everything else, that thought sends warmth through me.

But then reality crashes back in. The father of my child is a dangerous man who is locked in a deadly feud with one of Boston's most powerful crime families. Fear grips me as I imagine bringing a child into this world of violence and revenge. Would the Keans come after my baby if they knew? Would they use my child to hurt Flint?

And Flint… what would he think? A child doesn’t fit in his plans for sure. But then I think about his face when he talked about his family. There was love there. Despite his family’s vocation, Flint was raised with love. I think of Ash and all he told me about Flint, particularly wanting me to stay away from him. I don’t like his attitude, but I see he’s being protective of Flint because he loves him.

When I think of Flynn, my heart swells and I yearn to be near him. FlynnisFlint. They are the same man. Or are they? I can’t believe it, but despite everything, the lies, the violence, the revenge, I can't deny that I still have feelings for Flint. And now we're connected in the most permanent way possible.

I grab my phone and go to my bedroom, flopping down on the bed at a loss for what I should do. There’s only one person I can trust with all this. After three rings, my sister's familiar voice fills the line.

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