by V Vee
Apparently, “The Irishman” didn’t wait for people to pick up the phone. He just fucking showed up.
“This isn’t over,” Zander growled as he pushed himself to his feet again, and with a hand to his side where I’d kicked him, he rushed out the front door, and jumped into the towncar that was still idling outside. They pulled away only seconds before a police car and a black SUV squealed into the driveway of my family home.
I rolled my eyes as two men climbed from each vehicle, each of them just as wide and muscled as I was.
“You guys sure know how to ruin a fucking good time, don’t you?” I groused, before I turned around and walked into the house, slamming the door behind me. I was pretty sure they were going to follow me inside, but I didn’t care in that moment. I’d hoped to watch the life drain from Zander’s eyes that day…
Just before I went and fucked my woman.
Eh, it wasn’t a problem. It was a dream deferred, not destroyed.
The Home (Mansion) of Kynan and Ava McCarthy
Heaven’s Sister and Her Husband
Baltimore, MD
Later That Afternoon
Eddie
I wasn’t exactly sure what I was expecting when I went to the home that Heaven used to live in with her sister, Ava. I mean, I’d heard from Logan and Parker that Ava had gotten married and moved into her new husband’s place. I’d even heard that Heaven had her own place. But maybe I was feeling nostalgic. Or maybe I just wanted to be sure that they weren’t there any longer.
Or maybe I wanted to see if I could a fucking clue about what led Heaven into the arms of the man who’d been my best friend eight years ago.
The motherfucker who tried to kill me earlier.
I mean, granted, I’d known that when Zander and I saw each other again, someone was going to end up losing their life, I’d just never expected Zander to be the one to try and take mine.
I shook my head as I climbed out of my midnight blue 2020 Jaguar XE™. I fixed the fit of my dark blue suit jacket and ran the palms of my hands over my hair, and my jaw, making sure I looked presentable. Growing up, Ava had only ever seen me in our school uniform, or in casual wear. I’d been a kid then. A knuckle-headed boy sniffing around after her sister. But things were different now.
I was a man who’d come to get his woman.
I reached back inside of my car, picked up the two different bouquets of a dozen roses, one pink and the other red.
Before my mother had passed away, she’d made sure to impart in me manners, and the seriousness of never showing up to anyone’s house empty-handed. It was something I’d always remembered and more than once I’d shown up to a buddy’s place holding a 12-pack of beer, or even a deck of cards. It was a little difficult to get Blue Moon™ delivered out in the Afghani desert.
I rang the doorbell and released a long, slow breath in an attempt to calm my nerves.
Ava’s husband, Kynan McCarthy, had an extremely nice house. Or mansion. It was at least four stories, with—I would say—about ninety acres or so. There looked to be a gazebo in the backyard, decorated in roses of various colors, a manmade lake was off in the distance, and a maze, which appeared to be guarded.
I wonder what goes on in there that it needs security.
Had I not known who the McCarthys were I would have been a little worried for Heaven’s older sister. There were a number of cars in the driveway, all of them appeared to be brand new, or classic cars lovingly restored. Tall, cherry blossom trees surrounded the circular driveway, and I’d already clocked about ten guards walking around the front of the property. It gave me a measure of peace to know that Ava and my Heaven were protected while I’d been away.
But I was home now. Ava had her husband, and Heaven had me.
The door opened and a pair of hazel eyes looked up at me from a tiny, light birchwood-colored face. Tight, blonde and brown curls surrounded the little girl’s face, and when she smiled at me, revealing no more than six teeth in her mouth, my heart clenched in my chest. She looked so much like Heaven, that my breath caught in my lungs.
Was this my—
“Aoife! What did your father and I tell you about opening the door?” Ava’s voice, sounding full of fond exasperation sounded from further into the house. It was only in that moment that my ears picked up on the cacophony of sound coming from inside the house. It was as if there was a theme park, or a park inside with the number of young, childlike voices I heard from within.
How long was I fucking gone?
Ava stepped to the door, her dark brown eyes lit up with surprise, then happiness, and… relief when she saw me. I took a moment to catalogue the woman who’d been more than the big sister to the young woman I’d been in love with in high school. Ava had been like a big sister, or really, a mother, to me the entire four years I’d known her before deploying. I’d missed her almost as much as I’d missed Heaven.
Ava was still a statuesque beauty. She stood at 5’10, her arms were toned, her calves—which could be seen beneath the tight black leggings that she wore—gave testament to her workout routine. Her thighs were still thick, though they did appear a little shapelier. As did the rest of her. Though I hadn’t “checked out” Ava when I’d known her before, I’m still a man, and I knew—without lingering over her appearance—that Ava’s breasts had grown. No doubt it could be attributed to the little girl at the door, the little boy she held in her arms, and her very round belly. Ava’s hair, which had changed to suit her mood, was now in short, tight curls, dyed dark brown and honey blonde. Her face was makeup free, but with her wide nose, full lips, slanted, dark brown eyes, high cheekbones, and long slender neck, she was still beautiful. In addition to her black leggings, Ava was wearing an oversized purple shirt, no doubt to be loose on her pregnant belly. She laughed and held out her free arm to me.
“Edward Steele, as I live and breathe! It’s about time your dumbass got home from Afghanistan,” she said with a wide grin.
“Hey A,” I greeted and stepped into her embrace. Though it wasn’t holding Heaven, just hugging Ava soothed a part of me I was unaware was hurt and broken. It wasn’t exactly coming fully home, but it was definitely pulling up into the driveway.
“Iffen I didn’t know who ye were, ye would have two to yer head right now,” a low, deep voice, with a thick Irish brogue drawled out from somewhere behind me. I spun around, putting Ava and her children behind me, my hand going automatically for the .32 I’d placed at my back. Ava’s hand on my wrist stopped me.
That and the two Sig Sauer P226s™ pointed directly at me from the fullback sized, ginger-haired man who’d come up behind me, quieter than any man his size had the right to be. A thick, red beard covered his face, his red hair blew in the wind, it had to be past his shoulders. His green eyes twinkled with mirth and an edge of danger. While he thought it was funny that I’d been prepared to pull a gun to protect Ava and her children, he was also serious about taking me out if need be. Which meant he could only be one person.
Kynan McCarthy.
I released my gun and spread my arms wide at my hips, in a gesture of apology and surrender—of sorts.
“Kynan… I apologize. I had no idea…”
Kynan waved me off. “Aye, ‘tis fine you pulled yer gun. Makes me feel good about ye bein’ around my wife and kids. Knowin’ ye would fuck up anyone who dared to get close.” Kynan’s accent was thick, much thicker than that of his brother, Galvin, whom I’d met with briefly that morning.
“Oh, Ky, cut it out with the scary Irish mob voice,” Ava huffed from behind me, and I turned to look at her to see her rolling her eyes. She shook her head at me. “He has a brogue, but it’s nowhere near that thick.”
“Love, must you go and embarrass me in front of the boy? It’s our first meeting,” Kynan responded, his voice still with a measure of an Irish brogue, but not as heavy as it had been. I chuckled and stepped out to shake hands with the man who’d become family.
“Eddie Steele.”
&nbs
p; “Aye, ye be Logan’s little brother.” Kynan nodded as he shook my hand. It was then that I deduced that Kynan’s accent came out whenever he was being threatening of speaking of anything to do with his family.
“Aye,” I responded, allowing my own Irish brogue to filter through. Though it wasn’t something readily apparent, Logan and I were half-Irish. Our mother had been born an Irish “Murphy” and had married a Scottish “Steele.” So while we hadn’t had any apparent ties to the Irish mob, my father had hinted to that possibility often enough that I wasn’t as surprised as I perhaps should have been that my brother had connected with the Irish mob here in Baltimore.
Kynan’s eyebrows raised. “I hear a bit of the clan in ye.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “My mother was a Murphy.”
Kynan’s eyes widened then, before a smile broke out across his face. “A Murphy you say?”
Before I could respond, however, the happy cries of multiple children sounded from behind me, and when I turned around, four children, two who appeared to be the same age as Aoife, came barreling down the hallway and towards Kynan.
“Papa!” They all yelled.
Ava and I stepped to the side and watched as everyone, but Aoife and the one Ava held in her arms, launched themselves at Kynan. He hugged them all, placing tender kisses on the tops of their heads, and asking them about their week, checking on school, or daycare, even inquiring as to their behavior for their mother.
I counted each small head and looked back at Ava, quirking an eyebrow.
She laughed.
“Triplets the first time: Aoife, Aine, and Aisling. Then we adopted Taio and his sister, Kinzi,” she pointed to the two half-Asian children who were receiving just as much love and attention as the others. Taio was older than all of the other children, I would put him at about ten, and Kinzi appeared to be only a year or so younger than him. “Then I had Darragh a little over a year ago. And of course…” She waved a hand in front of her rounded belly.
I shook my head. “Fuck, Ava. That’s uh… that’s a lot.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “You think I have a lot? I’m going to be having my last child in a few months. I’ll have seven, and two were adopted. I’m technically only on my third pregnancy. But my friend, Kyra?” She giggled and the sound made me smile. “I think her husband likes to keep her pregnant. She’s been pregnant and given birth every year since they met.” She leaned close to me. “They’ve been together for over ten years now.”
My eyes widened and I whistled. And while the conversation was fascinating, there was a reason I’d come by. I looked past Ava’s shoulder expecting to see Heaven appear. With all the commotion how could she not have come to investigate?
“She doesn’t live here anymore,” Ava’s words were soft and filled with apology.
I swung my gaze in her direction. “What do you mean she doesn’t live here anymore?”
Ava shrugged, before putting her son down so he could join in with the fun being had out in the driveway. I took note of the fact that every child, but Aoife, was down in the expansive yard playing with their father. “What do you think I mean, Eddie? She wasn’t going to live with me forever. Heaven is a grown-ass woman. She has her own place. Her own life. Her own… situations.” Ava sighed. “I can’t really say more, because it’s not my place, but… she’s not here.”
“Can you give me her address? I want to go see her—I need to see her, A,” I asked.
Ava nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment, before she nodded. “Let me get a piece of paper and a pen.”
She turned away and I fully expected Aoife to join her, instead the little girl stood in the doorway, her gaze fixed on her father, unwavering. The smile she’d had on her face upon opening the door for me, was gone, and in its place was an expression so cold I almost took a step back.
As if feeling his daughter’s focus on him, Kynan turned to look at her, and grinned.
“Still upset with me, wee one?” He asked with amusement in his tone. I wanted to warn him away, tell him to not poke the beast, but Aoife spoke.
“Aye,” she responded. “You took my teddy bear, Papa.”
Kynan nodded. “That I did. But only to fix it.” Then he reached into the brown, leather satchel I hadn’t noticed at his feet, and pulled out a ratty, black teddy bear who had two different eyes, one of them had been replaced with a large opal gem, which I knew doubled as a camera.
Hmmm. Interesting.
Aoife’s eyes went from cold and emotionless, to being filled with joy.
“Mr. Snuggles!” She cried out in happiness and raced forward to grab the stuffed animal.
I lifted my eyebrows at Kynan, and he laughed.
“All of my children are dangerous, Steele,” he informed me. “But Aoife is the one who takes after me the most. She is deadly and precise. It will serve her well as she grows up. But they are still my children, they are still kids, and while I want them safe, protected, and prepared, I also want them to be happy.” He lowered his voice. “You’d do well to remember that.”
Before I could question him further, Ava returned and held out a pink Post-It™.
“You didn’t get this from me. I don’t want my sister to hate me for interfering, but…” She shook her head.
I reached out and briefly gripped her shoulder in a gesture of care and reassurance. “It’s okay. She won’t be mad at you, A. I’m going to remind her that she belongs to me, and she’ll be grateful that you helped.”
And with that, I turned and walked back to my car, waving goodbye to the large family. I couldn’t wait to have the same thing with Heaven.
But first I had to sort out the mess she’d found herself in.
Chapter 3
Heaven’s Condo
Baltimore, MD
Heaven
I stomped angrily down the hallway of my condo—the third place I’d lived since leaving Ava and Kynan’s years before—after dealing with my disobedient child. A seven-year-old who thought she could talk back to me—an incorrect assumption which a pop to the mouth disavowed her of, quick—to answer the door where someone was knocking insistently.
“I’m coming! Hold your fucking horses,” I yelled at the door.
“You said a bad word!” Ashley screamed at me from her room.
“Mind your business, little girl!” I returned. I rolled my eyes and began to mutter to myself as I disengaged the locks on the door. “Don’t know who the hell she thinks she’s talking to. I’m a grown ass woman. If I want to use profanity in my goddamn house, then I will. Fuck out of here with all that noise. See? She been hanging around those fucking rich ass, disrespectful ass kids, and she thinks that shit is going to fly around here. It’s not. I’ll take another belt to her little biracial, looking like her daddy, ass.”
I jerked the door open, my lips prepared to release a barrage of fiery words, but my mouth fell open on a gasp when I saw who was standing on the other side.
“Zander? Are you okay?” I asked, as I took in his bruised, disheveled, and bloody appearance.
“Do I fucking look like I’m okay, Heaven?” He growled, before pushing past me. I turned to watch him, pushing down my matching ire, as I closed the door. I’d learned years ago that it did me no good to argue back with Zander. Doing so only meant him taking it out on me in some way. He didn’t hit me—he wasn’t stupid—but he’d done other things, had my bank accounts frozen, had me evicted from an apartment I wasn’t aware that he owned, and had my car repossessed the few times I’d upset him. I knew I was in a situation I needed to get out of, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to do that without making things worse. For me, Ashley, and indirectly for my sister and her family. Zander had not-so-subtly threatened to expose my brother-in-law and his family for their illegal business practices, and while I didn’t agree with what they did, Kynan and his brothers, their wives, and their children, were family. Zander wasn’t.
Yet.
And while my brother-in-law, Kynan, and
his brothers had all offered to help me get out of the relationship, it had been an offer they’d made at the beginning of our relationship. At the time it had all seemed innocent. Altruistic. However, the minute they’d found out Zander was an O’Sullivan, it was as if they’d been thirsty for his blood more than they were interested in helping me. And while Zander definitely deserved to have his ass kicked, he hadn’t done anything that warranted him being killed.
At least, not that I was aware of.
“Do you need me to get you something?” I asked softly as I approached the couch Zander had thrown himself down on, his Italian loafers resting in front of the coffee table, his blood staining the beige fabric he lay on. I grit my teeth, hating that I was going to have to either spend hours scrubbing it clean, or get the couch reupholstered.
“No, Heaven. I want you to sit there and watch me lay here in pain, bleeding all over your goddamn couch,” Zander growled.
“Watch how you’re talking to me, Zander. I’m just trying to help.”
Moving with a quickness I’d never have expected of a man who spent most of his time either sitting behind a desk, building up “gym muscles” in the exercise facility that sat on the bottom floor of the home he owned, or off sleeping around with women who were not me, Zander had me pinned to the wall next to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room by my shirt. I gasped and stared at him in surprise. While Zander had no problem talking down to me, cursing at me, having sex with me when I wasn’t entirely engaged, he’d never—not once—put his hands on me in a threatening or a violent way.
True fear flooded my body, causing my fingers to numb, my mouth to go dry, and my heart to pound in my chest. I couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t because he was cutting off my oxygen, it was purely from shock, from fear…