The After Party (A Badboys Boxset)

by Karr, Kim

  Minutes later, Declan hopped in the Rover and pulled out his phone. “I asked around. The only place Tommy has been seen lately besides Lucy’s is down at the docks in Southie.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll start.“ I pulled out of the driveway and drove around for a bit to make sure I didn’t have a tail. I was pretty certain the last time I’d left the waterfront I was being followed, and now I was almost certain it was Agent Blanchet who had been on my tail that night. She knew way more about what I’d been doing the past week than I’d let on.

  When I didn’t see anyone behind me, I headed for the Seaport District. I was going to find Tommy Flannigan if I had to turn over every square inch of the place. The motherfucker could be hiding in an abandoned warehouse like a rat for all I knew. I didn’t care. I’d flush him out. He was going to be mine—no matter where he was.

  It was still dark when I took the streets one at a time, weaving through them, up and down, all the way from the channel to the river. The ice had melted in the water, but it kept its mucky winter shade. There wasn’t much activity this late and there was no sight of him. It was time to hoof it, so I parked near the Boston Fish Pier. “Where the fuck do we start?” I asked Declan.

  We had less than three hours before dawn at the most and I knew if I didn’t find him tonight, I never would. It was too easy to hide in the city in the daytime. And come nightfall tomorrow, he’d be long gone. It was no use going to Lucy’s—the strip club was where the drugs had been found, and the police were swarming there.

  Declan’s phone had been going off like crazy. He’d put feelers out everywhere. I couldn’t believe how well connected he was. Someone said he’d seen Tommy walking down Seaport Boulevard hours ago. We headed down that way, pulling on every warehouse door we could to see if any were loose or had recently been broken into. It was crazy, but as kids, we did this all the time. We’d come down here and wedge open the doors to the warehouses and scare the shit out of anyone who followed us inside. It was a game. I’d played it. Tommy had played it. So had Declan. Back then Southie was also a dump, though, and there were a shit-ton of abandoned buildings. Not so many anymore.

  For over an hour Declan and I walked on opposite sides of the streets, up and down the docks, and through alleys. The wind was brutal and it was cold, so I’d pulled my hood up long ago. Lost in my thoughts, I kept walking, searching, pulling on doors, looking behind garbage cans, peering into smaller alleyways, checking out the homeless to see if Tommy was pretending to be one of them.

  “Hey, man.”

  Declan’s voice grabbed my attention and I looked across the street at him as he came jogging toward me.

  “He’s at the fucking Seaport Hotel.”

  My heart pounded. “No fucking way. I thought he’d checked out.”

  “Miles just called. A buddy of his in security has been on the lookout and spotted him about an hour ago. Checked in under some alias, but he’s there. Room 510.”

  I started moving backwards and pointed my finger at Declan. “Take the Rover and go back to my old man’s. I’ll meet you there later.”

  “No way, man. You’re not going there alone.”

  I shook my head, still pointing. “I don’t want you involved any further. You’ve done enough for now. Don’t follow me. Just go.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  “Declan, you have to leave. I can’t take the chance of you getting caught up in something dangerous.”

  He stood there motionless.

  “Please, man.” My voice was pleading and I think he got what I was saying. My conscience couldn’t handle it if he got marked or worse if he got killed in the crossfire.

  He said nothing.

  I took that as an okay and turned around and started running. The hotel wasn’t far, and it would be faster to get there on foot than heading all the way back to my vehicle anyway.

  It was almost dawn by now and the early morning sky was just erupting. To everyone else I looked like I was out for a run, not on a mission to confront Tommy Flannigan and—and what? That was the question, wasn’t it? Do I sell my soul to the devil and kill the motherfucker? I decided not to go there in my mind right now. One step at a time—first I had to find him.

  It was the longest fucking ten minutes of my life, but finally the Seaport Hotel was in sight. I strode through the lobby like I belonged there, hit the up arrow at the bank of elevators, and casually stepped into one when the doors opened. Beneath my calm exterior I was screaming, because my time of reckoning had finally come.

  I stabbed the button for the fifth floor and the elevator seemed to crawl up to it. In the hallway, it felt a little surreal. I glanced down and was shocked to see my white knuckles and the ropes of muscle straining against the backs of my hands. I shook off any doubt. I had no choice but to do this. I’d use my fists. If I beat him to a pulp and he didn’t recover, I couldn’t be charged with premeditated murder. The law was flashing through my mind. Murder in the first degree. Voluntary manslaughter. Involuntary manslaughter. It didn’t matter; all would come with a prison term.

  If I killed this motherfucker tonight I was going to be without Elle in my life. If I didn’t, if I turned around right now, I was going to have to let her go.

  It was a lose-lose situation all the way around. But the come and get me if you dare note Tommy had sent me was sent for a reason, and I was going to find out what that reason was.

  My strides were long. Room 500, 502, 504, 506, 508, and finally 510. Focused on the gold numbers, I reached my destination in less than three seconds.

  Without even thinking about it, I lifted my leg and kicked the door in, throwing the entire weight of my body into it. Luckily, this hotel was old and so were the doors.

  Barreling into the room, I was shocked when I saw him. I had to remind myself that this time I wasn’t going to be held down by three men while he wielded his knife at me.

  Yes, it had been a very long time since we were face-to-face, and there he was, looking the same. Like time had never passed. His eyes met mine with a dare, a come-and-get-me, and then he scampered from the bed to the floor in less than a heartbeat. On his feet, he stumbled backwards. “It’s been a long time,” he snickered.

  I clenched my teeth and drew in a breath to calm the fury surging through my veins. “Not long enough.”

  “You got my note?”

  My blood started to pump so fast that I could hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. “I did. But you already know that. Why else would I be here?”

  That grin was back. “A friendly chat between old friends.”

  “Fuck you,” I spat.

  He shook his head. “Not one to let bygones be bygones?”

  Ignoring the shit spewing from his mouth, I rushed forward and slammed my fist into his face. “What do you want from me?”

  He bounced off the wall and I grabbed his shoulders before he slumped to the ground. Kneeing him in the gut, hitting him hard enough to lift his feet off the floor, I then let him tumble down. “We need to talk,” he managed.

  With his face on the floor, I placed my foot on his back and pressed.

  He yelped like a dog.

  “Talk!” I barked out.

  “Let me turn around.”

  Easing my foot away, I stepped back but kept my gun pointed.

  Slowly, he turned over and wiped the blood from his mouth.

  “I’m waiting,” I sneered.

  Instead of talking, he lunged for the gun that was sticking out from under the mattress.

  Motherfucker.

  “Freeze!” someone shouted.

  “Hands up, now!” someone else yelled.

  My eyes darted to the door. Agent Blanchet was standing in the doorway with a swarm of agents surrounding her.

  No effing way.

  She walked over to me. “I want you out of here.”

  I stared at her.

  “Now, McPherson. Don’t make me take you in and then process paperwork to get you out, be
cause that will really piss me off.”

  Tommy never made it to his gun, but his laughter made my ears ring. He was off the floor in cuffs in two seconds flat. Surrounded by five agents, there was nothing I could do to get to him.

  “Now,” Agent Blanchet repeated and started shoving me out of the room.

  I wanted to deck her but knew that would get me nowhere. With slow strides, I headed for the door.

  “Hey!” Tommy hissed.

  I turned around.

  “Don’t think that girl of yours is any safer with me behind bars. If you were a good boy and followed the rules, there wouldn’t be an issue. Would there? So for her sake, you will stay away from her now because you know I have eyes, and hands, and a few hundred dicks, everywhere.”

  “You motherfucking piece of shit,” I growled and lunged for him.

  “Get him out of here.” Blanchet’s voice was loud as she pointed toward Tommy.

  Hands were holding me back and a weird rush of fear washed through me as I watched Tommy being dragged out of the room.

  It was like time stood still and I couldn’t move.

  I had no idea how much time passed or when whoever was holding onto me had released their grip but when I blinked, I realized the room was quiet. I looked around.

  Agent Blanchet was the only one in the room and she was staring at the doorway. “You can come in,” she said.

  As if everything were happening in slow motion, I glanced toward the direction of her voice.

  In the doorway was Declan. “Sorry, man, I had to follow you. I wasn’t letting you go it alone.” He pointed to Blanchet. “Turns out, she’d been following us and she nabbed me in the lobby before I could make it to you. She forced me to tell her what room you were in.”

  Fuck, I knew she’d been on me. I should have been even more careful.

  “Good thing he fessed up quickly.” Her voice was like cold steel.

  My eyes darted to hers, and they were swimming with that same cold steel.

  “Listen, McPherson, you’re walking a very thin line. My patience is wearing down.”

  I scrubbed my hand down my face. “What the fuck more do you want from me?”

  She glared at me like I should fucking know.

  And I did know. I just hoped to fuck she didn’t know. Know what I’d done—that I’d committed a felony.

  Finally, she spoke. “You should have called me when you found out where Tommy was. I don’t want to have to put a tail on you every fucking time I suspect you know more than you’re telling me.”

  I stared at her blankly because thank God, she didn’t know that I’d relocated the drugs.

  “Next time you pull something like this, I’m going to haul your ass in.” She pointed to herself. “I’m the law, not you. Do you understand me?”

  I nodded but tuned everything else out.

  This whole thing had just gotten so much worse.

  Even behind bars, Tommy wasn’t going to leave Elle alone. As if I hadn’t already known it, he’d told me so himself. And now there was nothing I could do about it.

  Elle and I had just forged some kind of commitment and I was going to be forced to break it.

  What had happened tonight?

  So much.

  Way too much.

  It was hard to believe that just hours ago I’d crossed the line an attorney should never cross. I’d tampered with evidence. In truth, I’d committed a felony by relocating a shitload of cocaine that had since been confiscated, and people in connection to it arrested.

  Not just people.

  My enemies. My foes.

  Patrick.

  His crew.

  Now Tommy.

  And I had put them there.

  I should be happy.

  I wasn’t.

  I also should be worried about what would happen to me.

  I wasn’t.

  The only thing on my mind right now was, what am I going to do to make sure Elle stays safe?

  Because I was screwed.

  Although a lot of the Blue Hill Gang members had been arrested, not all of them had been locked up. There were too many of them. And besides, some would be out on bail within hours. I also knew Tommy was into something else, something drug related, and those connections would go beyond jail. I was certain he would reach out to them as soon as he could.

  The fact was—I couldn’t keep Elle safe.

  Not always.

  Something could happen to her if I stayed with her.

  Maybe something bad.

  Chills ran through me.

  Something like what Tommy had done before to Kayla, a girl I was casually seeing, the girl I made the mistake of bringing back to Boston one weekend, or like what he had done recently to Elle’s employee and friend, Peyton. Although I had no proof, I was certain Tommy had caught a glimpse of Peyton and me together on the street and then later attacked her, sending her to the hospital with an E carved in her stomach.

  An E I had wrongly believed was meant to remind me of his dead sister, Emily. Emily, the girl I’d made the mistake of fucking when I was fifteen, which subsequently led to a teen pregnancy and ultimately to her suicide. That event had not only changed my life, but my father’s and grandfather’s lives as well.

  Back then, Emily’s father had been the head of the Dorchester Heights Gang, a smaller Irish Mob, and he wanted to be top dog, but my paternal grandfather had held that position in the Blue Hill Gang. The situation I inadvertently created gave Emily’s father the ammunition he needed to make his move and ascend his rank.

  Patrick Flannigan was ruthless.

  The rule on the street was “A life for a life,” and he demanded obedience.

  Regardless of the circumstances, as a consequence of my actions, my father had been providing his legal services to Patrick for the past twelve years. In exchange for my life my father traded his life in service for Emily’s death.

  A life for a life.

  But that wasn’t enough for Patrick. He wanted more. The details behind my grandfather’s dissent from power were sketchy, but eventually my grandfather handed over his leadership, his gang, to Patrick.

  This went against code. This wasn’t a life for a life. But the situation was grave and my family did what they needed to do to protect me.

  Patrick didn’t follow the rules, and neither did his son.

  Where did this leave me now?

  Right where I knew it always would. Having to do what I didn’t want to do—listen to Tommy’s threat and disassociate myself from Elle. It was absolutely the best solution.

  “Hey, man, you okay?”

  I looked at Declan. Tried to focus. But couldn’t. That weird rush of fear I’d felt earlier was suddenly paralyzing.

  “We need to go. Agent Blanchet said you had five minutes to get out of here.”

  I looked around. He was the only one left in the room. “Yeah, yeah, right. Do you think I could crash at your place for a few hours?”

  Confusion furrowed his brow. “Yeah, sure, but what about Elle? She’s at your old man’s.”

  “Miles will bring her home when she wakes up.”

  “What are you doing, man? What are you thinking?”

  With my heart feeling like it was in sharp, jagged pieces, I forced myself to say it out loud. “I can’t be with her. Not right now.”

  His confusion mounted. “What are you talking about?”

  “I can’t let her think she’s safe with me because the truth is . . . she’s anything but.”

  The disappointed look on his face couldn’t be hidden. “So what? You’re going to walk away from her just like that?”

  I nodded. Yeah, yeah I was.

  For now.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DAY 10

  ELLE

  I was on a train.

  It was moving fast.

  Out the window the earth met the sky, and the two blended together in one giant blur. In the haze, the phrase Catch him if you can seemed to etch itsel
f on the glass beside me. The words were so few that you’d think the thunderous sound of the wheels hitting the track would have drowned them out by now. But no, instead they just kept repeating themselves over and over in my mind.

  A phrase I couldn’t seem to escape.

  Catch him if you can.

  Catch him if you can.

  Catch him if you can.

  No matter how hard I tried to block out the words, I couldn’t.

  It sounded more like the title of a movie than a mantra that had me going on some crazy quest. I could practically visualize the theatrical release poster in my mind. It was as if I had seen it before.

  A finely built man with long legs, running, wearing a suit—no, not a suit, a pair of track pants, Converse sneakers, sunglasses, and maybe a knit hat—being chased by a woman. The woman had ginger-colored hair. She was tall but not nearly as tall as him. The image was blurry. It didn’t matter, though, because I could still tell who it was—it was me, and I was running after Logan.

  Except I wasn’t going to do that.

  I’d vehemently told myself so.

  Told myself I had to let him go.

  And yet, somehow I found myself on the train headed to New York City with the events of the past two days replaying in my mind until I felt like they were actually taking place all over again.

  The sun shining in his bedroom window wasn’t what had woken me. I’d been awake for hours. Waiting. Wondering. Pacing.

  Worried, I stared at the faint yellow beams of light.

  Where was he?

  It took me a minute to gather the courage to get out of bed. It was dawn and he wasn’t back. That wasn’t a good sign.

  I’d spent hours talking to his father during the night. If I thought I understood Logan before, now I understood him so much more. His father had told me a little about growing up the son of the mob boss, and how he’d tried to keep Logan away from that life. Killian had, too. Killian wanted the best for Logan and he knew the life he’d led wasn’t it. But then there had been Emily, her suicide, the aftermath, and the attack on Kayla. How Logan blamed himself. He had also told me how happy he was to see Logan with me, caring for someone, letting someone in, but he cautioned me—change didn’t happen overnight. The walls his son had built around himself would take a while to come down. And he asked me to be patient with Logan. I had agreed. Change, for either of us, wasn’t going to be easy. I’d spent the majority of my life avoiding relationships, not trusting men or my feelings. But what I felt for Logan was compelling, riveting, overwhelming. Fierce. And I didn’t want to let it go. Couldn’t.