by Hamel, B. B.
“No,” I said. “Which one’s that again?”
“Tattoo on his chest that said, Only God Can Judge Me. Anyway, he’s dead, killed by a Valentino.”
My jaw clenched. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “Just last night. Can you believe it? I mean, he was a total asshole. He shoved me in the pool one time when I was twelve and showed me his dick when I was fourteen, and I’m pretty sure we’re actually related. Still, how many’s it been now?” She stared down at her feet.
I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said, but I knew it was a lot. The war with the Valentino family took its toll, and it felt like every week some new young man in the Healy family ended up dead. I didn’t know why Uncle Colm kept fighting and didn’t just try to make peace, since the Valentino family had way more territory and way more strength than we did, but he was stubborn, the old bastard.
I didn’t hate the Valentino family, not exactly. They murdered people I knew, but we also killed them. None of those dead boys were innocent, far from it. Most of them were violent assholes that put themselves in bad situations.
Still, the Valentino family was like a specter haunting my life, and just when I thought things were as bad as they could be, the Valentinos appeared to remind me that no, things could be much worse.
“I thought that’s why you wanted to talk,” Nessa said. “I guess I’m a little sad about it. His dick was sort of huge honestly.”
“Oh my god, Nessa.”
“What? I know he was my cousin, but whatever, he showed it to me.”
“Don’t talk like that about the dead.”
She snorted. “Should I lie then? Say he was a bright guy and really nice to animals? Desmond was a fucking asshole and an idiot and the world’s probably better off that he’s dead.” She paused then grinned. “But he did have a big dick.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. I felt a sudden pang of nervous energy rush over me as I stared out over at the boys playing basketball. They were all young, teenagers, probably high school guys. I bet half them would join the Healy family before they turned twenty, and half of those would be dead before thirty.
Just how it went in the mafia families.
“No, I needed to talk about something else.” I reached into my hoodie pouch and touched the pregnancy tests just to remind myself that they were there, and they were real.
“What’s up?” Nessa asked. “You look anxious. Paler than normal. You okay?”
“Honestly, Nessa, I’m not okay,” I said. “I’m very fucking not okay.”
She stopped swinging, frowning. “All right,” she said. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
I ripped the tests from my pouch and shoved them at her. She stared for a second then looked up at me.
“Uh. Did you piss on those?”
“Yes, and I put a cap on the tip so relax. Just look at them, okay?”
She took the tests, holding them like they were radioactive spiders, and frowned at the windows. “Oh my god,” she said, sucking in a breath. Her eyes went wide. “Oh my god, no.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re pregnant. You’re seriously pregnant?”
“I’m pregnant. I’m also dead. Me and Desmond, dead as hell. And I don’t have a big dick.”
“Oh my god!” She shoved the tests back at me. I took them as she jumped to her feet and started pacing. “Does your dad know? What about Uncle Colm? Does anyone know? Who’s the father? Does he know? Sam, you realize you’re fucked, right? I mean, like, really fucked, and not just fun fucked, but really bad fucked.”
“Okay, I know, I know. Slow down. I’m the pregnant one, you psycho.”
She glared at me. “You’re my best friend, Sam. You’re the only person that gives a shit about me in this whole world. I’m not too excited at the prospect of raising a baby with you.”
I barked a laugh. The idea of Nessa, the girl too squeamish to touch a pregnancy test, raising a baby and changing a diaper was almost too absurd.
“You’re not doing anything,” I said.
“Oh, please, what else are you going to do? Marry the poor fucker that shot his load up inside of you?”
I turned pink and glared at her. “Can you stop being a dick for once?”
“Fine, okay, fine.” She sucked in a breath and stopped pacing. “Who’s the guy?”
“I don’t really know him,” I admitted, staring down at my hands. “His name’s Matteo. I met him at one of those Healy parties. You know, the fancy ones.”
“You went to one of the fucking orgies?” She practically screamed it.
“Shut up,” I hissed. “Can you just be quiet?”
“You got pregnant at a goddamn Healy orgy! How do you even know he’s the dad? Weren’t you, like, crawling in dicks? And what the hell were you thinking, going to something like that? Aren’t you related to half the guys there?”
“No, I wasn’t related to anyone there,” I said sharply. “Oh my god, stop. It was for the lieutenants and crap, not for the core family, and I don’t know why I went, I was curious, okay? I’d heard about them and I just—I wanted to see for myself.” I didn’t add that I’d been incredibly lonely and depressed, and that living with my father was like a waking nightmare. “I didn’t join the orgy. I just had a one-night stand with that guy, and that’s all. I fucked up my birth control and here I am, knocked up and about to be very, very dead. So can you please be supportive?”
The tears burst out finally. I’d been waiting for them. Nessa made comforting noises and hugged me as I cried against her and I felt like such a moron, but I couldn’t hold it back. I was dead, so dead, so freaking dead.
“It’ll be okay,” Nessa said softly. “You said his name’s Matteo? That’s a nice name. What’s he like?”
“He was nice,” I said, wiping my eyes.
“Of course. He was fucking you, so—” She stopped when she caught my glare. “Sorry, sorry. Do you know what he looks like?”
“I don’t have his number. But I got a selfie with him.”
“Show me.”
I took out my phone and went through my photos. The picture was a little blurry, the lighting not great, and I had some major sex hair, but Matteo looked perfect with his crooked smile and straight, white teeth.
Nessa’s eyes went wide. “Holy fucking virgin birth, I know that boy.”
“Excuse me?”
She snatched the phone and zoomed in on his face. “I know him. He drinks at McCloud’s over there.” She pointed in its general direction like that helped. “I’ve seen him a few times. Hard not to notice him. Big fella, real handsome.” She stared at me, eyes wide. “And you fucked him?”
“Give me the phone back, Nessa.”
She handed it over. “Just saying, wow. Big score. I’m actually impressed. Aside from the baby, it’s amazing.”
“Great, thanks, glad I got your approval.” I stood up and walked toward the slides. “You know where he hangs out then?”
“McCloud’s,” she said again. “I can bring you there. I swear, he goes like every night. The guy’s a regular.”
I stood next to the swirly slide and stared at the plastic for a minute, trying to think. I didn’t know this guy, but I loved my night with him. We both agreed to keep it to that night though, but that was before I got pregnant. He’d want to know, and maybe he could help me—or maybe he’d scream in my face, call me a whore, and tell my dad that I was a dirty slut and tricked him into it or something.
But no, that wasn’t the Matteo I met and slept with. I didn’t think he’d do that, although Nessa’s comment rang in my ears. Of course he was nice, he was fucking me.
I dug my fingers into the slide then relaxed and looked back at Nessa. She was watching me with a massive frown on her face, clearly almost as scared as I felt.
“I want to see him,” I said. “When can we go?”
“Tonight. Shit, right now. Go home and get changed.”
“I’m not trying to sleep with him
again.”
“Yeah, well, you’re about to tell him that you’re pregnant, so you might as well look hot while you do it. Who knows, maybe he’ll help you or something?”
I rolled my eyes but she had a point. “All right, fine. Meet back here in a half hour.”
She nodded and chewed on her lip then walked to me and threw her arms around my shoulders. I hugged her back and buried my face in her hair.
“It’ll be okay,” Nessa said. “I love you, Sammie poo. I promise we’ll get through this.”
“I’m afraid I might be fucked, Monster,” I said. “Not in the good way. Don’t make a stupid joke.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She kissed my cheek. “Go on, go get hot. I’ll see you here in thirty.” Then she let me go and stalked off, hurrying back home.
I watched her go and wanted to cry.
But she knew where I could find Matteo. This baby was a real problem, but at least there was one person in this world that might help me, or at least might listen to my issues. Matteo got me into this, and maybe he could get me out.
Or maybe he’d tell me to fuck off and I’d be right back where I started. It was worth a try, anyway.
I only had to hope that the man I slept with that night was the real man, and not some liar just trying to get into my pants.
3
Matteo
McCloud’s was a quiet little dive joint deep in the heart of the Healy family territory. The floors were sticky gray tile and the seats were all ripped green leather. Random Irish shit hung on the walls: shamrocks, football team scarves, pictures of famous dead guys that I didn’t recognize. The drinks were cheap though and the bartender didn’t talk much, which I liked. It was a good spot to get intel, although ever since I murdered my best informant, getting good tips had gotten a little tough.
The Healy guys were smart. They kept to their own little groups, and even though I was a regular at McCloud’s, drank there almost every night and made nice with all the gangster guys I could find, it didn’t help me much. They were still suspicious, and few of them were drunk or stupid enough to start spilling secrets.
Which was good for them, since the last guy that did ended up with a knife in his throat.
I sipped my beer and watched a group of young Healy soldiers out of the corner of my eye. I’d seen them around here lately and though I might’ve recognized one of them from a fight I got into almost a year ago. I was worried he’d realize that I was from the Valentino family, but he didn’t seem to have any clue, and I started to relax a bit. Some old-timers sat near me talking about the football game on TV, but I didn’t bother looking up at it. Sports weren’t all that interesting, not when my job was to gather bits and pieces, and eventually kill everyone in this whole place.
I finished my beer and asked for another when the door opened and the room went quiet.
I looked over, expecting some high-ranking Healy with a bright red face and the desire to get even drunker than he already was, which happened surprisingly frequently, but instead two girls stood in the doorway. I felt my mouth open and had to snap it shut before she noticed.
The one on the left was small and pretty with short dark hair and tan skin. But my gaze barely glanced over her before resting on the other girl—
It was Sam, the girl of my dreams.
The girl that hadn’t left my head for one second since that night.
She looked incredible. Another tight dress, high heels, hair simple and down, makeup understated and plain. Her skin was smooth and, my god, she was as gorgeous as I remembered, maybe even more so. My heart did a double lurch in my chest and I felt my cock stir just thinking about the evening of sin we spent together.
I couldn’t remember the last time I reveled in a girl like that. Sam made me want to fuck again, and again, and again, and no matter how many times I came, inside of her, in her mouth, on her perky little tits, I kept wanting more. When the sun finally rose and we caught a few restless hours of sleep, I woke up still hard, and still yearning for her to slide her wet little pussy up and down my shaft.
Instead, she slipped away, and I thought that was the end of that. I got one selfie to remember her by—and agreed that we’d never speak of it again.
Instead, there she was, looking perfect.
And she stared right back at me.
I couldn’t read her face. It was almost sad, in some strange way, like seeing me was the last thing she wanted—which was confusing. We parted ways on good terms, and though we promised it was just one night, it was still one damn good night. Seeing her again was fantastic, and I would’ve thought she’d feel the same way.
But maybe things were more complicated than I realized.
The other girl said something to her then walked off toward the booths. Sam didn’t move, just kept staring at me, until the bartender walked over and gave me a new beer. That seemed to break the moment, and she slowly walked in my direction, then took the stool to my right.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I said and slid the beer toward her.
She reached for it, stopped herself, then took her head. I shrugged and took it back.
“I didn’t think I’d see you, either.” She chewed on her lip. I remembered that gesture—though that night, she did it out of lust, and right now she was doing it from nerves.
“What brings you to my office?” I asked.
That got a little smile. “Your office?”
“Sure. I work from home.”
She laughed then asked the bartender for a Coke. He poured the soda and slid it over. I wondered why she didn’t add some alcohol to that order but didn’t press her on it.
I couldn’t remember if she drank that night. Maybe a little wine, but not much more. We were too busy to drink.
“You want to hear something crazy?” she asked.
“Always,” I said, leaning toward her.
“I came here to see you.”
I raised my eyebrows and felt my chest flutter. “Really now?” I asked softly. “And how’d you find me?”
“My friend.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Nessa, she’s seen you here before.”
“Ah,” I said, and realized that I should probably switch bars at some point. “I guess I’m happy your girl spotted me then.”
She turned the soda around and around between her hands, spinning it in a circle. It left a spiraling condensation mark on the bar top. She leaned forward and sipped from the straw, and I thought of all the filthy things I wanted to do to those lips—but her serious face gave me pause.
She didn’t seem happy to find me. She’d come here for me, but this wasn’t for another taste of that night. No, something was going on.
I sat up straighter and glanced at the Healy guys sitting nearby. They weren’t watching, as far as I could tell—maybe one or two of them kept glancing at Sam, but that couldn’t be helped. She was the only woman in the place, and by far the hottest girl for miles. But I wanted to make sure they weren’t paying close attention for the wrong reasons, because that could mean they were onto me, and this might be a trap.
“This is kind of a hard conversation,” she said.
“I find that hard conversations go best when you dive right in.” I sipped my beer and leaned toward her. “But first, let me ask you something.”
“All right,” she said.
“Have you been thinking about that night as much as I have?”
Her cheeks turned bright red. “Yes. Probably. I don’t know. How much have you been thinking about it?”
“Every day. I know we said one night only, but god damn, that was one hell of a night. I guess I’m too greedy to stop.”
She shook her head. “I’m not here for, uh, for that.”
“I know you’re not. It’s pretty obvious. But I just thought you should know, I haven’t gotten you off my mind for a second.”
She smiled a little, but her smile quickly faded as she went back to twirling her glass. “I don’t know how to
say this. I mean, it’s so simple, right? It should just say it.”
“Then just say it.”
She met my eye. “I’m pregnant.”
I leaned back and didn’t move.
The bar disappeared.
The Healy guys, her friend, the old men sitting on stools, they faded into black. The bottles, the bartender, the taps, they went blank.
There was only Sam looking at me with this wide open and naked expression, this pure vulnerability that was simultaneously arousing and terrifying. Her plump lips parted and her eyes blinked and I didn’t move a muscle, couldn’t move a muscle.
“Pregnant,” I said.
“I just found out and Nessa knew you’d be here and god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do. It’s yours, by the way, I haven’t been with anyone else.”
I held up a hand and squeezed my eyes shut for one second. “I know it’s mine,” I said. “Pregnant, god. You’re pregnant.”
“Are you mad?”
I opened my eyes again and shook my head sharply. “Of course I’m not mad.”
“I told you I was on birth control. But I’m sorry, I fucked it up and now—”
“Sam,” I said, leaning toward her. I put my hand on her leg, and suddenly the world came back into focus. The bartender reappeared, the Healy guys were there again, the bottles and the taps, but suddenly Sam was the center of it all. She was the weight in my universe, the gravity tugging me down.
She was the only thing that mattered. I felt it happen in a sudden rush all at once.
My Sam. My baby.
“My family’s going to kill me,” she whispered. “Do you have any clue what they do to girls like me? They’ll ship me back to Ireland and make me become a nun. Or they’ll force me to give up the baby, or worse. My dad is Colm Healy’s brother, I just call him Uncle Colm like everyone else, but you know who he is, right? I mean, you were at that party, so you have to know who Colm Healy is, right?”
“I know him,” I said softly, and felt a pit of dread open up in my stomach.