Marauder (Gangsters of New York Book 2)

by Bella Di Corte

  Harry Boy nodded and left.

  She took a step away from me, fixing her hair, and then she ran a cool hand along her neck, which was on fire. “He’s not,” she said, the force back in her voice. “He’s not going to believe this! What do I say? What do I do? I don’t want you to kill my brother if I fuck this up!”

  I took her hand, leading her toward the front door. “The truth, you’re mine, and not a damn thing else, darlin’. Not a damn thing.”

  11

  Keely

  I didn’t get satisfaction out of hurting other people, not like the marauder did, but we were alike in a way that I hated to admit. I did get satisfaction out of getting revenge on people who hurt me or mine.

  Did that make me a bad person? I had no idea.

  Just like I had no idea how deep this feud between Cash and Scott went. I’d find out after we opened my brother’s front door and Scott saw the two of us together. Holding hands. A huge emerald engagement ring on my left-hand ring finger. The one with the vein that ran straight to my heart.

  Scott was never going to believe that Kelly and I were together. Not in the real sense. He was never going to believe that I was that kind of woman. The kind to bring two men to my bed at the same time, fooling one of them. He had to believe it, though, or I had no idea what the marauder was going to do.

  Cash stopped right before he opened the door, turning to face my brothers, who had all decided to walk behind us.

  My brother, Lachlan, cleared his throat. “We’ll find out more about the ring on your finger in a minute, but Harrison filled us in on the detective. You were seeing him too, Kee? At the same time as Cash?”

  “Yeah,” I said, my voice breathy.

  Harrison shook his head and leaned against the wall.

  “It just happened.” For a bunch of men who’d known me my entire life, none of them even blinked at me. At the lie. Usually one of them did if I was lying, but it was usually me calling them out on their bullshit. Maybe I was becoming a better actress.

  “Keely Kelly, Keely Kelly, Keely Kelly,” my brother Owen said real fast, but he messed up my soon-to-be name the third time he’d said it. Then he made an ung sound when Declan elbowed him in the ribs.

  Lachlan shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You have the right to love who you want. But maybe you should’ve been honest with the detective before he showed up.” Lachlan looked Cash in the eye. They stood at the same height. “Is this going to become a problem for my sister? For my brother? Since this is his place?”

  I looked up at Cash, who stared back at my brothers like they were, collectively, nothing but easy dinner. He grinned. “No problem at all.”

  Lachlan nodded. “Let’s see what he wants.”

  Shit! How could I tell them that I’d invited him?

  Cash went to open his mouth, but I beat him to it. “No,” I said. “I’d rather keep this between Scott and me.”

  “The three of us,” Cash said, and with his accent, “three” came out as “tree.” “It’s best if the man knows where I stand. And where he stands.”

  “And where I stand,” I said, my voice steadier than my hands and knees.

  Harrison stood straighter. “We’ll wait right here then.” He squeezed Lachlan’s shoulder.

  I took a settling breath that wasn’t settling at all as I opened the door. Scott was looking down at his phone, and I caught how tired he was by the set of his face. When he looked up at me, the look seemed to melt, and a huge smile bloomed on his face.

  “Sweetheart,” he said. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. I hope—” The words died in his throat as the force from behind me slipped a hand around my waist, at the same time moving us out onto the porch, closer to Scott.

  Scott. Me. The marauder.

  Of course.

  In that moment, I was officially the center of this feud between enemies.

  “It’s so nice of you to join us, detective,” Cash said from behind me, his warm breath flowing over my skin, making me tremble. Not from attraction this time, but from the coldness in his tone. “A little late for the party, though.”

  Scott looked between us, and I couldn’t understand the look on his face at all. Not until a second later when he drew his gun and told Cash to either release me, or he was going to take a bullet.

  Cash laughed, the sound low, but deep in his throat. “Am I forcin’ myself on you, darlin’?”

  Harrison. Harrison. Harrison.

  I was doing this for my brother! Wasn’t I? Even though I hated to hurt Scott, because he’d never done anything to me personally, a part of me—a deep, seedy part of me—actually admired the way Cash was handling this revenge plan. It was clever.

  Just like the old saying went, “feed a man and he eats for a day, but teach him how to fish and he eats for a lifetime.” Well, Cash’s deal seemed to go something like this, “Kill a man and it’s over, but wound him in a place that doesn’t have the capacity to heal, and he suffers for the rest of his life.”

  I was the one who ultimately had to do the hurting, though, and it killed me to have to do it. Scott was a decent guy, apart from his attitude toward organized crime individuals.

  Cash squeezed my waist a little, and I sucked in a breath before I silently released it. “No,” I said, my voice firm. “He’s not.” I took another deep breath. “I was hoping you would’ve come earlier. I needed to talk to you about this.” I slid my hand over Cash’s, and Scott’s eyes narrowed. Then he lowered the gun and holstered it. “I’m sorry, Scott. I really am. You’ll never know how much. But I can’t do this—us. I met Cash and— ”

  I’d been waiting for Scott to interrupt me, to call me out on the bullshit, but he didn’t. He believed me. He actually believed me. This farce, as Cash had called it. Maybe Cash was right. Scott couldn’t tell the difference between the actress and the real me.

  “And you fell in love with the bastard!” Scott roared and I flinched a little in Cash’s embrace. Scott didn’t notice it—his eyes never left Cash’s—but it was enough that Cash felt it. He held me a little tighter.

  “I—” I was about to say what? But then maybe he’d suspect something was up. But how could he not see that I was acting? That the only thing I felt for this man holding me was a mixture of disdain and curiosity?

  Okay, and lust. I couldn’t be blamed, though. The man was frigging good-looking with a healthy dose of virility. I gave myself a pass on the attraction, because my heart worked and the blood in my veins ran hot.

  “Fuck, Keely!” Scott shouted, finally looking at me. “Do you have any idea who’s touching you right now? Who he is?”

  “The marauder.”

  The air seemed to still, and the only thing that seemed to move was the frantic heaving motion of Scott’s chest. “So you know. You know what kind of animal has his hands on you.” When Scott looked down at Cash’s hand, he noticed mine, the light from the house making the emerald glimmer in the night.

  I dug in my back pocket, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible, and pulled out the ring Scott had given me. I stepped out of Cash’s hold, then took a step forward, hoping Scott could see the remorse in my eyes. It hurt me to end it this way.

  This was only the beginning, though—for the three of us. Cash had sounded the battle cry, and Scott answered it.

  “Here.” I took his hand and slipped the ring inside, trying to steady my own hand. It trembled. “You deserve to be happy,” I whispered. “Another woman, someone different, deserves to wear that ring.”

  Scott ripped his hand from mine like I was a leper, a disgusted look on his face, before he made a fist with the hand holding the ring. “You fell in love with a savage. A fucking animal that kills for money. You fell in love with my worst enemy. And he played you like the devil plays the weak. I never took you for weak, but I guess I was wrong. About a lot of things.”

  He looked at Cash. “We’re not done, Kelly. You stole my heart—now I’m going to steal your soul—Hell’s Kitchen. It n
ever belonged to your father. It’ll never belong to you, as long as I’m alive to stop it.”

  Any reasonable man would’ve taken one look at Scott’s face and cancelled the debt owed, but one look at Cashel Kelly and I knew it would never be enough. He would never be satisfied until Scott Stone cried tears of blood. I knew it was the same for Scott Stone.

  It didn’t hit me until that moment how insanely dangerous this situation was. Both men’s hate and anger were like two open graves. The game was a race to see who was going to fall into one first at the other’s hand.

  “Kee.”

  It took a moment for me to realize that Harrison was talking to me. I was out of sorts lately.

  Cash turned us around, and my entire family stood facing us.

  “You have something to tell your Mam and Da?” My mother glanced down at my hand before she met my eyes and quirked a severe eyebrow up.

  “We’re getting married,” Cash said.

  A few seconds later, Scott’s door slammed. Tires screeched as he tore away from the curb, leaving behind the scent of burning rubber and smoke.

  And that... sealed everything.

  12

  Keely

  M y understudy hated me. All throughout practice she made snide little remarks underneath her breath. She only got this part because of her boyfriend— or whoever he is to her. She can’t even sing. She can’t even act.

  Although I knew she was being a bitch because her uncle couldn’t secure this role for her, her last comment was the truth. Well, for that particular day.

  I couldn’t focus enough to get inside of my character’s head. My attention was on the marauder.

  It had been three days since we kissed in the kitchen. Three days since he gave me the massive engagement ring on my finger. Even though I should’ve been focusing on Scott, and what I had done to him, all I could think about was my impending wedding and that kiss.

  That kiss.

  I loathed it.

  I loved it.

  It chilled me to my bone.

  It heated my blood and made my stomach flutter, like my heart was a bird and it had eloped with all common sense, leaving behind loose feathers that swirled every time I thought of him.

  That kiss.

  I wanted to reject it.

  I wanted to keep it for as long as I lived.

  Because that kiss? It had blinded me. I’d never kissed a man and had the entire world fade away, and inside of the darkness, it was only him and I. No one else seemed to exist. And no matter what that lying bastard had to say about it or not, he was moved by it, too.

  I felt it. How he had felt. In that moment, we were connected, and whatever seemed to move through him, moved through me, like a strike of lightning.

  What a bunch of bullshit!

  He was doing exactly what he set out to do—steal my heart! And I was letting him. Letting him. I was probably the easiest heist he’d ever had.

  I was the date who didn’t make the man work for the kiss, basically.

  That wasn’t me. At all. I controlled who I gave my heart to. No one else, least of all him.

  “Damn straight!” I shouted.

  The stage grew exceptionally quiet. All eyes were on me.

  “I was moved by that last line.” I started clapping, and because no one else wanted to seem rude, so did everyone else. My onstage sister had been defending my character, stating that no man would own me—not without shedding blood first.

  That impulsive shout went to prove how much strain I was under, though. I was about to snap. I needed to get a grip on my control. I refused to allow Kelly to have it all—no fucking way. I was marrying him. At his order. The least, the very least, he could do was work with me on a few points that meant something to me.

  I made mental notes of all the things I wanted to discuss with him on the way to my dressing room. I was done for the day, anyway. I wasn’t doing my character any favors, and shouting out thoughts that refused to quiet wasn’t doing my castmates any favors either.

  This entire situation was why I’d made a rule for myself years ago. Never marry someone you instantly fall for. Those relationships, the chaotic ones, were supposed to burn at a maddening speed, leaving me heart-wrecked but wiser. It was the kind of situation that was supposed to teach me all of the what-not-to-dos in love.

  Scott Stone was not that kind of man. He was the kind of man you married.

  I had surface feelings for him, no doubt about it, but over the years, I would’ve learned how to love him deeper. He would’ve learned how to love me. And I would have given him my heart. He was my turtle, winning the race of life at a reasonable pace with me. Not a quick-witted and cunning cat that came in, tried to steal my heart, and then set us on a miserable pace until we both burned out. All because of vengeance.

  Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have mentally complained about Scott when we were together. I had jinxed myself beyond belief.

  I stared down at my messenger bag, stuffing a few things in.

  Okay, so maybe Scott wouldn’t have been the guy I would’ve ended up with, but he had potential, didn’t he? If not Scott, someone like him.

  Stop making excuses, Keely. Listen to your heart.

  I refused to. It had betrayed me by already feeling something for the marauder. Especially after that kiss.

  “Okay, Kee, we need a plan. Like yesterday. You’re not going to get out of this, or get even, if you don’t start setting some ground rules now. Even if you do it without him realizing it.” My Mam always said the trick with my Da was making him think he was the head of the house. “Minds are nothing without thoughts,” she’d always say. “I’m the thoughts.”

  “Thoughts that lead to clever ideas are so important,” I said to myself, stuffing some papers in my bag.

  “No doubt.”

  “Ooh!” I twirled around, flinging four or five papers at the man who’d entered my dressing room.

  Raff deflected and started laughing. Then he bent over and picked them up, handing them back to me.

  “Tell me now if this is a family trait that I should get used to.” I stuck the papers inside. “You scare me. Your cousin constantly scares me. I mean, you’re both big men, why do you both walk like ghosts?”

  “I wasn’t aware ghosts walked,” he said, going to take a seat on the small couch. He grinned at me, resting his foot on his knee.

  I waved a hand. “You know what I mean.”

  “Mean what you say and say what you mean.” His grin turned even wider.

  “What are you doing here so early?” Cash had appointed Raff my shadow after the party at Harrison’s house. But he usually came later to pick me up. I knocked off earlier than usual because of my shitty day.

  “Cash sent me to bring you home.”

  He was keeping tabs on me, but that didn’t make a lump form in my throat, blocking airflow to my lungs. It was one word. Home. The marauder’s house.

  Raff had overseen the move from my old apartment to Kelly’s warehouse-turned-palatial-palace in Hell’s Kitchen. After Kelly orchestrated that dramatic scene in front of Harrison’s house, he told me I had three days to get my shit ready to be moved into his place. He actually used the word “our”—as in, his and mine.

  If that kiss wasn’t enough to knock me on my ass, moving in with him swept the barstool right out from underneath me.

  I stared at Raff for second, maybe longer, because he raised his eyebrows at me. I’d been lost in thought.

  In the time it took me to walk to my dressing room and pack up some of my stuff, I had come up with plan that might rattle Cash Kelly a little. It was going to take courage to see it through, though. I took a deep breath and said, “Cash’s family church, the one he was telling me about?”

  Cash said we were going to get married there, since the priest had been a family friend for years—no date had been set, but he’d mentioned it to my Mam and Da after the scene with Scott. My parents were familiar with the church, so my Mam approved. Not
that Kelly seemed to care one way or the other, but it was a point for him.

  “What about it?” Raff said.

  “I’d like to stop there before going home.”

  Raff nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’d be all right.”

  I nodded, more for myself, swooping up my bag from the table in front of the mirror. The reflection lit up by megawatt bulbs showed a woman at war with herself, but I’d already made up my mind. “I have one other stop before going to church. It won’t take long.”

  Raff narrowed his eyes at me but came along without protest.

  The small office inside of the massive church was dim, since the sun was starting to set. Raff had gone to find Father Flanagan and had left me alone with my thoughts and my bags.

  At first Raff had directed me to the confessional, but I shook my head and said I needed to speak to the priest somewhere else—a place where we could take my bags and I could keep them close.

  Raff seemed to have a clue as to what I was up to, but instead of calling me out, the grin on his face told me he was going to keep my secret. He seemed to like the idea of me one-upping Kelly. Maybe because not many people were able to.

  Two chairs were in front of a simple desk in the priest’s office. I sat in one, sighing as I did, and then glanced at the bag hanging over the second.

  My heart skipped a beat and I took a deep, deep breath to try and regulate it. It was making those feathers flutter again in the pit of my stomach. My fingers drummed against the wood, and my foot had an insane urge to tap.

  Five minutes went by, and right before I stood from my seat, too nervous to sit, the door opened, and an older man walked in.

  “Father Flanagan?” I said, turning in my seat.

  “All day,” he said. “Raff said you’d like to have a word with me.”

  I stood and he stopped cold—his eyes took me in from my head to my hands. I was rubbing my palms against my jeans.

  “My name is Keely Ryan,” I said, sticking my hand out. “I was told you’re a family friend of the Kelly family.”