“He told you she died of an overdose to give you something worthy to fight for while the rest of it was as dirty as sin. He made it okay to kill and steal because he put it in your head that the original cause was honorable. He gave the animal steak to chew on, telling it that it needed to eat, and blood was part of the hunger.”
Killian stuck a finger to his chest again. “I remembered, though, Cash. I remembered leaving the hospital, being told that my mother had died of an overdose. That we would be starting a new life soon. I remembered her screaming about a headache, but she was not unresponsive. I remembered the day Patrick Flanagan showed up and stood watch out of guilt.
“I remembered the conversation between them. He wasn’t allowed to see us unless he made a promise to never touch another woman again.” Killian stopped for a second, trying to catch his breath. “Even though Molly warmed Ronan’s bed every night.
“I pieced it together after I lost my legs and you went to jail. I pieced it together because I was fucking allowed to think about it, Cash! You never would. You would never even consider him anything less than a hero! The end always justified the means.” He wheeled himself back, showing Cash his legs, legs that would never work again. “What’s the cause now, Cashel? What’s it worth? The price on these?” He punched his leg.
The door creaked open, and the woman from the pub peeked her head inside a second later. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed how Killian breathed heavily, how his wheelchair was positioned, and the set of Cash’s face. It hadn’t softened. If anything, it had hardened.
“Should I get the gun?” she said in all seriousness.
“You get a gun,” I said, “and we’re going to have problems, you and me. I’ll put an arrow straight through the wrist holding up the gun and not think twice about it. I’ll aim higher if it comes to it.”
I narrowed my eyes against hers, and after a second, she stepped inside, taking a seat between Saoirse and Killian.
The room became quiet, no one speaking, no one moving, all eyes on Cash. He hadn’t spoken a word the entire time.
Then he cleared his throat. “You sit before me, both of you, and tell me that my mother lives, and my brother knew it, but no one told me until today. Until I came here searching for answers to questions that were given to me by an enemy. You treated me worse than the dead.” He tapped the table a couple of times. He stopped. “Consider me dead then. Get out. All of you. Now. Or she will need a gun.”
29
Cash
My wife stood out against the ragged Irish coastline, her bow raised, arrow pointed, the wind moving through her hair. The color of it matched the fire left behind from the setting sun.
Her quiver was full of arrows, and a green feather fletch drifted in the wind, landing at my feet. I bent down and picked it up, holding it between my pointer and middle finger.
Seven targets were lined up outside of the farmhouse, and as she moved and released with a quickness that was hard to process, she hit the center seven times in a row. It only took a few seconds for her to reach for the arrow and set up the shot, for the arrow to fly through the air and strike its target, and for her to have already moved on to the next one.
At the rate she loosed arrows, it would only take her a few seconds to clear out a group of full-grown men.
Keely Kelly was not, by any means, to be fucked with.
She’d had an arrow pointed at my chest the first time my eyes met hers, and she claimed a heart I’d had no fucking clue I had.
“Can you shoot?” Her voice carried with the wind.
“A gun.” I grinned.
Her grin matched mine. “Don’t worry. You have me if there’s ever an apocalypse.”
“Grand,” I said, sticking my hands in my pockets, going to stand closer to her.
She laughed, and a gust of wind swept her hair up. I moved the pieces from her face, tucking them behind her ear. Her eyes closed and she shivered, her shoulders coming up toward her ears. She put her chilled hand over mine, squeezing.
“Stand here,” she said, nodding to where she was.
I stood in front of her and she stood close behind me. She handed me the bow and helped me line up the shot, then handed me an arrow.
“Let’s see what you can do, thief of my heart,” she said, her breath warm in my ear. She was watching me over my shoulder.
“How am I supposed to do this with you breathing down my neck?”
“Does this bother you?” Her voice was low, breathy, too fucking seductive.
When she aimed, it didn’t even seem like she had to concentrate, or narrow one eye to be able to see better out of the other one. I lined up the shot again, and as I went to release the arrow, she reached around and grabbed my cock, blowing in my ear at the same time.
The shot went wild in a crazed arch and stuck in the ground.
I’d never heard her laugh so hard. I turned around and she pointed at me. “Your face!” She laughed even harder, but she was trying to make the same face I was. Maybe pissed, but it was hard to tell when she couldn’t keep a straight face. She was almost wheezing. When she could breathe normally again, she said, “You’re not used to being tripped up by a woman, right, Marauder?”
I set my body flush to hers, sliding my hand up her back, feeling the tremble beneath her skin when I touched her. I took another arrow from the quiver. Turning, I set the shot up once more and loosed the arrow. This time it went straight, connecting with the target, but a smidge to the left of her center hit.
“Not bad, my heart,” she said from behind me. “Not bad at all. I sense some potential.”
She said it casually, like she hadn’t called me something other than what she had been calling me—Kelly, marauder, bastard, thief of her time or heart. It felt the same as the first time she’d ever called me Cash.
“What?” She lifted her hair, fixing it so it wouldn’t blow in the wind. “I called you my heart. Don’t make a deal about it. You are my heart, since you stole it.”
She turned me toward the target again, setting my body a certain way. With her body guiding mine, we hit each target. The arrows stuck right next to hers, except the last one, when she made the Robin Hood shot. She split her arrow straight through the middle.
“Well done,” she said, stepping away from me. “Well done.”
I nodded at her and handed her back the bow. She took it from me and rested it against the small building used to house tools and things. I watched her for a minute before I stuck my hands in my pockets and went to walk back to the farmhouse.
“Cashel Kelly,” she said.
I stopped.
“Take me for a long walk along the beach.” She was next to me before I expected her to be. Her hand slipped into mine, intertwining our fingers.
I sighed and nodded.
We walked the length of the property and crossed the crude road, our boots finding purchase along the rocks that separated land from sea. Water rushed into the cracks every so often, filling the voids, and then rushed back out. She released my hand when I bent down to pick up a rock and throw it.
“Tell me what happened that day,” she said. “The day that changed everything.”
The day I lost my old man and my brother.
I cleared my throat. “My old man took us to the Bronx Zoo. He’d take us there when he had something important to talk to us about. They had a green-eyed tiger that he called my spirit animal. The keeper used to let us feed him sometime.”
I bent down again, looking for another stone to throw. “Our old man told us he had a bad feelin’ about something. He had them often. His business was to basically piss everyone else off. Because if you’re not pissin’ someone off in that world, you’re not doing something right. Enemies mean that you’ve made it. You stand for something that someone else wants.” I stood then, four small rocks in my hand. I flung one out and the sea took it.
“He warned us that things were gettin’ dicey. That if something happened to him, he wanted us to run
things. Take his legacy and make it stronger.” I rubbed the stones between my palms and then flung another one, this one going further than the last. “After we left the zoo, we were goin’ to eat dinner at my old man’s apartment. Molly always cooked a special meal on Sundays, and we were expected to eat with them. A car had pulled across the street before we got inside, and when my old man made eye contact with them, he told us to go inside and wait.”
I climbed a mound of rocks, turning to give my wife my hand. She took it and stood beside me, her eyes narrowed against the horizon.
“I didn’t. I had a cold feelin’ along my neck, like a wild animal was about to sink his teeth into it and cripple me. Because I waited, so did Kill.” I flung another rock, this one going wild with a gust of wind. It landed somewhere in the distance with no proof that it did. “My old man was leanin’ down, talking to the two men through their rolled down window. They were arguing but keepin’ their voices low. It was one of Grady’s men and a Scarpone. As they were arguing, a bunch of cops pulled up, tires screeching, sirens blasting. They pulled guns as soon as they jumped out. Stone’s old man was screaming at mine to put his hands up.
“My old man did, but he told Stone he had business to finish first. Scott Stone, who was a beat cop at the time, disagreed. Before Stone’s father gave him the okay, he cuffed my old man, and as he pulled him back from the car, Scarpone shot him in the chest. Right in his heart. The cops started firing. So did the men in the car. I went to go to my old man, but Kill jumped on me before I could get there. Someone was shooting at me. He took the bullet meant for me.”
“And lost his legs,” she said, taking the last rock from my hand and throwing it. She put her hand along my side and pulled herself around so she was standing in front of me at the very edge of the rock. “Then you stole my heart out of revenge.”
“I spent my entire life, my darlin’, waiting to steal the right one.”
She blinked up at me, her eyes a true blue. “The right one—the one you found through vengeance.”
“If the path to hell can be paved with good intentions—” I shrugged “—maybe the path to heaven can be paved with meant-to-be.” I dug in my pocket and pulled out the necklace I’d given her on our wedding night. I dangled it in front of her face, and when she went to take it, I pulled it back. “You take this off, or even try to give it back to me again, you won’t be able to sit for two weeks.”
She pushed it toward me with a wicked glint in her eye, and when she did, I tightened my hold on it, and she tightened hers. She realized I was being fucking serious.
“I won’t,” she whispered. “Now give it back to me. It’s mine.”
I set it over her head, situating it so that the pendant was in the middle of her chest.
She looked down at it, fiddling with it, running her nail through the crevices. “What’s inside, Kelly?”
“It’s easy enough to find out.”
She looked up at me just as I winked.
“Bastard,” she mouthed and then grinned. She held the pendant between her fingers, rubbing it.
I tucked my finger underneath her chin. “I wasn't completely honest with you when I said I didn't have a heart. I have many. The men I've killed. I carry them with me. Their sins have become my own.”
After a minute or two, she sighed. “Mine? Is it a burden?”
I studied her face, wondering how in the fuck I hadn’t realized how beautiful she was until that moment. How her face would be enough if it was the last one I’d ever see. How out of every woman in the entire world, my eyes had decided she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever see.
“No, my darlin,’” I said. “When I stole your heart, I found something I’d never felt before. Relief.”
Her head came forward, resting against my chest. “You can’t truly appreciate peace without chaos.” She wrapped her arms around me, turning her head to the side to look out at the water. She pressed even closer to me. “I can hear it, the chaos. It’s tearing you apart from the inside. The truth about your Da, the truth he hid from you, is killing something inside of you. Don’t let it,” she whispered. “My heart is yours now, Cashel Kelly, and if something kills you, it kills me. That’s why I called you my heart. Because you are, no matter who you are or what you’ve done. You’re mine. End of story.”
30
Keely
We spent the rest of the month in Ireland, Maureen and the kids joining us after two weeks.
After that, we headed to Scotland, to spend some time with my family. Cash insisted. He said all ghosts had to be put to rest. It wasn’t easy breaking the news to my Mam that I wouldn’t be going back to Broadway; I would be starting an art class. For whatever reason, she seemed to handle it better when Cash was next to me.
Maybe it wasn’t Cash at all. Maybe it was because I’d finally set boundaries on her guilt, and my life was what it was. I couldn’t bring my sister back, no matter how many times I held my breath, and it was time for me to live my life. My life. Not hers.
Before we left, my brothers attacked Cash like a bunch of wrestlers during a free-for-all, since Harrison decided to tell them the circumstances of our first wedding in New York. He said he couldn’t keep it from them any longer because they’d all decided to work for Cash. He’d funded a pub for them, and he required a certain amount of the proceeds until the loan was paid back. I sensed there was more to it, maybe some criminal dealings, but my brothers were grown men, and I couldn’t fix all of their problems, either.
However.
It was decided that my parents would never find out about the circumstances that brought Cash and me together. I had dirt on each of my brothers that I’d sworn never to reveal. Shit was going to get real if they snitched on me first.
As far as I was concerned, I’d found my place in Cash Kelly’s life, and I claimed my spot at his table. Our business was our own, and how we got to where we were in our relationship was no one’s concern but ours.
After that, Maureen and the kids went home to New York, while we flew to Italy to meet Harrison. He’d been spending time with Gigi, Mac’s cousin, and I needed to see Mari. I decided that since I was expelling all of my old ghosts, it was time for me to come clean with her. About everything.
Harrison stood with me and Mari while Cash went out to talk to Mac.
After I spilled my guts, Mari said, “You said you had something to talk to me about. You told me things. Plenty of things.”
“I guess I did,” I said. “I had to. It was time.”
She nodded. “I knew about your sister.”
I immediately turned to look at Harrison, who held his hands up. “She needed to know.”
“When did you tell her?” I asked.
“Years ago.”
“You’re worse than a gossiping little bitch,” I said.
He laughed and so did Mari.
She put her hand over mine, squeezing. “I’m glad you finally told me things,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said, leaning in and kissing her head. “I’m glad you finally told me things, too.”
“I’ll always be your little sister,” she said. “But we’re all grown-up now. You don’t have to protect me anymore, Kee. I’m going to be okay.”
“Fucka me,” I said, copying her, wiping my eyes. It was something she said that mirrored what her adoptive Sicilian grandfather used to say when bugs would eat the vegetables in his garden. He had an accent, and he would add an “‘a” to the end of words sometimes. It must’ve stuck with her, something to keep him close.
On the plane back to New York, I closed my eyes, my head on Kelly’s shoulder while he read a book.
“Tell me one thing, my darlin’,” he said, his eyes scanning the page. “Now that you know the reason why I stole your heart. Is it good enough?”
“It all happened the way it was supposed to,” I said, leaning in and kissing the tiger on his neck. “You found me through the reason, no matter what it stemmed from.” I hesitated. One minu
te. Two. “I think we should invite Maureen and the kids to come and live with us permanently.”
Even though I loved it when it was the two of us, having them around filled something inside of me that I had no idea was missing. When the kids were around, it was like our family was complete. I loved to hear Connolly giggle, even though she still wasn’t talking much. I loved to see Ryan smile and experience all of the milestones children achieve as they grow. And even though Maureen could be a grumpy old lady, I liked having her around, too. Her strength was something I admired.
“I don’t plan on working as much,” Cash said, turning to face me, setting his finger in his book to mark his spot before he closed it.
I adjusted in my seat but still kept my arm locked with his. “Even better.”
“It’s a little early to start a family,” he said.
I turned forward, my head pressed against the seat, shocked at my own words and why I hadn’t realized what they meant. Start a family. Even though it was unconventional, that was exactly what I’d proposed to him. Starting a family—with Connolly, Ryan, Maureen, and the two of us.
I shrugged. “I really like having them around.”
“You have a connection with the little girl.”
“The little boy, too,” I whispered.
“Our place is big enough,” he said, opening his book again. “You’ve already decorated her room.”
That was a yes from Cash Kelly, and even though I wanted it, it suddenly scared me. Scared the breath from my lungs and sent my heart into overdrive. It was that feeling of falling in love over and over again, but going deeper every time. I got the same feeling when Cash looked at me, when he touched me, and when I thought about keeping the four of them…Cash, Maureen, Connolly, and Ryan.
Marauder (Gangsters of New York Book 2) Page 29