Marauder (Gangsters of New York Book 2)

by Bella Di Corte

  Forever.

  31

  Keely

  I thought returning to New York would haunt me, but having the four of us all together seemed to bring me peace.

  We were home.

  In the space of time between arriving in Ireland and arriving back in Hell’s Kitchen, I had learned that no matter where I went, as long as my family stood beside me, that was the true meaning of home.

  I wanted to ask Maureen right away if she and the kids would come and live with us. I didn’t want to spend another night worrying about whether she was going to take them to her place for good one day. I enjoyed getting up in the middle of the night, checking on them, making sure they were safe in their beds. It put me at ease.

  What was even better was, Cash did, too.

  He had taken CeeCee and Ryan to a toy shop down the street so I could talk to Maureen alone.

  She was at the stove, cooking up something that smelled good. Though with Maureen, it was hard to tell how it was going to turn out. She found it a personal challenge to use whatever was in the fridge, even if it didn’t pair up with whatever dish she decided to cook.

  It told me a lot about her, though. She was resourceful when she needed to be. I admired that about her. I’d come to admire a lot of things about Maureen. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever had the honor of getting to know.

  I set my chin on her shoulder, looking over at the bubbling—soup?— in the pot.

  She smiled. “Don’t be one of those hover mothers or whatever they’re called. This is going to be ready when it’s ready.”

  I laughed as I took a seat at the kitchen table, though it wasn’t as carefree as usual. This—this was a big deal.

  Maureen set a beer in front of me before she took a seat. She had one of her own, but she didn’t touch it. Neither did I.

  “You’re a lot like me when I was young,” she said. “If I had an itch—” she shrugged “—I scratched it. The world be damned.”

  I lifted my bottle and we clanked, smiling at each other. “I’ll drink to that,” I said, taking a long pull.

  She didn’t. And I wondered—was she sick? I hated to listen to rumors, but it was hard to tell with her. Maureen kept things close to her heart until she was ready to talk. I hoped if she was, she would confide in me. We’d take care of her.

  “You’ve had a lot of practice taking care of other people, Mrs. Kelly,” she said, grinning at me. She rarely called me that, but sometimes she did when she got serious. “I’ve watched. Blood doesn’t seem to matter to you, not when it comes to love. Certain women have that way about them, you know. They can love without the bond of blood having to secure anything.”

  “Cash thinks differently,” I said. “He thinks in order for me to truly love him, he has to bleed for me.”

  “He does,” she said, “because he’s your man. I’m talking about the love you feel for my grandchildren.”

  “I do,” I said, reaching out for her hand. Like Mari, I knew she wanted to pull out of my embrace, but I wanted her to feel this. “I love them so much, Maureen. Like they’re my own.”

  “Any fool can see that.” She squeezed my hand. “And I’m no fool. Never was.” She paused. “Well, except for that one time I thought I was in love with Sean McFartin.”

  I pulled my lips in before I blurted, “Maureen McFartin!”

  “Dodged a bullet with that one,” she said, laughing with me. “Though I hear he’s living the good life. Owns a farm somewhere that’s made him plenty.”

  I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, but our laughter echoed throughout the kitchen. After a minute or so, we both sighed, but not at the same time.

  “I told that story to CeeCee,” she said, shrugging. “But it didn’t get the results I’d hoped for. You. You broke through. We’re all meant for someone, you know, and you and that child were meant for each other. I’ve come to realize that those two children were meant for this family.”

  “You, too,” I said.

  Ignoring my last remark, she tapped the table with her pointer finger once. “As unconventional as it is, as unconventional as your husband is, I know there’s no place I’d rather my grandchildren be.” She stood, going back to the stove, stirring her pot of whatever. “We’ll be moved in by next week,” she said, her voice soft.

  “I didn’t even get to ask,” I whispered. “I was going to.”

  “No need,” she said. “Your husband already told me so. And when I said I had to think about it…” She paused for a minute or two, and then she lowered her voice, trying to match his, as she said, “I’ll wait.”

  32

  Keely

  I suggested that Maureen and the kids move in right away, since CeeCee was so excited about the move, but Maureen claimed she needed a few days to get her things together. I offered to help, but she told me no, she had some personal effects to go through alone.

  A couple of days later, that left me with a house full of men. All of my brothers were over, having a poker game in the kitchen with Cash, and since I didn’t want to hear it when one of them accused another of cheating, I decided to read for a while in the library.

  Cash came in about an hour later and kissed me on the head.

  “What’s going on?” I said, yawning, looking up at him. Then I inhaled. He smelled like cigar smoke and whiskey.

  He showed me his cellphone. “Martin.”

  Martin was one of the men who “worked” for him.

  I nodded but took him by the shirt, keeping him close to me. “I hate to admit this,” I said. “But I’m attached to you now.”

  He grinned, then leaned down and kissed me—he stole my breath, the marauding bastard. “That’s why hearts are a pain in the arse, darlin’. They cause all sorts of trouble when you try to leave them behind.”

  “Grand,” I said. “Just fucking grand.”

  He laughed, leaving me in the library all alone. A minute passed. Two. Three. On the fourth tick, something that felt a lot like fear hit me in the center of my chest. It turned my blood ice cold.

  I took the steps two at a time, almost biting it once or twice when I almost lost my footing. Once on the bottom floor, I slid, catching myself right at the entrance of the kitchen. “Where’s Cash?” I asked my brothers.

  They were huddled around the table, still playing poker.

  Harrison pointed behind me. “Just walked out.”

  I hustled to the door, yanking it open, just before he turned the key in the lock. His eyes flashed up to mine, not expecting it, but then they narrowed.

  “You didn’t kiss me long enough,” I said, stalling, because I had no fucking clue what else to say.

  He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. He kissed me, but it still didn’t feel long enough. My hands were fisted in his shirt, and I wished for claws to sink into his skin so he could never leave me.

  He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead, his mouth lingering before he pulled away. Out of all the times he’d kissed me, none of them seemed to mean more than that one. It expressed everything I doubted he’d ever admit to me. How he’d take care of me for as long as he lived. How he loved me, even if he’d never say it.

  “Cash Kelly!” I said to his retreating back. It took him a second, but he stopped. “Take care of yourself.”

  He turned his head a fraction, and I could see the heart-stopping grin from the dim lights on the warehouse. He went to leave again when I called out for him once more.

  “I fucking mean it.”

  He nodded toward me. “I put my heart on a chain for you, darlin’. It’s wrapped around your neck. No safer place for it to be.”

  “That’s not good enough.” I was surprised that my words came out so strong. A lump had lodged in my throat, a clot coming straight from my gut.

  “You love me,” he said, like he was having a second revelation of what he’d realized in Ireland.

  “From the moment I saw you,” I whispered. “I loved you. I love you.”
He had brought life to me in that cemetery.

  “I’m all right then,” he said, nodding behind me. “Get inside and lock the door.”

  He waited until I did, but a minute or two later, I opened it again, looking out. He was gone. He’d melted with the darkness that surrounded him, nothing but his green eyes to bring attention to the force that walked these streets alone.

  My fingers wrapped around the pendant. Even though he told me I wore his heart around my neck, it felt like he had taken it with him.

  “Keely,” Lachlan said to me, laying a card face down. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Go to sleep.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” I snapped.

  It’d been an hour since Cash left, and even though it was normal for him to be gone for hours at a time, it bothered me for some reason. I kept telling myself it was only because we’d spent so much time together, and my attachment had grown strong, too strong for me to feel comfortable when he was gone. I understood then why Harrison used to call Mari “Strings.” My heart felt like it had been taken over by hundreds of threads, and every single one was connected to Cash Kelly.

  My feet, which seemed to have a direct connection to one of those strings, burned some tension by pacing in front of the kitchen, close to the front door.

  “Keely Kelly,” Owen said. “You out of beer in this New York mansion?”

  “Are you gonna play or complain all night?” Declan said.

  I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, not sure what else to do. No—I knew. I was about to leave. Surprise Kelly at his office. He’d fuck me on his desk and then carry me home, like some twisted villain in a fairytale written for me by me.

  I’d fallen madly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with that fucking villain in my story.

  I swiped my key from the table by the door, my hand on the knob. “I’m going out for a bit,” I said.

  Harrison stood. “I’ll go with you. We need more beer.”

  “No,” I said as I opened the door. “I’ll—” My breath left my lungs in relief and my heart lightened.

  Cash was coming down the street. His head was down, and one hand was tucked into his pocket. The closer he got to me, though, my eyes narrowed even further. His face. I’d never seen it so hard. His strides were not easy, as usual, but almost brutal. He wasn’t stomping, or being loud, but I could almost feel the anger rolling off of him from where I stood.

  “I wonder who told him you were in love with Stone and then stole his whiskey?” Harrison said from behind me.

  Good, I wasn’t the only one who had noticed it.

  I didn’t want him to think I was a helicopter wife, like those parents at the park who constantly hovered over their children so they wouldn’t fall and break something, so I went to close the door. Before I did, though, I noticed another shadow coming up from behind him.

  “Is that Susan?” Harrison said.

  “Yeah,” I said. I had never warmed up to the old bitch. She was evil wrapped in pink fluff, sort of like ambrosia salad. I’d never met one that I liked. Texture was important to me—even with people.

  Cash kept her around because of a debt his old man had owed. She’d needed the job, wanted it even, to keep her busy, and there she was.

  Cash had stopped at the same time I’d noticed her shadow creep up. Though the lights were dim, I could see that she was upset. She waved her hands some, and I heard her sniffing. If I really narrowed my eyes, I could see that her eyes were red-rimmed, and the tip of her nose was an even brighter red.

  “Like a sadistic Rudolph,” Harrison muttered, and I elbowed him. He made a breathless noise before he started laughing—it was quiet, but it was there.

  “You better stop that nonsense. Or you might wake up the queen.” I rolled my eyes. Mac’s cousin, Gigi, was upstairs sleeping. “Come on.” I backed up some. “Let’s go wait in the—”

  Susan called Cash down to her, and as he leaned in closer, she came out with a knife from the pocket of her cardigan and stabbed him in the neck with it.

  The roar that echoed in the night was not from Cash, but from me. He stumbled back, and when he did, another shadow grew solid and turned into a man who stabbed him in the back. More shadows started to harden into men, all with glinting knives ready to butcher my husband.

  Harrison was already screaming for my brothers to move, but I was already to the closet, pulling out my bow and arrows.

  Lachlan held out an arm to stop me before I made it outside. “Kee,” he said, his eyes serious. “If Kelly isn’t who you—”

  “Move your fucking hand or I’ll break it,” I hissed. I took an arrow, licked it down the center, and loosed the first one before I was out of the door.

  It went straight through Susan’s neck, blood squirting in all directions, her hand going to grab for it before she fell to her knees. The stunned look on her face was the last thing I saw before I sent another arrow through a man’s back. His body arched forward before he fell to the ground. The arrow had gone straight through to his heart.

  Cash stumbled, going for something in his pocket, but there were too many of them. It was like they were stabbing at a wild animal, herding him into a corner so they could skin him.

  “Not today, motherfuckers, not as long as I’m alive,” I said, releasing arrows as fast I could. It took a few minutes for the men still standing to realize where the arrows and bullets—between my brothers and me—were coming from. When they did, they stopped stabbing my husband and came after us.

  I didn’t even realize that my brothers had guns, and bright sparks along with deafening booms were going off in the night. There were still plenty of them, and I was shooting arrows as fast as I could, all the while making my way toward Cash, who had fallen. He was on the ground, and before anyone else could get to him, I stood in front, my bow raised, an arrow ready, daring another man to come near my husband.

  A few tried, but they fell next to the other men who’d come to kill the marauder of Hell’s Kitchen.

  Something touched my leg and I turned, my bow pointed down, my arrow at the ready.

  “You said you’d take my heart with an arrow someday, my darlin’,” Cash said. “Do it now.” He coughed and blood dripped out of his mouth.

  My chest heaved and I couldn’t move.

  “Kee,” Harrison said, touching my arm. “Keely!”

  All of a sudden, it was like Harrison was screaming inside of my skull and it sent an automatic command to my hands. I dropped the bow and arrow, my knees giving out, right beside my husband on the bloodstained ground. My hands fisted in his torn and soaked shirt, and I set my ear against his heart, listening.

  “Look at me,” he said, barely able to talk. I sat up some, looking him in the eyes. He lifted his hand, going to touch my face, but stopped. “Too narrow,” he breathed out.

  Then he shut his eyes and the breath left my lungs on a cry.

  33

  Keely

  No! Bullshit! I sucked up my tears, keeping my husband’s shirt locked in my grip. I looked down at him. “No one—no fucking one—is allowed to kill you, Cash Kelly, but me! Do you hear me?”

  I looked up at my brothers, who were all huddled around my husband and me, ready to act if someone else came out of nowhere. “Harrison,” I said, “put pressure on his neck. Now!” I looked at Lachlan. “See if any of the other spots are as bad. Hold pressure. You, too, Declan.” They all nodded and started to move around me. “Owen.”

  My brother stood there, staring at Cash. “Owen!” I screamed. He blinked before he looked at me. “Give me your phone!”

  “Kee, he’s—”

  “You don’t get to tell me what he is! Give me your phone! Now!” I held out my hand, and he set his phone in my palm. “Keep an eye out,” I told him while I dialed the number. Mari picked up on the second ring.

  “Kee? What’s—”

  “Mac,” I said, my voice breaking a little at the sound of her voice. “Put him on the phone!”

&
nbsp; I heard the phone move and then Mac said, “My wife’s friend.”

  “Your uncle,” I said, and another cry left my mouth before I could stop it. I put a hand over my lips to cover it, but all I could smell was blood. I could taste it. “I need him. Here. My husband is dying!”

  Mac’s uncle was Tito Sala. I’d heard things about him. How he took care of the Fausti family personally. He was a damn good doctor, and if he couldn’t save your physical body, no one else could. I’d met him once, seen him around a few times, and even though we didn’t speak much, something about him made me think the rumors were true.

  “Ten minutes,” Mac said. “He’ll be there, Keely.” Then he hung up.

  We all kept pressure on the spots that seemed the worst. They’d cut him up like they were trying to slaughter an animal. Stripes. He was going to have so many stripes after this.

  It was the longest ten minutes of my fucking life.

  Tito Sala hurried onto the scene, and I finally felt like I could breathe again. He had a woman with him, another doctor—he called her Dr. Carter—and together they started to do what they could on the sidewalk. They murmured back and forth. The main thing that stuck out to me was the word “artery.” That evil bitch had almost nicked it. If she had, he would’ve already been dead.

  An ambulance arrived a minute later, the lights going around and around on all of the dead that littered the street. The feathers on my arrows were green, and they looked gruesome in the glow of the red lights.

  Harrison put his arm around me as they lifted my husband and set him on the gurney. Dr. Sala and Dr. Carter ran with them, shouting out orders.

  I went to run behind them, but Harrison kept me in place. “This is where we need to go.” He showed me his phone. Mac had texted him an address. I didn’t recognize it.