by Hamel, B. B.
“Let him.” I continued to hold her hands, and wanted to get away from here. All those mafioso, all the Capos and soldiers, all the men I’d grown up with, I felt like they were a dream, some distant version of myself that was gone.
After I killed Fergal, the war lost steam. I thought it’d break out into raging fires as the Healys tried to hit us back, but instead they went quiet. I heard on the streets that the Healys were consolidating their strength, and that there were internal squabbles over who would take Fergal’s position in the hierarchy. I hoped they’d keep fighting forever, because I had enough blood on my hands to last a lifetime.
“Come on,” I said, and tugged her close to me. “Let’s go enjoy this while we can, okay?”
“Sounds good to me.” She beamed up and shook her head. “This is crazy, right? Loving each other?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “It feels good and that’s all I care about.”
I led her back to the party. The photographer did his thing again as we went through the usual shit: first dance, cake cutting, all that crap. The sun slowly went down, and massive lights were brought out. The dance floor was a patch of mown grass, and the DJ dumped tunes loud enough that the entire park was a party.
“What do you think?” Dean asked me as we stood near the bar. Tara danced with the Don and a couple Capos, her hair swaying around her shoulders, grinning huge, cheeks pink, perfect.
“I think being married’s not so bad.”
Dean laughed. “You’ve been married for a few hours,” he said. “The hard stuff hasn’t happened yet.”
“I don’t know.” I sipped my drink. “It’s not so bad, when you’ve got the right girl.”
“Well, shit, I’d better find the right one then,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Seen too many fucked-up, broken families in this line of work. I don’t want that for myself, my wife, or my kids.”
“Got to find the right girl,” I said, nodding. “Then you can worry about making kids.”
“You think you’ll get her pregnant?” he asked seriously. “I mean, you really want a family?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “For her, I think I would.”
“Damn,” he said. “It’s real then, isn’t it?”
I nodded seriously. “I think it is.”
“Good for you.” He seemed thoughtful. “I don’t know how my father will feel about that, though. He wants you to pump her for information.”
“He knows how I feel about all that.”
“And he still thinks you’ll do it anyway.”
I clutched my glass and turned to him. “I might have to leave,” I said, meeting his gaze. “If your father goes into the girl trade. I might have to cut town, because I won’t be a part of that.”
Dean nodded slowly and seemed more sad than angry. “I figured that’s what you’d do,” he said. “And honestly, you have my blessing. I’m not happy about this decision. Maybe not as mad as you are, but I’m not happy.”
“So what are you gonna do about it?” I asked.
And he only shook his head.
The party kept going late. I danced with my bride, with some of the other mafia guys’ wives, before I found myself out on the edge of the tables, sipping whiskey as people slowly melted off into the night. Only the most hardcore were left. The Don left hours ago, and Dean was a wasted wreck. I’d have to make sure he got home all right. Ah, hell, someone else could do that. It was my wedding, after all.
I heard a whistle nearby. I turned and saw a guy coming toward me, wearing a slim black suit, his hair slicked back. I watched him curiously, head tilted to one side.
Colm Healy stayed back, out of the edge of the light.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I said.
He shrugged a bit. “Thought I’d come wish you a happy wedding,” he said. “I know I’m not invited, which is why I’m so late.”
“You going to stay for a drink?” I asked.
He gave me a sharp smile and shook his head. “Better not. I hear they don’t like me much around these parts.”
I shrugged a little and moved back to join him. I should’ve been more on edge, but for some reason it felt like we had an unspoken truce.
“That bullet was meant for you, you know,” I said softly. “I thought you lived there. Not Fergal.”
“I thought as much,” he said. “Shame you got him and not me. I’m sure your Don would’ve loved if you’d caught me in bed instead of my poor, departed brother.”
“He wasn’t too upset about it,” I said. “Considering what you did to him.”
Colm’s lips twitched into a smile. “There’s been a fair bit of blood spilled between our families, and the war hasn’t even begun, not really.”
“You still think it’s going to?” I asked. “It’s not too late to stop this. The Healy family has a good territory. You bring in plenty of money. No need to push onto Valentino turf.”
Colm let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “You probably don’t know this, but I wasn’t the first head of the Healy family,” he said.
“I thought you started it,” I said, frowning a bit.
“That was my father,” Colm said. “He doesn’t get much credit anymore, but he was the first one to bring all the cousins together and get them to work together. We had a big family, you see, and it’s only gotten larger over the years.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said, smiling a little. Tara twirled with Dean, who could barely keep upright.
“You could’ve been a part of all that, once upon a time,” Colm said. “If I’d been smarter, or been able to see further, I would’ve taken you in.”
“Instead, the Valentinos got me,” I said.
“I wonder about that.” Colm tilted his head. “You think they took you in out of the goodness of their hearts? Or because my family was growing, and it was a chance to poach one of my own away?”
I didn’t look at him and took a long sip. I’d considered that already. It was one of the first things I realized, back when I was a kid, and I also knew it didn’t matter. All that mattered was how they treated me, and the Don brought me up alongside his own son, and taught me everything I knew. It didn’t matter if the Don’s motives were selfish in the beginning.
All that mattered was where I ended up.
“Why are you here?” I asked finally. “If someone else spots you, I’m going to have to kill you. I’d rather not though, since it’s my wedding night.”
“I wanted to warn you,” Colm said. “And offer you a deal.”
“All right,” Ewan said. “Speak.”
“This war’s going to heat up, one way or another,” he said. “I can’t keep control of my family without trying to expand. They grow too hungry, and I’ve got too many mouths to feed.”
“Then that’s how it’ll have to be,” I said, shrugging slightly.
“The deal is this. If you stay out of the fighting, then I’ll leave your Don alone.”
I frowned deeply and tilted my head toward him. “What do you mean?”
“I won’t try to kill him again,” Colm said. “I think I could manage it, if I really tried. Your Don is smart, but he’s not careful with his own safety.”
“Not like you are,” I said, thinking back to Fergal’s head breaking into bloody pieces.
“Not like me,” Colm agreed. “If you promise to stay out, then I promise to only kill everyone else. Your Don will walk free.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good deal for you,” I said. “Killing the Don would win you the war.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I think the war is the goal. Prune my herd of overeager cousins, and provide them with an outlet for all their anger.”
I grunted and shook my head. He was talking about fighting in the streets, all to amuse his family and keep the men from fighting with him. It was a fucked-up reason for a war, but at least it was a reason I understood.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“
You do that.” Colm sounded tired, deeply weary. “I’m not a stupid man, Ewan. I know what you’d be like, if we went to war, and I don’t want you on that battlefield. I’d prefer you far, far away from it, and if I have to spare your Don, then I’ll do it.”
I only nodded at him once, not sure what else to say. He nodded back, turned, and walked off into the night. I thought about chasing him down and killing him with my bare hands, but I couldn’t know how many men he had hiding out in those trees. Maybe that was what he wanted from me, and this whole thing was an elaborate ruse to draw me off.
But I didn’t really think so. That had been a real offer, one made in good faith. He wanted a war to enrich and amuse his family, and he wanted me to stay out of it.
Which worked out fine, since I wanted nothing to do with what was coming.
I slowly walked back to the wedding. Tara grinned at me, kissed me, and tugged me off to dance.
I thought about Colm’s offer for the rest of the night. I’d have to talk to Dean about it, and see what Tara thought of the whole thing, but I knew what I wanted.
It would be painful. It’d mean giving up a part of my life.
But when I pulled Tara close during the last slow song of the night, the moon hanging high in the cloudless sky, I knew it wasn’t much of a sacrifice, considering what I’d gain.
And the choice seemed obvious then.
22
Tara
Two Years Later
I watched a pair of squirrels run down the side of a tree, either fighting or playing or fucking, I couldn’t really tell. They skittered through the leaves and disappeared down the hill along the rocky trail that I hiked most mornings. I breathed the cool, thin Colorado air, and kicked my feet up on a stool.
My belly bulged like a balloon. I kept one hand on it, waiting for the baby to kick. He’d been active all morning, and I loved feeling him. Every new motion gave me a burst of excitement, knowing that was my child there, growing inside of me.
Ewan’s car pulled up the long gravel driveway. I sipped coffee as he got out and carried the groceries over toward me. He stretched and put the bags down at the top of the steps, then stood admiring me with a smile.
He still looked at me the same way I looked at the mountains—and at him—like I couldn’t get enough of them. His eyes shone, like I was still gorgeous, despite the huge pregnancy belly. He looked healthy, muscular from the long workouts and hikes he did. Colorado agreed with him, and he said he slept better in our little cabin than he did anywhere else.
“How are you feeling today, my wife?” he asked, leaning up against the railing.
“Perfect now that you’re home.” I leaned forward, eyeing the bags. “Did you get me some Nutella?”
“Of course I did.” He tossed me a tub. “You know that’s all sugar, right?”
“That’s why it’s good,” I said, tearing it open. I ate the sweet hazelnut spread with my fingers. “Oh, god, that’s the stuff.”
He walked over and sat down next to me. “I always thought I was the only person that could make you say that.”
“Nutella isn’t a person,” I pointed out. “You remain the only man to do it for me.”
“Naturally.” He leaned over and kissed me, which I returned with a passion that never died down.
When we broke apart, he finished putting the groceries away, then let the dogs out. Baxter, a stocky black Lab, sprinted into the leaves followed by Maybe, his younger yellow Lab sister. They barreled around and played, barking and chasing the squirrels off while Ewan sat in the chair next to mine.
We did this most mornings. The dogs ran around, and we lounged in the rocking chairs to watch them. It wouldn’t last much longer—once the baby was here, things would change.
But it’d been a good run. Two years of quiet. Two years of bliss.
“Dean called me last night,” he said softly, offhand, like it was no big deal.
I went very still. Since we left Philadelphia two years ago, we did have much contact with the family. That was the agreement: if we left, we left for good and entirely. It was hard for Ewan, but he thought it was the right thing, even if I wasn’t sure.
Looking back, he was right. We heard snippets of news about what was going on in the city, and it wasn’t good. Things were calm for a few months, but the war with the Healy family exploded, and it was nasty. Bodies in the street, blood and money flowing in the gutters.
We barely escaped all that.
“I’m surprised,” I said. “I thought we weren’t allowed to talk to them anymore.”
“Things changed,” he said, shaking his head. “The Don’s been struggling lately. Dean’s stepping into leadership.”
“Wait, really?” I stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Alzheimer’s they think, or maybe just old age, he didn’t really say. But he’s struggling physically and mentally, and so the Capos got together and voted Dean as the new Don.”
“Wow,” I said, completely blown away. “That’s insane.”
“He invited me back.” He looked down at his fingernails and rubbed them against his plaid shirt.
My heart started to race. The thought of going back to the city made me want to be sick. All the horror in my life, all the bad things, they were all back in Philadelphia. Things were settled out here. We had a house, a really nice house that Ewan bought with cash up in the mountains at the edge of a small town. He worked odd jobs, mostly house construction, while I took a job at a little Italian restaurant in town. We didn’t need the money, but it was good to keep busy.
Turned out, Ewan was rich. Stupidly rich, actually. Unlike most of the mafia guys, he invested his cash, and even paid taxes when necessary, though he had a very creative accountant. We were set for life, assuming the markets didn’t bottom out, which was always possible.
We were happy and comfortable, and I didn’t want to go back.
“What did you say?” I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.
He looked at me like I was crazy. “I told him to fuck off,” he said and laughed. “Why the hell would we go back?”
Relief flooded through me. “I thought you might miss it.”
“Hell, no,” he said. “Maybe I miss the excitement, but I can get that here with you if I need it. No, Tara, I’m not going back to that life, not now, not ever.”
I sighed and he leaned over to kiss me. I kissed him back, and held him there, wanting to feel his lips. I was scared for a second that I’d lose him all over, and if he asked me to go back to Philly with him, I knew I’d say yes. Even if that would cost me so much.
“I’m glad you decided to stay,” I said.
“Please, you’d hate me if I went back,” he said. “Anyway, Dean’s fine. He’s got the family under control. The war with the Healys is still burning up, but he thinks he can make some progress now that the old man’s out of the way.”
“Good for him, I guess.” I shrugged a little bit. “None of that matters anymore.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he said, and put a hand on my belly. “When the baby comes, I’m all yours. You know that?”
“Of course,” I said. “I always knew it.”
Baxter barked, then Maybe joined in. Ewan shouted at them and they ran in circles together. I laughed as Ewan got up to throw a tennis ball for them, and watched as they wrestled together in the leaves.
This was heaven and home. I couldn’t have asked for more, and soon we’d fill this house with babies, as many babies as he’d give me. Philadelphia was across the country, and we’d never go back, no matter how much our past tried to pull us back in.
Ewan turned to me and grinned. “Let’s go inside,” he said. “I’m starved.”
“You’re always starved.” He helped me to my feet. “But if you’re cooking, I’m eating.”
He kissed me on the cheek, and we headed in together, the dogs running around at our feet.
* * *
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