All of the Lights

by K. Ryan

  So my fingers fly over my keyboard and then I lift up the text for Jack to see before I hit send: I'm going to come in a few hours later tomorrow then. If I close tonight, you'll have to pay me overtime tomorrow and I know you can't afford that right now.

  Jack's eyebrows lift and his lips pull apart in an impressed nod.

  Lucy texts back a few moments later: Okay. I guess that makes sense.

  "Of course it does," Jack shakes his head when I show him her response. "It's called good business sense."

  "Yeah," I laugh. "I wish she had some of that."

  "Why does she own a business then?"

  I just shake my head. "Your guess is as good as mine."

  A heavy sigh works its way from my lungs as I stare out the passenger side window. My mind just can't help itself, ever the masochistic bitch that it is, and I wonder about the plans Jack has with Brennan tonight. I bet they're going to spend the whole night eating greasy food, drinking beer, and watching a Sox game, probably laughing the whole time and having fun together. I can't remember the last time I had fun with my sister, let alone the last time we did something together just because we wanted to spend time with each other.

  It doesn't have to be that way. I could take the first step and I don't know, go out for coffee, shopping, or something that would be just the two of us, but I just don't know how to have a normal relationship with her that doesn't include guilt or some kind of manipulation from the mayor.

  My thoughts drift to Brennan and Sean. What would it be like to really know them? To really be part of their lives? I'd like to believe things could be different with them, even if that's just wishful thinking. It's already different with Sean—when he found out who I was, he didn't blame me. Instead, he wanted to know me, he wanted to make sure I was alright, even if I didn't know he was there. I don't know much about relationships between brothers and sisters, but I feel like Sean has already been the best big brother a girl could ask for.

  And then the words just tumble out of me before I can stop them: "Hey, Jack?"

  He turns to me and his eyes soften. "Yeah?"

  "Can you tell me something about Sean?"

  "Like what?" he frowns.

  "I don't know," I lift a shoulder as my gaze drifts back to the street. "Something most people don't know about him. Something funny?"

  He nods carefully and scratches underneath the dark scruff on his chin in thought. "Something funny, huh?"

  My lips curve up in a smile as I watch him mull it over. His head tilts up to the ceiling and he squints a little before he snaps his fingers.

  "Ah! I know," he turns to me with a wide grin. "Most people know Sean is a die-hard Pats fan. I think he'd drop on his knees and bow if he ever saw Brady in person if yah know what I mean. Anyway, that's not the point," he waves a hand in the air and I can feel my smile deepening the longer he talks. "He gets wicked nervous during the games. I'm talkin' pacing around the house, up and down the stairs, in and out of every room...that sort of thing, yah know?"

  He waits for me to nod before continuing. "Well, eventually, the pacing stopped working, so he had to find other ways to, uh, expend his nervous energy, as Ma called it." If he sees me bristle at the mention of his mom, he doesn't show it. "So it was exercise. Push-ups, sit-ups, you name it. He'd run in place. Run up and down the stairs between commercial breaks. Sometimes he'd even take a few laps around the block during halftime."

  "Wow," I lift an eyebrow and bite down on my bottom lip to hide a laugh. "That's some serious dedication."

  "Yeah," Jack's grey eyes flash with mischief and I know we're about to get to the good part now. "So about ten years ago, Sean's all amped-up during the championship game and he's on the stairs, running up and down like nobody's business. You know, now that I think about it, it's even worse because the Pats were up the whole game. The Steelers didn't have a chance in hell of winning, but there's Sean, freaking out over every little play." He skates his hand up in the air to demonstrate. "Up the stairs, down the stairs. It was mad crazy. So we're all in the living room, watching the game on the couch like normal people, and Brady gets intercepted. We're freaking out—yelling and screaming and swearing up a storm—and then all of a sudden, we hear a thud. And then another. And another. And then this wicked loud crash. We all go running and there's Sean, all crumpled up at the bottom of the stairs, moaning and crying on the floor."

  My shoulders are shaking with laughter now and Jack isn't far behind.

  "Ma's freaking out because her baby's hurt," he laughs. "And Sean is still hollering and crying and then we have to decide: do we take him to the emergency room or do we finish watchin' the game?"

  "Oh no," I cover my mouth with my hand. "You finished watching the game?"

  "We left it up to Sean," he shrugs with a grin. "What? It was the division championship! There was still 20 minutes left and no one wanted to watch it on a tiny TV in the ER. So we gave him some ice, held him down on the couch so he couldn't get up, and then we took him to the ER after the game was over. The idiot tripped right at the top of the stairs when he heard us yelling and hit every step on the way down. Broke his arm in three places."

  "Oh God," my shoulders are trembling with laughter now and I can't stop it.

  "He had to get one of those metal rods put in," Jack chuckles and shakes his head at the memory. "At least we covered for him and told everybody he fell off the roof taking down Ma's Christmas lights."

  I lift an eyebrow. "And that's better than admitting he fell down the stairs watching a Pats game?"

  "It is in my neighborhood. He never would've lived that one down if anyone knew what really happened."

  My heart clenches at what this means. He's just told me something only his family members know about my brother, a family secret of sorts, and I just want to lean in closer to him. His musk already fills up the truck—a heady concoction of pine and fresh rain—and if I do lean in closer, I'm terrified of what else I might do, what else I might say. So I keep my distance, even if I can only get a few feet away.

  "Thank you for telling me that," I whisper as I let my eyes drift back over to him again.

  His lips pull apart in an easy smile. "No problem."

  After that, I don't know what else to say. His gaze lingers, or maybe my eyes are just playing tricks on me, and then he blows out a deep breath as he folds his arms underneath his head behind his seat. We endure a few more moments of awkward silence before we finally see what we've been waiting for: some movement from the restaurant. Jack jerks up to the steering wheel and leans forward just enough to get a closer look while I ready the camera on my phone.

  As soon as the mayor emerges, it's just more of the same thing we've seen all week. He slides smoothly into the car idling by the side of the street and then the car drives away. Jack jumps into action, shifting into drive and takes us around the block so we can get a view at the back of the restaurant, but it's too late. There isn't a car or person in sight.

  "Goddammit!" Jack smacks his hand on the steering wheel.

  I swallow tightly, but I feel the tension just as much as Jack does. Maybe he was right before. We can't keep doing this and expect different results every time. It's just not going to happen. The mayor is too smart for that and if he really is meeting with people he shouldn't be, there's always a way to explain it even if we're able to get evidence of the meeting. They were a potential investor, the restaurant owner invited him in for lunch, the owner's an old friend from college...he could say virtually anything and we'd never be able to disprove it completely unless we knew exactly what happened in there.

  And even if we could somehow prove him wrong, I still just don't know how that helps Sean.

  All we have left is the Gianottis. Like playing with fire, it's a gamble we're just going to have to take.

  THE NEXT DAY, all I have to do is just hold out for a few more minutes. At this point, I really should have this routine down, but every time I have to do it, the frustration only deepens. We've on
ly been at this for two weeks and already, I'm just as sick of it as Jack is. I know we need to have patience, that we need to wait until an opportunity arises, but I'm tired of seeing the same song and dance over and over again.

  I glance around the corner, right in position to get all the intel I need, and still nothing yet. The mayor's meeting was supposed to wrap up ten minutes ago and there's still no sign of him. So here I am, reduced to lurking in corners and spying on the one person who can bring us all down with the flick of his finger.

  This entire operation is a house of cards. One wrong move and it'll tumble to the ground at a moment's notice.

  That moment arrives when I come face to face with the mayor, who materializes in the wrong hallway. And by wrong hallway, I mean wrong hallway. His schedule was clear—I'd even checked it with Denise before I started my lurking—and based off the meeting he'd just left, he should've been coming from the completely opposite end of City Hall.

  I'm so thrown off-kilter by this revelation that my mind just completely blanks. The mayor halts right in his tracks, his mouth hanging open a little in surprise, and his eyes narrow ever so slightly. That subtle accusation is enough to jar me back into reality and I have to plaster on a fake smile when he takes a step my way.

  "Dad. Hey," I greet him.

  There's really nothing I can do about how breathless my voice sounds. He's caught me literally red-handed and it's going to be all I can do to just keep from pissing my pants, let alone form a coherent sentence.

  "Raena," he nods tightly and he takes another step toward me, sliding his hands in his front pockets and narrowing his eyes at me. "What brings you here today?"

  "Uh," I swallow hard. Thinking on my feet and lying...those things used to come pretty naturally to me, up until now. Now, I've got nothing. "I, uh...I was just in the neighborhood and I thought I'd swing by."

  He looks at me like how he might appraise a two-year-old and when he finally speaks, each word is slow and clipped. "You were just in the neighborhood."

  "Yeah, uh, I told Lucy that I'd stopped by here earlier this week to see if we could get some lunch together and she thought that was a great idea. You know, because you're always so busy and I thought that maybe if you could spare a little time today or tomorrow—"

  "I'm sorry," he interrupts with a wave of his hand like the motion might somehow make me disappear. "Preparing for the fundraiser gala this weekend has me swamped for the rest of the week. You'll have to tell your sister I'll just have to plan something with her next week."

  I open my mouth to tell him the idea was for all three of us to be together, but those words fall short. Even if it wasn't a lie, I don't want it to be true. And unfortunately for me, that also doesn't ease the sting of yet another rejection.

  So instead, I just nod and reply: "Sure, Dad. I'll make sure I tell her."

  Now I needed to cover my ass with Lucy, too. Just great.

  At the very least, he seems satisfied with the exchange and he sets back on his previous path without another word. It's just as well. I don't think I have it in me to say much else, but by the time I get back to where Bennett and Jack wait for me in the Prius, I'm shaking so hard I can barely get the door open to slide into the back seat. The opposite door opens just a few moments later and Jack slides in next to me as Bennett whips around in the driver's seat with wide eyes.

  "Rae?" Bennett whispers. "What happened?"

  I shake my head and try to push my purse to the ground, but my hands are trembling too much for that to happen easily. My purse suddenly slips off my shoulders and I realize that's because Jack is setting it on the floor next to me.

  "Rae," he murmurs, his grey eyes boring into me. "What happened?"

  I suck in a deep breath and when I exhale, the words come tumbling out. "He saw me."

  "Shit," Jack winces and scrubs both hands across his face.

  Bennett twists even deeper into his seat. "Are you okay?"

  I nod as much as I can muster, but it's weak. Just like me. Weak and shaken. Helpless and useless.

  "Just drive, Benn," Jack tells him quietly.

  That snaps me out of it and I jerk my head toward the front seat. "What do you mean? We haven't seen him leave yet."

  "We can't tail him today," Jack shakes his head at me. "Not after he saw you. It's too risky."

  All the air rushes out of my lungs and I squeeze my eyes shut. This can't be happening. I've ruined everything—there's no way we can keep tailing him now, not with the mayor's suspicion weighing on me.

  "Look," Jack's voice feels like it's right next to my ear. "It was bound to happen eventually. We all know that. It's not your fault, Rae, okay? We'll figure something else out, especially now that Brennan's set up that meeting for me tonight."

  "Tonight?"

  "Yeah," he shrugs. "It'll be good, I'll scope everything out, see what the Gianottis really want from me and then I can scope out what kind of security they have around them."

  "By yourself? What happened to—"

  "I'll be with Brennan. It'll be fine."

  God. He really isn't going to back down from this. Jack setting up a fight with anyone connected to the Gianotti brothers still seems like the worst idea I've ever heard, but then again, he's right about this too. Now that the mayor's onto me, if he wasn't before, we're all out of other options.

  "Where's the meeting?"

  "At one of their clubs in the North End."

  Now, I see an opportunity and decide to take it. "So then Benn and I can hang out in the background and I can see if I recognize anyone. Sounds perfect."

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bennett calls out from the driver's seat and waves a finger in the air just for good measure. "Who said anything about hanging out in the background?"

  "And," Jack eyes me carefully as he speaks. "I thought you had to close tonight."

  "I do," I just lift a shoulder. "But it's not like Benn and I can't drop in after I'm done at the store."

  Jack's gaze clouds over and he shakes his head. "I don't know what the security's gonna be like there and I won't be able to help you guys if you get into trouble. Besides, what happens if someone recognizes you? Why don't we just wait to see how this first meeting goes and take it from there?"

  The problem is that I don't want to wait. I don't want to sit on my hands in my apartment tonight and wonder what's happening at that club without me. I don't want to miss a chance to finally find something we can use.

  "I'm pretty sure you were the one who said nobody can go off on their own and Brennan doesn't count because he doesn't know what's going on. Maybe nothing will come of it, but we have to try. What if I recognize someone? That would be the breakthrough we're looking for."

  Jack's eyebrows knit together and I can see the wheels in his head turning, trying to find a way out of this. It's his own fault for setting up that meeting without really talking to me about it—him mentioning it in passing once the call was already made doesn't count. We need to gain some ground and this might be the only way to do it.

  "Well," Bennett offers as he turns into the parking lot for a drive-thru. "To be fair, when Rae and I went to Na Soilse, no one recognized her. Not even you, my friend."

  Jack resorts to chewing on his bottom lip and he glances at me for just a second before shifting his hard gaze out the window.

  "I think all of the lights in that club might help keep us hidden a little," he continues, shooting me a quick, supportive grin from the rearview mirror. "You know, all the flashing and strobing or whatever? No one will even see her, let alone know who she is. And if someone does, I'll get her out of there."

  Jack opens his mouth to reply, but I cut him off.

  "And if it should somehow get back to the mayor that Benn and I were there, all I have to do is say I didn't know who owned it and that we just wanted to try out a new club."

  It's a dangerous, risky little game we're playing here, but I don't know any other way to play it. And, it seems, neither does Jack. He pushes out a
deep, resigned sigh and runs a hand over his face before finally meeting my gaze again.

  "I guess I can't stop you if that's what you really wanna do."

  My lips break apart into a wide, victorious grin and his mouth quirks up a little before he turns his attention to the front of the car to tell Bennett what to order for him. That's the most I get from him the rest of the time he's in the car and something about that hits me deeper than I'd like.

  "CAUSE PENNY AND me like to roll the windows down..." Bennett sings along as we wave a hand in the air through our rolled down windows. He nods to me and now it's my turn. Luckily for me, we dropped Jack off at his truck before Bennett decided to fill his Prius with the sounds of the musical trinity known as Hanson.

  "Close our eyes, pretend to fly," I sing and for a moment, I really do close my eyes. The stress of this day is behind me now, if only for this moment when I'm here, alone in this car with my best friend, free to let everything else go because I know Bennett will catch me.

  Bennett joins in with me for the last line of the chorus, "It's always Penny and me tonight."

  I'm still smiling, even though the only real reasons I have to smile today are the sun and the wind on my face, when my phone buzzes in my purse. My lips turn down when I don't recognize the number calling me, but I still swipe across the screen anyway to hear: This is a collect call from...and then I hear a distinct, familiar voice...Sean Callahan...the automated voice returns to finish out the message, an inmate at the Massachusetts Correctional Institute in Concord. If you would like to accept this call, press one.

  My hands are shaking, but I somehow hit the right button as my heart leaps up into my throat.

  "Hello?"

  Then I hear that voice again. "Hey, Rae."

  "Hey, Sean."

  I squeeze my eyes shut to fight off the stinging, but a tear slips down my cheek despite my best efforts. My head turns just enough to find Bennett observing with both eyebrows lodged high into his forehead and I swallow tightly.