by K. Ryan
My lips part, but all I can do is inhale sharply. What can I possibly say or do? He's won and he knows it.
"My generosity only extends for the next 24 hours. If you choose to disobey, if you choose to contact any authorities or media outlets, all I have to do is say the word and Sean Callahan will suffer an unfortunate accident in prison. Brennan Callahan will mysteriously disappear. Jack Flynn will succumb to injuries sustained in a fight. Bennett Kelly will suffer through a terrible beating on the street and the police will have no other choice but to chalk it up to another hate crime. Or perhaps, if you'd prefer, I could have your other knee smashed. Perhaps I'll just finish the job altogether and rid myself of you once and for all. You know I can and I will if you leave me no other choice."
I shake my head. My objection doesn't matter. It never did.
"I'm surprised, given all the information you stole from me, that you never connected me to your attack seven years ago. It wasn't really about you, of course. It was meant to send a message and it succeeded."
So that was the missing piece of the puzzle. The one detail I should've figured out from the start. Nero Gianotti attacked me that night because the mayor ordered him to and most likely paid him handsomely when the job was done. I wonder what else he's conveniently left off his records, what else he's done that he's concealed from view.
"What about Lucy?" I hear myself asking with a foreign, hoarse voice.
His eyes narrow. "Luciana is the reason I've decided to spare your life. It would hurt her too much if anything ever happened to you. She'll just have to accept your disappearance and I don't care what excuses you give her after you've gone."
How generous of him. Having me killed would be too messy, too difficult to explain away.
And now, as Jack swings his fist around, connecting with his opponent's jaw and slamming him against the ropes, it doesn't matter if he wins because we've already lost. Even if he senses the way the tides have turned against us, he continues to furiously pummel the other fighter until the ref raises his fist in victory with his opponent a bloody, messy heap on the floor in front of him—almost as if he does know, almost as if he's taking this one last opportunity to defy the stars.
The mayor sighs dramatically next to me and gestures toward the fallen Italian fighter on the floor. "What a shame. I put a substantial amount of money on that one too. I suppose it's all decided now. I did warn them."
My eyes narrow at his word choice, but I can't call him on it. I can barely form a coherent thought, let alone engage in a battle of words and wits against him when I've been so thoroughly bested at my own game. When he waves a hand at the door, my limbs lock up in my seat.
"Go on now," he waves at the door again. "My security at the door knows he's supposed to let you out. Remember what I said: 24 hours. That's all."
Even as I stumble to my feet, he dismisses my presence, choosing instead to unearth his phone from his pocket rather than giving me another glance. He starts speaking lowly to someone on the other end and the only words I can make out are "it's done" and "you know what to do".
That has me hustling out of that room, practically tumbling past the bodyguard standing watch at the door. I scramble for my phone in my purse, dialing Jack's number as fast as I can, but I get nothing. There's a certain implication in the mayor's words that chills me to the bone and has my heart running rampant in my chest. And by the time I hobble down the stairs to get to the main floor, my bad knee has reared its ugly head, doing everything in its power to slow me down, to remind me of what the mayor is capable of.
When I burst onto the floor, my eyes scan the room for any sign of him, Brennan, or Father Lindsay just in time for the atmosphere to collapse in an eruption of screams and gunshots. The ground rumbles with pounding footsteps as the thousands crammed inside this main floor shriek and barrel for the nearest exit. Finally, pushing and shoving against the people spilling out around me, I spot him. Jack is on the complete opposite side of the room, heading right for the stairway leading to the VIP rooms.
"Jack!" I scream, waving my hands as high as I can in a vain attempt at getting his attention. I scream myself hoarse until his head finally turns in my direction, his eyes wide and searching for my voice.
In a flash, he changes course, practically vaulting over the stairway to get out in front of the people in his way. I follow suit, pushing my way through the throngs, only to be pitched backward with every step I gain.
There are just too many bodies, too much hysteria as more gunshots echo through the building to keep my feet on solid ground. I feel myself falling, shoved out of the way, pummeled to the side, and finally my knee gives out on me and I tumble to the concrete. Someone graciously yanks me up to my feet, but is already gone before I have a chance to see who's just saved me. I guess it doesn't really matter anyway.
"Rae!"
Jack's voice slices through the pandemonium. So close. My head whips around at the sound and my heart lurches in my chest when I finally feel his bare, sweaty arms close around my body, shielding me, protecting me, reassuring me.
"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he murmurs frantically in my ear. "Talk to me, Rae."
There's no time.
A masked man sneaks up behind Brennan, who's just ten feet away from us, and then my brother jerks to the side, his eyes bulging out of his head as crimson spurts down his chin. He jerks one more time before falling back against Father Lindsay, his light eyes unfocused and hazy with agony.
I shove out of Jack's arms as everything seems to happen in slow motion. We fall to Brennan's side. Jack scoops our brother up in his arms and holds him tight, his hands covering the knife wound, screaming for help, and I dial 911, barely able to hear the dispatcher in the shuffle, but we all know it's too late. Blood pools on the floor, staining our legs, our hands, our hearts.
"An ambulance is on its way," Jack tells him frantically. "It's gonna be okay."
"Shut up," Brennan laughs, but it sounds more like a cough. More blood splatters his chin. "If nobody cares about a kid getting stabbed in Southie, they definitely don't give a shit about a kid from Southie getting stabbed outside of it."
I stifle a sob at the word, stabbed, and bring a hand up to my mouth. The movement freezes the second I glance down to see my blood-stained skin. Brennan's blood. My brother's blood is all over my hands.
"I guess we should've seen this coming, huh? He warned us when he told us not to get in his way again," Brennan laughs again, weaker and more hollow this time. His life is fading right before our eyes and there's nothing we can do about it. He jerks his chin up to Father Lindsay, who's crouched next to us in this pool of blood. "How 'bout yah give me my last rites, Father?"
The priest's ashen face twists with pain and grief and he squeezes his eyes shut just long enough to get his bearings. Jack bites back a sob as Brennan reaches for his hand and then he turns to me, his light eyes a little more clearer than before. As Father Lindsay makes the sign of the cross over his head, my brother lifts his free hand out to me. I slide my hand into his and he squeezes it once.
Tears fall freely now. My skin is soaked with salt and grief.
"I'm sorry I'm gonna be able to come to dinner next week," Brennan murmurs. "I really wanted to be there, but I guess things just didn't work out that way, huh?"
A heavy sob erupts from my throat, but somehow I find the strength to give him what he needs and nod. I want to tell him I don't care about dinner, that this is all that matters—my hand in his and both of us ready and willing to finally build a relationship, but it's too late for that, isn't it? It's just too late. And the tragedy of that, the days lost, the love lost, the time lost...when will we stop paying for the sins of our parents? When will we finally find some peace in this world they've created for us?
"Will you tell Shannon I'm sorry I didn't listen? Will you tell her I love her? And this feckin' guy..." he gestures with his head toward Jack. "Take care of this guy, okay?"
My shoulders tremble, my b
ody aches, and a fresh set of sobs rack my body, furiously taking hold of what's left as I let myself nod one last time.
Father Lindsay's hushed voice is all I can focus on.
"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name..." and then Brennan's weak voice joins him. "Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven..." Jack's agonized voice chimes in and I find myself following suit. This is one of the only prayers I know and I won't fail Brennan now. "Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us."
With each word, Brennan's voice fades away, the sound becoming more distant, more hollow, and yet still, we press on through our tears.
"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
My eyes lift at that moment to find the mayor watching from behind his glass window.
"For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory."
Brennan's eyes shutter and they never open again.
"For ever and ever," I whisper through my tears.
Jack's shoulders shake with sobs and he holds the departed body close to his chest, refusing to let go, refusing to give in.
"Amen."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jack
My arms tighten around Rae when she shifts against me on my couch. Wetness coats my shoulder as her body trembles and shakes. I'm so cold. Numb to the feelings threatening to bubble up to the surface.
I guess there's only so much you can do when your brother dies in your arms and the only thing you can do to help is say a worthless prayer with a priest to usher him into heaven.
If I let myself feel the pain peeking in through the cracks, then there will be no way to stop everything else that will follow. I'll have to lock myself in a room to keep from barreling through the streets of this city, banging down every door until I find that sick son of a bitch who ordered the murder of my brother, wrap my hands around his neck, and smother the miserable life out of him.
I'm pretty sure that's not going to help us now, not when we have to hole up in my apartment because we can't go back to hers. Not with Moretti and his men sniffing around and definitely not after the way he threatened her tonight.
Rae is all I have left now, the only thing worth anything anymore, and I have to protect her or else I'll just lose her too. Just like Brennan.
God.
My brother is dead.
I'll never see him again. Never laugh with him again. Never fight with him again. And we never really made it right—never really had a chance to sit down and talk everything through. I'll never get the chance to explain, never get the chance to bring everybody all together under one roof. He'll never be in my corner again in a fight. We'll never go to another Sox game together. We'll never have another talk over beers again. Because he's gone. My brother is gone.
I don't think I'll survive the night if I can't wrap my arms around her.
"Let's go lie down or something," I whisper in her hair. "Try to get a few hours of sleep. Then we can go back to your place and get everything you need before we leave."
It's not a question of whether or not I'm going with her. It's just a question of how and where we'll end up. I don't really care at this point because all I want to do is just scoop her up—and maybe her demon cat, too—and run as fast as I can.
Rae pulls away from me, wipes her face with the back of her hand, and her green eyes sharpen into twin stones of jade. Shit. I know that look all too well.
"Brennan was just murdered right in front of us and that's all you have to say?"
I mourn and she seethes. Sounds about right.
"I don't want to talk about it right now. What is there to say? He's dead, Rae," my voice breaks on those words. "He's dead and we're still here. We can't forget that."
What we need to focus on now is a getaway plan. We can deal with everything else later because we've got this invisible timer running above our heads and the longer we wait, the more opportunity Moretti has to come back and make good on his threat to kill her. Time, location, materials, it's all of the essence here and we don't have much to spare.
"Do you still know people in Philly? People we could stay with until we figure something out long-term?"
She sighs heavily and lifts a hand to my cheek, letting her fingers tangle in the scruff she finds there. "Maybe. I don't know if I want to put anyone else in a situation where they could get hurt though. Are we better off just holing up in a hotel somewhere until we know he'll actually leave me alone?"
That's not a bad plan. Better to be safe than sorry, especially in light of recent events. I glance down at my hands. It's faint, but it's still there. Stains. Dried lines of my brother's blood. Seeped in murder and regret. No matter how hard I scrub, I don't know if I'll ever be free of it.
I should've pulled out of that fight. I should've listened. I should've sensed the danger and the risk before ever stepping underneath the ropes, before I ever swung a fist. The moment I realized Rae was sitting in that VIP room, I knew it was over. My only option, rather than stop the fight and draw any attention to her, was just to proceed like we'd planned and pray I'd be able to get to her in time. It was a gamble and I'd lost. Horrifically lost.
"Maybe you should get out your iPad and we'll make a list of everything we need to do before we lit out of here," I suggest evenly. Trying to be helpful and actually succeeding, however, are two very different things.
She just shakes her head and points to her temple. "It's all up here. I know what we need to do, but if talking it through will help you, then maybe we should."
It's pretty simple. We need clothes, money, identification, transportation, and a destination.
"Should we call Benn?" I ask instead. "Your sister?"
"No," she shakes her head furiously. "We're not getting them involved. We're not putting them at risk...at least not if we can help it."
Rae puts some more distance between us, sliding away just enough to put her out of arm's reach and I instinctively counter, closing the distance and reaching for her once more. She leans into my touch for a short moment, then pulls away again.
"You don't have to come with me, you know," she whispers. So firm in her resolve to let me off the hook. So terrified I might actually take the out. "This isn't about you and you shouldn't have to pack up and leave everything just because he says I have to. It's really okay—if you feel like you have to help me leave, I'm not going to say no, but I'm not going to let you feel obligated to do anything else."
I don't hesitate. "Forget it, Rae. I'm coming with you."
Her face twists with things I don't like seeing there: doubt, hesitation, and fear. "Why? You don't have to...we've only been together, what? Two days? Officially? And at the end of the day, this is all my fault. If I'd pushed us to do something sooner, if I hadn't made us wait, Brennan would still be alive. God, if I'd never started all this in the first place, he'd still be alive. All I did was just make everything worse and now he's dead and he's never coming back. Sean is in prison because of me. Brennan is dead because of me. Why would you want to have anything to do with me when all I do is destroy everything I touch?"
"This was not your fault," I tell her, my hands cupping both her cheeks to force her to look at me, to force her to hear me. "You didn't order that hit. You had nothing to do with happened tonight. And if you are to blame, then so am I. The only reason that fight happened in the first place was because I wanted to spite Roark Callahan. That's the truth. And now Brennan's dead—God, we were like sitting ducks in that damn place. I should've known better. I should've listened, but I didn't and now he's dead. There are so many other things here to blame: the mayor, this election, my stupidity...but you're not one of them, Rae."
She just shakes her head against my hands. New tears stream down her face and then her shoulders tremble as her entire body seems to crumble in on itself.
"I never even got a chance to really know him," she whispers and squee
zes her eyes shut. "I feel like it was stolen from us."
I don't want to waste any time imagining what might have been, but I just can't help it. Things could've turned around for them, for all of us, and she's right—that chance was ripped away before we even really got a grip on it. That dinner we'd planned just a few days ago, that would've been the start. If we'd had more time, if we'd had more opportunity, Brennan could've found a way to look past the history, the same way Sean has, and those guys would've reveled in having a little sister. Two big brothers, just looking out for their sister, giving her new boyfriend a hard time...yeah, I could see it. That could've happened—and everything that could've followed, shared family dinners, trips, celebrations of birthdays and new arrivals, Christmases and New Years, hundreds and hundreds of Pats and Sox games...
It's never going to happen now. At least not with Brennan.
"He would've loved you," I murmur hoarsely. "He would've welcomed you into the family—there's no doubt in my mind, Rae. You guys were already headed there, but—"
"We never got the chance," she cuts in as she wipes some more tears from her face.
My hands leave her face, but they don't get very far. I envelope her in the only thing I can give her. It's not enough, but this is all I've got. Just this little bit of comfort, this little bit of reassurance that somewhere, in another life and another time, Brennan could've been part of the family she never had.
"You still have Sean," I tell her as my thumb catches another stray tear. "You still have Lucy. And you still have me."
"That doesn't mean you have to come with me, you know."
My lips curl up into a pained smile. This isn't how I expected I'd tell her this, but here we are. Hands tied behind my back with no other options. Finally ready to admit something I knew was true a long time ago. It's the only way she'll truly understand, too, why I just can't sever myself from her.
"I'm coming with you because I love you, Rae. I'm not going anywhere you're not. If you have to leave, then I have to leave too. "