by Raen Smith
Charla’s mind raced to two nights ago. The noise. The door. The bat. She looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes hardening at the thought of Liam breaking into the cottage. “You were in the cottage that night? You broke in?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “But you have to believe me, I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Jesus, Liam.” Her voice strained again. “You scared the shit out of me that night. I heard you.”
“I know,” he said, nodding his head. “I saw you through the window.”
“You saw me?” She slammed the money back in the bag. “You SAW me?”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he repeated, his eyes pleading with her.
“You keep saying that,” she replied, shaking her head. “But it’s too late. A man threatened to kill me over this money, Liam.”
“I didn’t know it would come to this.” He sat down next to her on the bed. She shot off the bed and folded her arms across her chest.
“Jesus, you should have told me. I could have - ”
“You could have what, Charla?”
“I could have told him the money was gone. That someone took it and is headed out to California or something for Christ’s sake,” she stuttered, leaning up against the dresser. She turned to see the picture of Jack and Helen just a few inches from her hand. Jack. They had him to thank for being in this mess. If he would have told the truth from the beginning, she wouldn’t be standing here, her life balancing on a dangerous ledge with no one else to reach out to for help. The only man that could save her was a man who lied to her. Life father like son.
“Come on, Charla.” His voice softened as he stood up. “You know that wouldn’t have worked. It’s better that you didn’t know. You told that guy the truth, and he knew it. So he let you go.”
She picked up the frame and traced Jack’s face with her finger. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie to you,” he replied. “I omitted some information only because I thought I was protecting you. You did the same. You didn’t tell me about Jack being in the mafia right away.”
His words snaked through her skin. She opened her mouth to defend herself but snapped it shut instead. He was right; she hadn’t told him about Jack right away, but she hadn’t believed any of it herself. It wasn’t exactly a topic she could easily bring up in casual conversation after just meeting him. Oh by the way, your dad claimed he was a mafia errand boy. Neither was finding a quarter of a million dollars in a bag in the basement of a cottage.
She set the picture down and met Liam’s eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t have broken into the cottage like that. I wish you would have been able to tell me. I feel so… violated.”
“I’m sorry. I never wanted you to feel that way, but I didn’t know if I could trust you. Hell, I didn’t know what to make of it all.” He took her hand and held it lightly for a second before pressing it against his heart, over his tattoo. “Some beautiful woman delivers a letter to me that says my father is dead, I have two brothers I’ve never known about, and incidentally, there is a quarter of a million dollars stashed away available for my taking. And somehow, I manage to fall for the beautiful woman, even though I know it’s probably not the best idea. There isn’t exactly a manual for this type of shit.”
Charla felt the warmth of his hand consume her. “I don’t know if I can trust you, Liam.”
BANG, BANG, BANG.
Three bangs sounded on the back door. Liam squeezed her hand before letting it go. “I can’t make you trust me, but I’m all you got, Charla, and I’ll do anything to protect you. I swear to you, I won’t let anyone hurt you. You took care of Jack, now it’s my turn to take care of you.”
She exhaled, studying the clench in his jaw and the fierce hardness in his eyes. If there was anyone who would take what he wanted, it was Liam. She wanted to trust him, but the bag of money on the bed left a sour taste in her mouth. She was deep in a completely messed up situation.
BANG, BANG, BANG.
“It’s five.” He brushed his hand lightly against her cheek and gave her one last look before turning back to the bag. He zipped it up and put it back into the safe, closing the door and locking it. “I trust you, Charla.”
“I know,” she whispered as he walked past her and out of the room to answer the door. She walked into the kitchen just in time to see Ronan and Paul standing in the doorway. Ronan stood with his arms folded across his chest while Paul stood hesitantly next to him.
“I see you met each other,” Liam said, holding the door open.
“Yeah,” Ronan said, taking another sideways look at Paul. “I didn’t have a hard time believing you were my brother, but this fuckin’ guy? You sure you got the right one?”
“Come on, now,” Paul said, lifting up his shirt to show Ronan his tattoo. Ronan leaned in to examine his chest and then let out a low laugh. “It’s there.”
“It sure is,” Ronan replied, standing back up and looking around Liam to meet Charla’s eyes. “And it needs some work. I know just the place.”
“Come in,” Liam said, moving away from the door and ushering them in. Liam stuck his head out the door and peered down into the alley before shutting it. “Jerry should be here any minute. You want something to drink?”
“I’ll take a Guinness,” Ronan said, leaning against the counter next to Charla. He winked at her before adding, “It’s been a long day.”
“Make it two,” Paul jumped in.
“You got it.” Liam stuck his head in the refrigerator and emerged with four bottles. He was passing them out when a solitary knock resounded on the door. “That’s Jerry.”
Liam opened the door, letting the familiar man from last night pass through. Jerry looked from one brother to the next and then his eyes fell on Charla. He gave her a small smile before turning back to Liam.
“Looks like you got a full house,” Jerry said. Liam turned back to the fridge, snagged another bottle, and handed it to Jerry.
But Jerry shook his head as he pulled out an envelope from inside his jacket. “Not tonight. We’ve got too much work to do.”
He waved it in the air before walking out of the kitchen and into the living room. He tossed the envelope on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, waiting for the rest of them to follow. They filed in, Liam taking a spot next to Jerry and Ronan and Paul filling chairs opposite of them. Charla sat on the radiator next to the window, outside of their tight circle.
“So it looks like you all found each other,” Jerry started, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the armrest. “That didn’t take long. So, what do you want to know?”
“Everything,” Liam replied.
“I’m only going to give you one warning,” Jerry started, looking over each of them. “Once I tell you everything, there’s no going back. There’s no taking back what you know about who you are and where you came from. This isn’t something to take lightly. It took a long time and a lot of work to get where you are now. To have the lives that you had. If Jack was alive, he would have my head for even being in a room with you all. But Liam has a way of getting what he wants, just like Jack did, and circumstances have changed, as Liam knows.”
Liam nodded his head and looked at Ronan and Paul. “I want to put everything out there tonight so we know what we’re dealing with. After everything is out, you can decide how you want to be involved, but everything that is said in this room, stays in this room. You understand?”
They both nodded their heads. Then Liam and Jerry both glanced up at Charla. She pulled down her bottle of Guinness and nodded her head slowly. She was in too deep to even think twice about telling anyone what she was about to hear.
“Good because you aren’t going to like what you’re going to hear and some of it’s going to be hard to believe,” Jerry said. “But it’s the truth, and it’s the way Jack wanted it to be. Jack and I knew each other since we were kids. We grew up in Boston together until I moved out here to go to college on a football scholarship. He al
ways called me a lucky bastard for getting out of there when I did. He was right. He stayed back and ran errands for Jimmy Bourke while I ran with a pigskin.”
“Who’s Jimmy Bourke?” Ronan leaned forward.
Jerry stared at Ronan before turning his eyes to Paul. “He was one of the leaders of the Irish mafia in Boston.”
“The mafia?” Paul repeated in disbelief.
“Yeah, the mafia,” Jerry confirmed coolly. He dug into his jacket and threw another envelope on the coffee table. “We didn’t exactly grow up in the best neighborhood back then, and it was easy money running errands like that. Jack never wanted to move up in the ranks or anything. Never wanted to be one of the big shots, but he’d run for them at night. He was saving the money so he could go to school to get a better job. Nobody hired the neighborhood kids out of Southie for the good jobs. He was working at a laundromat when he met Helen.”
“Our mom,” Liam added.
“Your mom,” Jerry repeated. “She was one tough broad. We grew up with her, too. She lived down the other block. I was always thought those two would end up together. They fought like a married couple when they were ten.”
“So, what happened?” Ronan asked. “How’d we end up here?”
“I’m getting there.” Jerry nodded his head. “After five years of not hearing from him, Jack showed up on my doorstep in Illinois in the summer of ’90 with you in his arms.” He pointed at Paul and then nodded toward Ronan and Liam. “And you two at his side. I didn’t think twice when he told me he was in trouble. I could see it in his eyes. Jack could always tell a story without a saying a word.”
He pulled out a picture of Mickey McGrath from one of the envelopes. “And I’m only telling you this because Liam here wouldn’t let it go. And he’s probably right about it all. Jack saw Mickey murder Jimmy Bourke. Mickey didn’t like how things were being run. There was rift between them, I guess. So he murdered Jimmy and blamed it on the Italians. But Jack saw Mickey pull the trigger. Of course, Mickey went after him, but he got away. He was getting everyone in the car to get the hell out of town, when Helen went back into the apartment for something. And that’s when Mickey shot her.”
“Jesus.” Ronan leaned forward and took the picture of Mickey in his hands. “And this is him? This is the fuckin’ guy who murdered our mom?”
“Yeah,” Liam replied. “That’s him.”
“So, we did the only thing we could do. We started new lives for every single one of you. I’d spent some time with a buddy back in college making fake IDs so I called him up and for ten grand, Frank Connolly became Jack Davis. Everything about Frank was wiped cleaned and Jack Davis could start over. But he was still afraid that Mickey would find him, and you’d end up like Helen. He wasn’t going to let that happen so he did what he didn’t want to do just to protect you. He separated you and gave you all up. He moved to Mud Lake, and I only saw him a handful of times over the years. I went to the pastor of the church I belonged to at the time, and he helped place with you families from the congregation. Each of your families adopted you under one condition.”
The silence hung in the air as they all waited in anticipation for Jerry to finish.
“That you never knew where you came from.”
Ronan placed the picture of Mickey back on the coffee table and leaned back in his chair, letting out a barely audible noise. “And the tattoos?”
“That was Jack’s thing,” he said, shaking his head. “I would have never done it. Jesus, you were all babies, but he wanted you all to be connected somehow. A little Rum knocked you all right out so he could do it. He wanted you to know that you were never forgotten and that the bond between you all couldn’t be broken.”
“Holy shit.” Paul shook his head, putting his hand over his heart.
“Holy shit is right.” Liam picked up the picture of Mickey and flipped it toward Liam and Ronan. “He’s back in town, and he’s looking for something.”
“Jack was hiding 250 grand in his cottage, and I think Mickey and his guys are after it,” Charla said, folding her arms across her chest. All four men turned to her, staring at the woman in the back of the room who’d been silent for the past twenty minutes. “I didn’t know anything about the money until a man came looking for it today. He threatened to kill me if I told anyone about it.”
“Was it Mickey?” Jerry asked.
“No, he was younger,” Charla replied. “But it had to be one of his guys. He had a Boston accent.”
“Where’s the money now?” Paul asked. “Why don’t we just give it to him?”
“I have it,” Liam replied, nodding toward his bedroom. “It’s in the safe, exactly where I intend it to stay. I’m not giving that money back.”
“Jesus, if it’s about the 250 grand, I’ll give him the money,” Paul said, turning back to Liam. “As long as he stays away from us. The mafia is some serious shit.”
“Do we know for sure that he took the money from Mickey?” Ronan asked. “Maybe he’s looking for something else. That kind of money doesn’t mean much to someone like him.”
“The 250 grand probably doesn’t matter much to Mickey, but the retribution does,” Jerry said. “And he wants to know that the truth about Jimmy’s murder died with Jack. Even though it’s been thirty years, something like that doesn’t go unpunished, even if he is the leader. Jimmy’s family would be after him.”
“How’d he know Jack died?” Charla stood up from the radiator, her words slow and calculated as she moved next to Liam. She sat on the armrest, dangling her feet above the ground as she looked at Jerry. “The man that threatened me knew my name. How’d he know my name?”
They all turned to Jerry, who sat in silence for a couple of moments as he interlocked his fingers. He shook his head and then cleared his throat.
“I honestly don’t know,” he replied.
Ronan and Paul exchanged glances before Liam jumped in. “We don’t know how they got wind of Jack’s death, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s here, and he’s looking to make sure his past doesn’t come back to haunt him. It gives us the chance to hunt him down before he finds the rest of us. If the FBI doesn’t know he’s here yet, they’re going to find out pretty soon. He’s been on their most wanted list for a decade, and they haven’t gotten him yet. If we don’t get Mickey, the FBI won’t get him either. He’ll disappear and resurface again, looking for us. But next time, we won’t have the advantage that we have now. He doesn’t know the truth didn’t die with Jack.”
“Well, maybe it should have,” Paul said, leaning forward in his chair. “Hell, I can pretend I don’t know a damn thing.”
“Fuck that. It’s too late,” Ronan replied, rubbing his hands together. “We either hunt or be hunted, and you damn well know which one I’ll be doing.”
“I’ve got a room at the Copper Leaf right across the street from where Jerry said Mickey and his guys have been spotted.” Liam sifted through the pictures and pulled out a photo of The Blarney Stone. “We’re going to stake out the place tonight. According to Jerry, for the past two nights, he’s gone out at nine both nights into the alleyway by himself to make a phone call. He’s out there for maybe one or two minutes and then goes back in. It’s the only chance we have of getting him. Are you in?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m in,” Ronan said. They both glanced over at Paul who was rubbing his hands along his jeans.
“I don’t know.” Paul shook his head.
“You said you were looking for some excitement in your life,” Charla teased. “This isn’t enough for you?”
“Not this kind of excitement,” Paul quipped. “The mafia is some serious shit. And dangerous.”
“I don’t want you coming with us,” Liam quickly jumped in. “I think you should stay back with Charla and Jerry.”
He turned toward Jerry. “You okay staying with Charla? I don’t trust anyone else’s shot like I trust yours. I don’t want anyone even coming close to this girl.” He put his hand on Charla�
��s leg.
Jerry nodded his head toward Paul. “Yeah, I’ll stay back here and watch over these two.”
“You’re not watching over me,” Paul quickly defended. “I can take care of myself. I don’t even know why I have to stay here…”
“In case, they know more than we think they do,” Liam said. “I don’t want you out there by yourself. Stay together where it’s safe.”
“I think you need another guy to make sure you can take down Mickey,” Jerry said. “Maybe two. He’s not going down easy like the others around Clark County. His thugs will be outside that bar the second those two minutes are over.”
“I don’t trust anyone else.” Liam began sifting through the photos again.
“You just met Ronan,” Jerry argued. “You trust him but not my guys?”
“He’s my brother.”
Ronan placed his fist over his heart and cocked his head at Jerry. “You don’t trust me, Jer?”
Jerry exhaled. “A hundred grand is up for grabs with his arrest. I’d give you a three-way split if you get him.”
“Sounds like a good fuckin’ deal to me,” Ronan said.
Paul put his head into his hands and groaned. “What the hell did I get myself into?”
Ronan reached over and slapped him on the back. “Cheer up, baby bro. All you have to do is sit here and twiddle your thumbs all night. You can leave all the hard stuff to your big bros. We’ll take care of you.” He let out a low, visceral laugh.
“Exactly my point,” Paul said, taking his hands away from his face. “And does anyone want to tell me why we’re not going to the police with this? Because it seems like that would be the easiest and safest thing to do. What most sane people would do in a situation like this.”
“Because the police ain’t goin’ do shit,” Ronan replied. “They never do what they say they’re gonna do. I learned the hard way, baby bro.”
“Don’t call me baby bro,” Paul said. “I’m having a hard time with the whole idea that you’re actually my brother.”
“Same to you.” Ronan laughed.