by Marin Thomas
“Tell me it isn’t true, Ryan.” Anna’s big blue eyes implored him.
Damn it. What the hell good did being filthy rich and possessing a powerful family name do if he couldn’t save a garbage business from the hands of a sleaze like Little Nicky? He plowed his fingers through his hair. “Parnell put up the business as collateral for a loan from the mafia.”
A moan escaped her mouth, the sound reminiscent of a wounded animal. “Start from the beginning,” she whispered.
“After we found Parnell in Atlantic City and you left the hotel room to buy him a change of clothes, he confessed he’d borrowed against the business from the mob.”
Trembling fingers covered her mouth and Ryan paused. When she motioned for him to continue, he added, “It wasn’t the first time. I visited Little Nicky and discovered that my grandfather had paid off a previous debt Parnell owed in exchange for hiring me.”
“Maybe your grandfather could pay—”
“I offered to clear Parnell’s debt. McKade Import-Export could have absorbed the loss, but Little Nicky wouldn’t budge.”
Sniffle. “What will the mob do with the business?”
“Nothing. They’ll use it as a front for illegal activity.”
Anna rose from the chair, eyes pleading. “Don’t let them take the business.” Her fingernails bit into his skin, leaving half-moon marks on his forearm.
He wished he could be Anna’s knight in shining armor and rescue the company from the clutches of the evil underworld. How could he save a woman from a burning building during a terrorist attack but not be able to save a garbage company from the mob? What the hell kind of sense did that make?
“Leon’s got too many family members depending on him. He can’t afford to lose his job. This morning Antonio’s wife, Lisa, phoned to tell me she’s pregnant.” Anna’s lower lip wobbled. “She hasn’t told Antonio yet.”
Typical Anna—worry about others and not herself. Ryan yanked her into his arms and tucked her face against his neck. He hugged her, hoping his strength would calm the tremors racking her body. “They’re good men, sweetheart. They’ll find new jobs.”
After several muffled sniffles, she wiggled free. Arms wrapped around her middle, she whimpered, “They’re my family. I don’t want to lose them.” Tears leaked from her eyes.
What about me? I want to be your family. Now wasn’t the time to declare his feelings. “Anna, I wish I knew what to do.”
“Can’t you fix this?”
Her question knocked the breath from his lungs.
“Fix what?” Leon barged into the room—Joe, Eryk, Patrick and Antonio on his heels. The men ran their gazes over Anna’s tear-stained face, then shifted their scowls to Ryan.
“Who’s the creep that just left?” Patrick nodded to the window. Little Nicky’s ape was getting into a car across the street.
“The guy works for a local mobster.” Never in Ryan’s life had he felt so inept.
“What business do you have with a mob boss, Jones?” Eryk glared.
“Not me. Parnell. Little Nicky’s been funding his gambling habit.”
Leon grasped Anna’s arm. “Is he telling the truth?”
How could the older man question Ryan’s integrity after they’d worked together for the past few months? Ticked, Ryan held his tongue.
“Yes,” Anna answered.
“How much is Parnell in for?” Eryk made eye contact with each man in the room. “We can go two weeks—maybe three—without a paycheck.”
That the men were willing to work without pay and make sacrifices that would affect their families humbled Ryan. It wasn’t simply Anna who considered her fellow employees family—the men possessed the same feelings about one another and their boss. Ryan admired their loyalty and commitment. “Parnell owes over three hundred thousand.” The men’s stunned expressions would have been comical had the situation not been so dire.
Leon dropped into the chair Anna had vacated and buried his face in his hands. Antonio moved away from the group. Joe’s complexion paled. Eryk and Patrick gazed unseeingly out the office window.
The desperation in the room was palpable.
“How long before the mob moves in?” Leon asked.
“Monday, November 5. We have to be out by noon,” Ryan informed the group.
“Use next week to look for new jobs.” Anna grimaced. “No sense showing up here when there’s no money to make payroll.”
“Why weren’t we told about the problem with the mob?” Imitating a schoolyard bully, Antonio fisted his hands, ready to defend his territory.
Because I thought I could fix this. Thought I could save the business without anyone the wiser. Guilt gnawed a hole through Ryan’s gut. He’d misjudged his ability, been overconfident, and he’d failed. Before he had the opportunity to answer Antonio’s question, Joe stepped forward. “Any chance you can help?”
“You donated two thousand dollars toward Willie’s funeral expenses. We never asked where you got that kind of money, but—” Antonio glanced around the group “—we’ve always suspected you weren’t really who you said you were.”
“Yeah, Jones. You’re the furthest thing from blue collar I’ve ever seen,” Eryk added.
“Could you loan us the money to pay off the mob?” Patrick made eye contact with his coworkers. “We’d pay you back with interest.”
“I offered to pay off the debt, but Little Nicky refused my money,” Ryan explained.
After a lengthy silence, Joe asked, “Mind telling us who the hell you are, Jones?”
“My real name is Ryan McKade, not Ryan Jones. My family owns McKade Import-Export.”
“Import-export, huh?” Eryk snarled. “What if you’re in cahoots with Little Nicky to take over the business?”
“Ryan wasn’t aware that Bobby had a gambling problem until I told him,” Anna said, jumping to his defense. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I should have addressed the issue when I noticed the missing funds.”
Refusing to allow her to believe Parnell’s gambling habits had been her fault, Ryan grasped her hands. “Bobby has an addiction. Nothing you could have said would have deterred him.” Life wasn’t fair. Wasn’t kind. “Hell, Anna. Shit happens and sometimes we can’t do a damn thing about it.”
“I could have confronted him,” she argued.
The men encircled Anna. “This isn’t your fault. You’ve taken good care of us over the years,” Patrick argued. He motioned around the room. “Is the mob keeping everything?”
“’Fraid so,” Ryan muttered. “Better clear your lockers or Little Nicky’s enforcers will claim anything left behind.”
RYAN PAUSED in the hallway outside the locker room and listened to the muted sounds of cussing. Anna had decided to rummage through Parnell’s files and retrieve financial statements and other documents that would be needed at tax time. She’d declined his offer to help, and he schlepped off feeling as if he’d struck out and lost the game for his team.
“Can I speak with you guys a minute?” Ryan stepped into the locker room.
No one paid him any attention. Eryk was in the process of removing a stack of yellowed newspapers from the top shelf of his locker. The other men were in various stages of organizing their personal belongings. A dirty sock sailed past Ryan’s face, landing in the trash can by the door.
“I need a favor,” he persisted.
Leon paused from examining a dent in his lunch box. “What kind of favor?”
“I want all of you to promise you’ll keep in touch with Anna. You’re her family now.”
“What are you talking about?” Antonio spoke up. “None of us is related to Anna.”
Was Antonio that obtuse, or did he really not get it? “Has Anna told you guys about her past?”
A hush fell over the room. The men glanced sideways at one another, then Joe scratched his head. “I don’t remember Anna ever saying anything personal about herself. Do you guys?”
A chorus of grunts answered.
Ryan shouldn’t divulge Anna’s past, but if he couldn’t save the business, maybe he could save her relationship with her coworkers. “Anna grew up in the foster-care system. When she was four years old, her mother died. She never met her father.” He omitted the gory details. If the men cared to learn more, they could question Anna.
“How come Anna never said anything to us?” Leon posed the question to the group as if Anna’s background was one of the great mysteries of the world.
“She was always fussing over us and our families.” Patrick shook his head sadly. “Never thought to ask her about her folks.”
“Yeah,” Eryk mumbled. “And she was so cheerful and happy all the time I figured her life was fine.”
The genuine misery etched on the men’s faces assured Ryan they’d make an effort to involve Anna in their lives. “Please don’t lose touch with her.”
“Anna loves birthdays, so we’ll invite her to our kids’ parties,” Antonio declared. The others chimed in with assurances that they’d include her in their family gatherings. Ryan was confident the men wouldn’t neglect her.
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Leon blurted after the room quieted.
The urge to deny the charge never materialized. “I am.” Ryan had recognized his feelings for Anna had become serious when he’d experienced a jealous zap several weeks ago after witnessing her straighten Blair’s tie on the apartment stoop. He never thought those feelings would develop into love. But Anna was an amazing woman.
“So you’ll be her family, too.” Antonio lifted a dark eyebrow, as if Ryan was a dope.
“I’ll be resuming my job in Manhattan.”
“If you love her, you can’t let her go,” Joe protested.
“It’s not me who’s letting go. Anna doesn’t love me.” He had no intention of discussing his failed love life with the guys. “If she should ever need anything—” Ryan dug out his wallet, removed a business card and handed it to Leon “—call me and I’ll do what I can.”
“She cares about you,” Joe insisted. “Maybe you should stick around awhile longer and see if anything changes between you two.”
Ryan had yet to respond to Joe’s suggestion when Eryk held up one of the yellowed newspapers from his locker. “I thought you looked familiar when you first showed up here.” He passed the front page of the Times to Leon.
The others crowded around and gawked over Leon’s shoulder. “Is that you?” Eryk stabbed his finger at the picture of Ryan carrying a woman out of the second tower during the 9/11 attack.
The picture itself was photojournalism perfection. Ryan’s suit coat was on fire, the flames shooting into the air in the shape of angel wings. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember feeling any pain as he’d cradled the woman against his chest and stumbled from the building. “Yeah, that’s me.”
Collapsing onto the stool next to his locker, Eryk buried his face in his hands. He muttered a litany of swearwords, then glanced up, face wet with tears.
The man’s emotional reaction caught Ryan off guard and he mumbled, “It was no big deal. She was just a woman who couldn’t get out on her own.”
“Just a woman?” Eryk’s voice hitched.
The walls closed in around Ryan. The guys gaped at him as if he were an apparition. Eryk snatched the paper from Leon’s grasp and rattled it. “That wasn’t just a woman, Jones, McKade, whoever the hell you are.” He sucked in a deep breath and bellowed, “You saved my sister-in-law!”
Oh God. The woman Ryan had rescued had been the sister-in-law whose kids Eryk and his wife babysat for one weekend a month so that the woman and her husband could spend time alone. Ryan’s mind drifted to an exchange with his grandfather.
“Why a rubbish company, Grandpa? Anything but garbage.”
“You have to face the past, Ryan.”
Everything made sense now. His grandfather’s insistence that Ryan work for Parnell Brothers. He must have met Valerie and her family at the hospital when Ryan had refused to see her. His grandfather’s cunning astounded him.
“Why wouldn’t you talk to Valerie?” Eryk raged. “Because of you, her children aren’t motherless and her husband isn’t a widower. She wanted to thank you for saving her life, but you refused to see her.”
Shame filled Ryan. The pain from his injuries had been so intense that the first few weeks in the hospital he’d regretted going into the second tower when he’d heard Valerie’s cries for help. Later, after he’d learned of Sandra’s miscarriage, he’d hated himself, the whole world, even Valerie. And why shouldn’t he have? Valerie’s life had returned to normal and his had crumbled.
After becoming better acquainted with Eryk and learning how deeply he cared for his family, Ryan could no longer regret saving the man’s sister-in-law. “I was in a lot of pain and I—”
“How bad were you injured?” Eryk cut him off. “The doctors refused to say.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Ryan joked.
No one laughed.
Time to leave. He moved toward the door, but Eryk blocked his way. “That’s it? No explanation?”
“What do you want me to say?” Ryan shouted, startling the men.
Anger at his grandfather for meddling in his and other people’s lives raged through Ryan. “I saved your sister-in-law, and because I did, I lost my wife and my unborn child. How’s that for something to say?”
He stormed from the room, hating that his grandfather had been right—he was a damn coward.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hello?”
“Grandpa, it’s me, Ryan. You play dirty, don’t you?” The combination of anger and acid building in his stomach made Ryan want to puke.
“I assume this call isn’t about coming up on the short end of the stick with Little Nicky.”
“How did you find out I failed to save Parnell Brothers from the mob?”
“The Polish girl phoned me.”
“Anna?”
Ryan had hit rock bottom yesterday when he’d left Parnell Brothers after his parting shot in the locker room. He’d hoped—no, expected—Anna to knock on his apartment door to check on him. She hadn’t. Hadn’t phoned, either. Leaving Ryan confused. Lonely. And scared. Scared of losing Anna. Of losing a second chance at living.
“Anna thought your family should be told that the woman you’d rescued during 9/11 turned out to be one of your coworker’s relatives. She said you were quite upset.”
Ryan remembered the cruel words he’d spoken—blaming Eryk’s sister-in-law for the failure of his marriage and the loss of his unborn child. “Did you tell her that you’d orchestrated the whole thing?”
“Son, I believed the way to help you move forward with your life was to force you to confront the past head-on.”
“That’s why you sent me to Parnell Brothers.”
“Yes. You needed to discover that a fair amount of good had been salvaged from that fateful day. Not all was lost.”
“It’s hard, Grandpa.” Ryan closed his eyes. He was tired. So damn tired of fighting. Struggling. Surviving.
“You’ve blamed your ex-wife. You’ve blamed the woman you rescued. You’ve even blamed the terrorists. Easier than blaming yourself, isn’t it?”
As if he’d been punched in the throat, Ryan felt his vision go gray and his head spin. “What do you mean?” he wheezed.
“I understand what you’re going through. Those first ten years I blamed myself for the deaths of your parents and grandmother.”
“The plane crash wasn’t your fault, Grandpa.”
“No, but I arranged the vacation. I noticed your father’s long hours were putting a strain on his marriage. And your grandmother worried about me working myself to death and dying of a heart attack before the age of sixty. I assumed a weekend ski trip would appease everyone. But before your father and I left the office, a problem developed with one of our clients. I insisted on staying behind and promised to catch a flight in the morning. By then they were all dead.”
&n
bsp; Ryan’s throat tightened. As far as he remembered, his grandfather had never spoken in length about the tragic plane crash.
“You never forget. And the pain never goes away.”
“But you were attempting to do the right thing,” Ryan argued.
“I’m ninety-one years old and I still haven’t figured out God’s rules for the game of life. If you find the answer to why innocent, good people die before nasty evildoers, clue me in.”
Ryan thought of his unborn child. He’d instigated the argument with Sandra. He’d been the one to offend her. To say terrible things. He’d meant to hurt her. He hadn’t meant to hurt the baby. In the end he’d ended up hurting himself the most. “What if I can’t let go?”
“You don’t have to let go. You just have to move on. In the beginning you do it because others are depending on you. Later, after navigating years of pain, you understand and accept that life is a gift and not to be wasted.”
Rubbing a hand beneath his runny nose, Ryan sniffed. “Some hero I am, crying like a baby.”
“You are a hero, Ryan. But not the way you assume.”
“What do you mean?”
“My boy, you’re a hero because it takes more courage to live your life now than it did before 9/11. Before losing your marriage. Before losing your child. A hero is courageous and strong. And human. You feel pain, fear and hurt from your heroic actions.” His grandfather cleared his throat.
“You possess a deep well of courage, my boy. Look inside yourself and use your stubbornness, persistence and firmness of will to lend you the guts not just to live but to thrive. To experience life to the fullest. To triumph over adversity.”
“What should I do about Parnell Brothers? It’s too late to save—”
“Forget the garbage company,” his grandfather interrupted. “The real issue is whether you’re brave enough to save yourself.”
Stunned, Ryan gaped at the receiver. A few seconds passed, then his grandfather whispered, “No matter what, I love you.” The dial tone buzzed in Ryan’s ear. He pressed the off button, then placed the phone on the nightstand.