This Life 1

by Cara Dee

  “I asked Finnegan how long we’d be driving around in these tanks, and he said there’s no expiration date on his worry.”

  “That sounds like Finn.” Grace’s eyes shone with as much amusement as fondness. “It’s better we just enjoy the pampering for a while.”

  I guess so.

  “Plus, there’s nothing like disappointing the good people of Philly every time we leave the car,” Sarah said. “I swear, I see someone eyeing me curiously then shrugging when they don’t recognize me.”

  “I know!” I’d thought it was just me! “You always expect someone famous to be inside a limo. And then it’s only us.”

  The partition behind me was lowered, and Colm spoke with his mouth full of food, causing his accent to come out thicker. “I’ll drop you at the next light. Conn will escort you inside, and I’ll be there after finding parking if that’s all right.”

  “That sounds great, dearie,” Grace said.

  We waited in comfortable silence until the car slowed down again, just in time for the light to turn yellow. Grace was scolded by Ian for opening the door herself.

  “You men, I swear.” She sighed and pretended to be a good girl. I stifled a grin, and she waited for Conn to round the car and open the door farther. “Oh, so it’s okay to come out now?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mirth seeped into Conn’s voice, and he helped her out of the car.

  Ian scooted closer to exit next.

  A weird popping sound went off, and I glanced outside. For such a low sound, it had a sharp echo that flew between the buildings. Then it sounded again—pop, pop, pop, pop, pop—and whatever it was, it catapulted the men into action. I grew rigid in my seat as Ian threw himself out of the car; Conn shouted for his brother, who was out of the driver’s seat already. Sarah’s nails dug into my arm. Someone screamed, the sound shrill and packed with agony.

  “Conn, no!” The booming voice belonged to Colm.

  “Oh my God,” Sarah breathed.

  The shock and confusion had me in a vise grip, but I managed to scramble closer to the door, and what I saw filled me with dread. They’d been fucking shots. Grace was on the ground with Ian on top of her, and before I knew it, there was another round of fire. This time, I heard it clearly.

  Mayhem broke out. Three men ran out of the restaurant we were parked outside of.

  Sarah screamed, and it shook me out of my state. Adrenaline and horror flooded me, and I tried to get out.

  “Grace!” Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck. I had to get to her, I had to get to her, but then Sarah was pulling me back.

  “You can’t go out there!” she yelled.

  “Get them out of here!” someone barked out.

  “Ian!”

  “Conn—”

  “Fuck.”

  I didn’t know where I got the strength from, but I managed to push myself out the door, away from Sarah, away from someone yelling at me. All I saw were Grace and Ian, and I crawled over to them. Frenzy set in at the sight of the pooling blood.

  “Call 911!” I shouted. Grabbing at Ian’s shoulder, I got him to roll off of Grace, and tears filled my eyes. He was alive. “You’re alive, you’re alive.” Without thinking, I pressed a hand to where blood was quickly staining his white shirt, the spot growing larger and larger. “We need help over here! Hey! Someone help!”

  A car skidded somewhere behind me, knocking something over—a trash can. I flinched at the crash but couldn’t tear my eyes away from Ian. He was coughing up blood and mumbling incoherently about “his unit” and the “fucking desert.”

  “Ian, stay with me. Okay? You’re here.” The fright in my own voice reached my ears and caused my hands to tremble. My vision became blurry, my throat closed up.

  “G-Grace,” he coughed.

  “She’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine,” I rambled. “Don’t speak. Help is on the way.”

  I didn’t know the first thing about first aid. All I could do was hope I didn’t make things worse. I tried to clear Ian’s airway, positioning him so his back was straight, and I applied pressure to his wound.

  A couple blocks away, sirens started blaring.

  “Ian!” Shan! I heard him. I heard him. He was here.

  Flicking a panicked glance at Grace, I felt myself moving. Because she wasn’t. No, no, no, no, no. Bile rose within, and I pushed it down. There was so much blood—too much of it.

  “Grace,” I choked. Someone tried to pull me away, and I screamed. “Get the fuck away from me!” No, this couldn’t be happening. “Grace, wake up! Wake up!” I cradled her head in my lap and frantically wiped away the blood from her chest and stomach. “No, no, no, no! Someone help me, goddammit!”

  “No, no, no—fuck—no.” It was Shan. He took over from me, and I fell back on the sidewalk. “No—oh God, sweetheart, no.”

  “They’re not dead!” I heard myself yell.

  So why the fuck did Shan look anguished? Fury and grief had struck him across the face, and he tried to hold both Grace and Ian to him. He checked for their pulses, heartbeats, and their injuries.

  “Emilia!”

  The next thing I knew, I was airborne and thrown into another car. Pain spread along my spine, and I cried out. Then again—fuck, shit, fuck!—my ankle throbbed.

  “Emilia, talk to me. Fuck, baby, where are you hurt?” Oh God, it was Finnegan. He scrambled off of me and immediately held me to his chest. We were a pile on the floor, and he wouldn’t stop touching my face. “There’s blood everywhere—tell me—”

  “It’s not mine,” I managed to get out in a strangled voice. “It’s not mine. Your mom—” My voice broke, and I let out a sob.

  The sirens took over, the lights flooded the street, the chaos became too much, people wouldn’t stop shouting, and no one would fucking let me get to Grace and Ian.

  “Look at me, Emilia.” Finnegan gripped my chin, his eyes searching my face. He had tears rolling down his cheeks, and it completely shattered me. “Are—fuck. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  “I’m sure. It’s not my blood. But Grace…oh God—” I started weeping like a goddamn baby.

  “I know.” He held me tightly, and every time his body rocked with his silent cries, I thought I was going to die. Never in my life had I experienced this kind of pain. “We gotta get to the hospital,” he said hoarsely. “Colm! You good to drive?”

  Her eyes had been open. Flashes of the sights I’d just seen were drilled into my skull, one by one, lasting only a second. It paralyzed me, and everything else ceased to exist. My hands were sticky and covered in blood, and they wouldn’t stop shaking. Grace’s eyes had been open. Her eyes—I’d seen them yet refused to acknowledge them. I’d only paid attention to stopping the bleeding.

  Now I couldn’t stop picturing her eyes. Those green-blue eyes that’d danced with happiness a few moments ago.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” I choked out. A second later, I leaned away from Finnegan and emptied my stomach.

  Grace and Ian were both pronounced dead at the hospital.

  The paramedics had detected a weak pulse in Ian at the scene, and they had worked on him on the way, but he didn’t make it. He’d been shot twice in the back, both bullets going straight through. Grace had died quickly, according to the doctors. With three bullets in her back and chest.

  White-hot hatred simmered below the surface as I was forced to go through a medical examination. Other than some cuts and scrapes on my legs and a mildly twisted ankle, I was fine. Physically. My heart felt like it’d taken a bullet or two.

  I looked as bad as I felt, though the blood was easily cleaned off.

  Finnegan refused to leave my side, even though I knew he wanted to be with his mother.

  “You sure she’s okay.” He asked for clarification for the tenth time.

  The doctor nodded. “She might be in shock, but she’ll be fine, Mr. O’Shea. Keep an eye on her, that’s all. It’s very possible she will need some counseling. I would recommend it, regardless. What sh
e witnessed is never easy.”

  “I’m fucking fine,” I whispered. “Can we go now?”

  It took Finnegan another couple of minutes’ worth of reassuring from the doctor, and we were finally out of there. I walked carefully on my weak foot, Finnegan’s tight grip on my hand speaking volumes of what was going through his head.

  We took the elevator upstairs to where we were told Grace and Ian were, and I shut Finnegan out on the way there so I could be less selfish once inside. Because as much as I wanted to fall into tears at Grace’s bedside, my husband came first. It was his mom, not mine.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I hugged Finnegan’s bicep and took charge when he couldn’t.

  Conn and Colm sat outside, solemn.

  I opened the door and forcefully pushed down my grief. Shan was sitting next to Grace; I couldn’t see his face. He was holding one of her hands and pressing his forehead to the top of it.

  Patrick and Sarah were standing in the corner, holding each other. Kellan was beside Ian’s bed, silently seething.

  Grace and Ian could’ve been asleep. I suspected they hadn’t been cleaned up yet, hence the blankets covering everything except their heads. Her eyes had been open…now they weren’t.

  “Come, honey,” I whispered. I ushered Finnegan inside the room. His eyes brimmed with tears, and he wouldn’t look away from his mother. Eventually, I got him to move forward a bit more, and I guess the levees broke. He sniffled, released my hand, and closed the distance to lean over her and press his lips to her forehead.

  I covered my mouth with my hand and tried—and failed—not to cry.

  More memories flashed back. I flinched, remembering the shrill scream I’d heard.

  I didn’t want the guys to know about it, so I ducked out of the room and wiped at my cheeks.

  Colm looked up from where he was sitting.

  “She screamed,” I croaked. I coughed slightly to clear my voice. “Grace. She screamed.”

  “It was quick, darlin’,” he murmured.

  I shook my head. That wasn’t what I was getting at. “We’re not gonna tell Shan and the boys about it, okay? I don’t want them to know she suffered even for a second.”

  He understood and nodded once. “I won’t say a word.”

  “Me either.” Conn scrubbed his hands over his face and blew out a breath. “Can this day get any worse? First Grace and Ian, then I lost sight of the motherless sons’a—”

  “Hey.” Colm nudged his brother’s shoulder. “They drove. You were on foot. Don’t beat yourself up.”

  “You tried to run after them?” I asked, a trickle of alarm quickening my heartbeat.

  “Doesn’t matter. I lost them,” Conn muttered.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about losing another person.

  “This is gonna blow up.” Colm took out a pack of smokes and seemed to catch himself, remembering he couldn’t smoke here. “Grace was like the heart of the syndicate. Everyone adored her. And now John…? Shite.”

  I frowned. “What about John?”

  “He was kidnapped,” he replied flatly. My eyes widened, and more shock tore through me. “You didn’t know. Goddammit.” He groaned and ran a hand over his head. “We were called into work early. Someone got word from Chicago, and we couldn’t get in touch with John or his men. Pat filled us in when we got here that he’d been taken.”

  Holy shit. This was why Finnegan had left for the office this morning. When he texted me, joking about scratches and kittens, had they been trying to figure out what was going on?

  “Really, he’s been kidnapped?” I couldn’t shake the disbelief.

  Conn nodded. “Anne and the twins are fine, but they snagged John outside their home earlier this morning.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I whispered. “Who do I talk to about getting the twins here?”

  Despite the damage I wanted to do to John’s face, he loved his kids, and he’d been lovely to me at the wedding. And at the dinner last week. It definitely didn’t make him a good man, but perhaps he was a good father. Alec and Nessa must be beside themselves. Because, Anne…? Fuck that frigid woman.

  “Uh…” Conn exchanged a look with his brother. “Um, probably yourself?”

  “Aye, I don’t see anyone else making that decision right now,” Colm agreed.

  Okay, that was weird, but I shook it off. “Well, then. Can you arrange for them to come back here?” Poor kids had been lugged back and forth way too much. “Put their safety first. I don’t want them alone. Think like Finnegan. Like, put guards on them or whatever.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll go make some calls.” Conn seemed to be the one who needed to do something the most, and he excused himself.

  “Emilia?” The barest hint of panic in Finnegan’s voice made it easy to ignore the pain in my ankle, and I hurried back into the room.

  He exhaled in relief and hugged me to him. “Don’t leave my sight. Okay?”

  “I’m sorry.” I hugged him back as tightly as I could and closed my eyes. I couldn’t look at Grace. It hurt too much. “I’m here.”

  He held me impossibly tighter and breathed me in, his nose buried in my hair. “I could’ve lost you today.”

  “You didn’t.” I looked up at him and wiped my thumbs under his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  He nodded and pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you.”

  Warmth tingled inside me every time I heard those words. Today, I needed them more than ever. “I love you too.”

  We were gonna get through this. I had to believe that, even though I could sense my imminent breakdown creeping closer. It would have to wait until I got Finnegan home—or wherever he deemed it safe to get some rest.

  Anger was brewing too. For the second time in my life, I’d been robbed of a mother figure. Grace had taken up residence in my heart fast, and now she was gone. I would never hear her laugh again. She’d have no more advice to share. I’d never get the chance to prove myself worthy of being her daughter-in-law.

  I blinked back tears and sucked in a painful breath.

  Patrick cleared his throat. “The cops won’t wait much longer, Pop.”

  Shit. I should’ve known. Of course, they would have questions.

  “Nothing will happen, right?” I asked nervously. “I mean, we haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Don’t worry.” Finnegan kissed me on the forehead. “They won’t find anything.”

  “All right.” I grew wary of the whole thing. I didn’t want the police here, but I suspected there was little that could be done about it.

  Finnegan glanced over at Grace and released a trembling breath.

  Shan was about to fall apart, and I wanted to comfort him. Slowly easing out of Finnegan’s hold, I let him know I wasn’t leaving. Then I rounded the bed and carefully touched Shan’s shoulder.

  He wiped his eyes discreetly before facing me, albeit briefly.

  “Ian tried to protect her.” I went down on one knee and put a hand on his leg instead of trying to make eye contact. Maybe because it would be unwanted, maybe because I couldn’t bear the heartbreak in his gaze. “He used himself as a shield, and I’m-I’m,” I stammered, “I’m only saying this because I want you to know she was never alone. He didn’t think twice. He just ran out for her.”

  Shan’s hand landed on top of mine, and he gave it a squeeze. “Of course he did,” he murmured thickly. “Thank you, sweetheart. I only pray they weren’t in pain.”

  I swallowed hard and stared at his hand over mine. There was still some dried blood on his skin. “She didn’t suffer,” I whispered. “It was over in a second, and I didn’t know. I mean, I didn’t know she wasn’t okay, so I guess I lied to Ian. He—he asked about her, and I blurted out she was fine.”

  I only dared to lift my gaze enough to see a small quirk of his lips before he scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “A good lie.” He patted my hand. “I’m sure that meant
everything to him.”

  I nodded once in acknowledgment and was about to give him some privacy, but he stopped me.

  “It won’t be today, and it won’t be tomorrow,” he said quietly, “but someday soon, I’m going to give you the guilt trip of the ages for putting yourself in harm’s way. But for now, thank you, sweetheart. I’m eternally grateful you were brave enough to be there for them.”

  A mixture of emotions raged inside me—gratitude, love, embarrassment, and perhaps a pinch of oh-shit-I-messed-up. Most of all, though, I was determined to be there for them through this.

  Chapter 33

  Finnegan O’Shea

  “Finn?”

  I jolted awake, panting, my heart squeezing. I blinked and tried fruitlessly to shake the remnants of the nightmare. The same one I’d had the past two nights, where I saw Emilia’s lifeless body in the street instead of my mother.

  “Fuck.” I swallowed dryly and pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes.

  “Finn.”

  “Yeah.” I wasn’t the best host at the moment, and we had Nessa and Alec staying in our condo. “What is it, doll?” I looked my cousin over, worried she was having nightmares too.

  She shuffled by the stairs and glanced toward the bathroom. “I think Emilia’s upset.”

  Motherfucker. It was a good thing I hadn’t noticed she wasn’t next to me yet, ’cause I flew into a panic every time it happened. Getting out of bed, I tied the strings on my sweats and peered down over the railing. Alec was still sound asleep on the couch. The clock on my nightstand said it wasn’t even five in the morning, too early to be up and get ready for the first funeral.

  “Thanks for letting me know, hon.” I passed Nessa with a kiss to the top of her head and aimed for the bathroom. I knocked on the door twice and listened to the shower running. She was upset, all right. And it was about time. “Princess, let me in.”

  I’d been waiting for this. We all had. Rather than moving around like a zombie these past two days—the way the rest of us had—Emilia had made it her goal to be there for everybody who needed something. She’d gone above and beyond. With Aunt Viv and Father O’Malley, she had made funeral arrangements for both Ma and Ian. She’d talked to the cops as well as the Feds. She’d made sure Pop and I ate. She’d taken care of Alec and Nessa.