Boston Underworld: The Collection

by A. Zavarelli

  It’s one thing to screw with my own life, but I didn’t want Scarlett in this. I can’t protect her.

  “How did you…”

  “Her number was in your phone,” Lach explains without remorse.

  Bastard.

  “C’mon over to my spot.” Scarlett gestures to the table. “I’ve ordered for us already.”

  “Have ye?” Lachlan asks.

  “There’s only one thing you eat when you come here,” Scarlett and I say in unison.

  Lach nods and puts his hand on my lower back as we walk to the table. We sit down, and I slam the shot of Patron Scarlett ordered for me in one gulp. I’m staring daggers at her, but it doesn’t bother her in the least.

  “So, Lachlan,” she feigns ignorance. “You’re the reason Mack hasn’t been coming around lately.”

  Oh sheesh. She’s really making a big production out of this. I gesture to the waitress for another round.

  “Seems that way,” he says. “I thought it was time we met. Though I must say ye look a little young to be her grandmother.”

  Scarlett laughs.

  Then she leans forward on her elbows, and something passes over her face. Something I haven’t seen in all the years I’ve known her except maybe once. And that was when she helped me fight off the men in the alley that fateful night.

  “She’s a good girl,” Scarlett tells him. “If any harm ever comes to her, you’ll have to contend with me.”

  “Scarlett…” I protest.

  She holds her hand up and ignores me. “Now I may not look like much. But Mack doesn’t either. And yet, we both know that isn’t true. Sometimes, people can surprise you.”

  Her voice is full of threat, and it would be absolutely frigging adorable if this were any other normal guy I was dating. But I can see the wheels spinning in Lachlan’s head. He knows as well as I do she’s no threat to him. Still, I don’t know what to expect.

  So when he gives her a nod and doesn’t even crack a smile or hold an ounce of arrogance in his features, I squeeze his hand under the table in thanks.

  “I can respect that,” Lach says.

  And then he turns to me and brushes my hair back over my shoulders, staring at me with an expression of pride and dare I say… happiness.

  “I’ve no intentions of hurting, Mack,” he says softly. “If anything, I’m sure it will be the other way around.”

  34

  MACKENZIE

  THE WHOLE WAY to the club, I’m a nervous wreck. I can’t stop thinking about Scarlett. If things go south now, what’s going to happen to her?

  It makes me sick with worry. But there’s something else there too. There’s guilt roiling around, eating me up inside. Lach’s words keep echoing through my head. He knows I’m going to hurt him. Maybe he can see more than I gave him credit for. Maybe he knows it’s only a matter of time until I screw him over.

  He reaches over and pulls my mangled lip from between my teeth and then puts his hand on my knee possessively, sliding it up my thigh.

  “Tell me what’s bothering you,” he says. “Why didn’t ye want me to meet her?”

  “Because,” I scoff. “I don’t want her involved in this world.”

  His grip tightens on my leg. “Do ye always think the worst of me?”

  I cringe. It can’t be denied. In my head, I’ve accused him of trafficking women. Being involved in Tal’s disappearance somehow. And not coming for me if Cara hadn’t been there with me. But when I look at him now, calm and relaxed and possessive, I know those things aren’t true.

  So why am I still doing this?

  I could give it all up. Find another way. Open up to Lach and hope that I’m right about him. But there are too many variables in those options. Things that could go wrong or set me back completely. And right now, the file that Scarlett slipped into my handbag tonight is burning a hole on the floorboards. I have to see what’s inside of it. I have to believe that I’m doing the right thing. I need some sort of vindication to continue down this path.

  Lachlan pulls up to the club and turns off the car. And then he swivels in his seat and reaches over to give me a tender kiss. God, I am so fucked.

  “Ye needn’t worry yourself over Scarlett,” he says. “No harm will come her way.”

  I don’t answer, so he reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze.

  “Do ye believe me?”

  “I do,” I whisper. “But just swear it, please. Give me your word. You guys are big on that, right? Giving your word?”

  Lachlan doesn’t look content that I’m still doubting him, but he nods anyway. “Ye have my word, sweetheart.”

  “No matter what happens,” I insist. “You won’t hurt her. She has nothing to do with me or my life or the choices I make.”

  “Is that the kind of man ye think I am?” he asks.

  His disappointment with me penetrates right through my protective shield.

  “I don’t want to,” I half laugh and half cry.

  Oh, Jesus. Those are real tears. I really am crying. What the hell?

  Lachlan looks just as confused as I am.

  “I know you’re a good person, Lach. I see that when I’m with you every day. I feel safe when you’re near, and I’ve never felt that with anyone. But then I think about what you do and who you work for. Some things I’m okay with. Like last night… what you had to do, I wanted you to do it. It’s confusing the way that I feel. I don’t really understand it myself. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, and I want to tell you…”

  His phone rings, and he hits ignore, keeping his attention focused on me.

  “Tell me what, sweetheart?”

  “I want to tell you…”

  His phone rings again.

  “Goddammit,” he curses. “Just one second, love.”

  He answers and makes short clipped responses that grow louder and more frustrated by the time the call ends two minutes later.

  “Christ,” he mutters. “I want you to tell me, sweetheart. Whatever it is.”

  I want to tell him too. But right now, he’s stressed about something else, and it isn’t the time.

  “Tonight,” I say. “We’ll talk about it tonight. I know you have to go.”

  He sweeps his palm over my cheek and down my throat and kisses me again before pulling away. A moment later, Ronan appears outside the car door.

  “He’ll take ye inside,” Lach says. “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  “Okay.” I give his hand a squeeze. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

  He smiles. “Always, sweetheart.”

  The moment Ronan and I are inside, I excuse myself to the restroom.

  After checking that all of the other stalls are empty, I scurry inside and tear the file out of my handbag. I open it up and find a shit load of pictures and notes.

  There are photos of Donovan going to and from the club, his house which turns out to be a sad looking little duplex, and a few of his usual haunts. It doesn’t surprise me that he likes to hang out at a seedy dive bar, or a Russian owned brothel. But what does surprise me is seeing him walking in and out of it with Mandy.

  What the hell would she be doing at a brothel with him and do I even want to know?

  I scour through the rest of the photos, finding the answer to that shortly. It turns out the brothel isn’t the only place they like to hang out. There are photos of them in back alleys, with Donovan’s pants around his ankles and her head bobbing between his legs.

  Gross.

  I start to skip over them, thinking them all to be the same, but then something catches my eye. In one of the photos, Donovan walks into the brothel with Mandy, but it’s one of the Russians who leaves with her. Double gross.

  Is she ping ponging between them? And if so why did my guy think it was important for me to know this. I scan the corresponding notes and get his only explanation.

  I had a hunch. I followed it.

  Sure enough, the next set of photos are of Mandy and the Russian
. It seems she’s been meeting with both men all over town. Sometimes two or three times a day.

  It’s obvious what they’re doing by the photographs, but something about this still doesn’t feel right. Even putting aside the fact that I don’t like Mandy, I can’t understand why any woman would consider firsts with those two, let alone seconds. Willingly from what it appears. Unless they are blackmailing her somehow.

  Could that be it?

  Despite my feelings about her, Mandy is pretty. The type of woman most guys would find desirable. I highly doubt she has any trouble getting male attention. Well, except from Lachlan, maybe. But Donny and this Russian dude are far from the hottest guys on the planet, and Mandy seems like the shallow type. I can’t figure out what she would see in these two.

  I look through the photos again and frown. There has to be something I’m missing here. Which means I’m going to have to do something I really don’t want to do. I need to talk to Mandy.

  35

  MACKENZIE

  I FIND Mandy in the dressing room getting ready for her dance set. She’s lining her eyes with liquid liner when I sit down beside her and clear my throat.

  “What do you want?” she wrinkles her nose.

  I muster up a small smile for her. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to me, but still. If she’s in trouble, I could help her. And I would. Regardless of my feelings towards her.

  “Look, Mandy, I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”

  She screws the cap back onto her eyeliner and then turns her attention towards me. Her eyes are full of suspicion, but I forge on anyway.

  “I just wanted to wipe the slate clean,” I tell her. “I thought maybe we could get to know each other a little.”

  She laughs, and it comes out a little crazy. And then she crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, sizing me up.

  “Do you think I’m stupid?” she asks. “Do you actually think that sweet little act is going to work on me?”

  Okay, so apparently nice isn’t the route to go here. I shrug and try a different tack. It’s not like I could make Donovan hate me any more than he already does anyway.

  “Look, I just know that Donny has been bothering some of the other girls, and I thought maybe he was bothering you too.”

  “And what are you gonna’ do about it if he is?” she snarls. “Beat him up for me?”

  I don’t answer because the hatred in her voice catches me off guard. I knew she didn’t like me, but this is something else altogether. The way she’s looking at me right now, it’s like she actually wishes I was dead. I just can’t wrap my head around it. I’ve done nothing to this girl. I know she wanted Lachlan, but this isn’t jealousy. It’s something personal.

  Whatever the case, it’s obvious this is a lost cause, so I stand up and walk towards the exit.

  “Just forget it,” I call over my shoulder. “We’ll go back to not talking. You’re right it’s probably better that way.”

  “Doesn’t bother me,” she retorts. “In fact…”

  I hate that I pause to hear her out, but I do. And when she leaves the words hanging, I spin around to find a hostile grin tugging at her lips.

  “I doubt you’ll be around here much longer anyway.” She snaps her gum. “Because you know what I think?”

  I roll my eyes, but answer her anyway. “What’s that Mandy?”

  “I think you’re going around trying to make Donny look bad to take the attention off of you. Because from what I hear, Donny’s the one who has dirt on you.”

  I cross my arms and try to look disinterested, but inside I’m mentally dissecting anything he could have come across. Mandy takes my silence as her cue to continue.

  “He told me something about you too… yeah, that’s right.” She snaps her fingers as though she’s just remembered. “He said you looked familiar. Very familiar.”

  I smile back in an attempt to show her she’s not getting to me. There’s no way I could look familiar to him. I’ve never met him before, that I am certain of. So what she’s saying doesn’t make any sense.

  “You know, he didn’t always run for this crew,” she adds in a bitter tone.

  “Your point, Mandy?”

  She stares at me for a long time, like she’s expecting me to have some sort of realization. I don’t. And I’m starting to think she’s just a mental case who’s trying to make me paranoid. If Donny had something on me, he would have spilled it by now. I shrug and turn back towards the door.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Have a good night, Mandy.”

  “Have a good rest of your life,” she laughs. “However long that may be.”

  In keeping with my routine, I check in with Sasha who has nothing new to report. She still hasn’t seen the Russian I’ve been waiting around for, so I go to work. My attempt at doing inventory is a bust. It’s impossible for me to keep count, let alone think straight. Mandy’s threat keeps bouncing around in my head.

  Does Donny know what I’m up to? And how could he unless he’d spent time with Tal and she specifically told him about me? It doesn’t seem likely.

  It’s all I can think about. This isn’t just about Tal or myself anymore. I have to protect Lachlan too. If his men find out that I’ve been lying and snooping around and he was the one who brought me here, I don’t know what they will do to him. I can’t let him pay for my actions. I can’t let my grief over Talia destroy him. Because deep down, I know he didn’t have anything to do with it. His crew? Maybe. Possibly. But Lachlan? No frigging way.

  He’s a good man. He didn’t deserve this. The lies and the sneaking around. I can’t imagine what it would do to him if he found out I was using him. Maybe that isn’t fair, considering he was pretty much doing the same, but it still hurts to even think about it. I don’t know how I’d ever explain my betrayal. I don’t know how I’d make him believe it isn’t that way now.

  But none of that matters. I sealed my fate the moment I crossed enemy lines. I came here with a purpose, and there’s no way I could hide that forever. There was always a chance that things would implode like this. I just didn’t think it would be so hard to leave him when they did. I don’t want to. I’m not ready for that. But with every minute that ticks by on the clock tonight, I feel it in my chest.

  It’s time. I have to leave now. Something isn’t right, and I can’t wait around to find out what Donny’s got up his sleeve. Maybe I can just have one more night with Lachlan. I could… I don’t know… tell him how I feel. Which is crazy and pointless, especially when I can hardly make sense of it myself. I don’t know what to do.

  After the fifth failed attempt at counting, I head back to the bar… only to find Donny watching me from his seat. And for the briefest of seconds, I see it.

  Recognition.

  It’s there in his eyes, and this time it’s clear as day. He isn’t hiding it. In fact, there’s a smug smile on his lips. He does know. In my gut, I know it’s true. He somehow knows, and he’s going to take me down.

  Fuck.

  I walk on shaky legs to the bar and order a drink. If I leave now, he’ll know what I’m doing. So I pretend like everything is fine when inside I’m screaming. I don’t even know where Lachlan is. Shit. I’m not going to have a chance to say goodbye. Goodbye.

  Why does that hurt so much?

  Tears blur my eyes, and the five minutes I wait for him to leave feel like a hundred. When he finally does, I tell Ronan I’m going back to finish inventory.

  Instead, I veer off down the hall and use the back door that Lach usually enters through. His car isn’t in the lot. He’s still gone.

  I should be relieved. I should be running like hell. But instead, I’m practically dragging myself out onto the curb to flag down a cab. My feet feel like they’re weighted down with cement. Perhaps an ominous premonition of my body’s own making. There’s a part of me that still lingers here, that doesn’t want to leave. It isn’t even because of the answers, and that’s what’s so wrong.r />
  How did this happen? Donny’s fucking with me. He’s going to spill, but he’s been holding out. There has to be a reason, a plan. He wouldn’t just let this stuff slide.

  It doesn’t matter. There’s only one thing I can do now. I don’t have the answers I’m seeking, but all I can think about is how this is going to affect Lachlan. How this is going to blow back on him. There’s only one way to protect that from happening. I have to leave. I have to go back to Lach’s, get all my shit, and leave.

  Scarlett picks up on the third ring, and I can tell by the din of the bar in the background that she’s drinking.

  “Hey babe,” she says. “How’s things?”

  “Shit’s hit the fan,” I tell her. “And I need you to get out of town for a bit.”

  I expect a fight, but instead there’s a pause.

  “You alright?” she asks softly.

  Scarlett is never soft with me. She must be able to hear the emotion in my voice. I’m not in a good place right now.

  “I’m fine,” I lie. “I just want to know you’re safe so I can deal with this.”

  “Sure,” she says. “You know I can take care of myself. But what are you going to do?”

  “I’m leaving too, and I’ll contact you as soon as I can,” I promise. “I have to dump this phone.”

  “Okay, be careful.”

  “Alright Scarlett.” I choke up a little. “Take care.”

  When I walk inside Lachlan’s house, I’m startled by a noise in the kitchen. I didn’t see any cars outside, so I don’t know who it could be. There’s no way Ronan could have noticed I was gone and beaten me here so fast.

  I hesitate at the door, but then I hear nothing. Thinking I might be going crazy, and definitely paranoid, I walk in to investigate. Which turns out to be a mistake.

  Before I can even fully comprehend what’s happening, someone grabs me from behind and shoves me against the wall. My heart jackhammers in my chest when I feel the rage rolling off his body, combined with the scent of Lach’s cologne.