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Boston Underworld: The Collection

Page 54

by A. Zavarelli


  I’m quickly learning that the syndicate has a lot more secrets than they’d like anyone to believe. Some of those work out to our advantage. Although, I’d never wish ill on Niall, in a way I’m grateful he retired. Because it left the burden of punishment for Ronan’s betrayal up to Lachlan. And it’s safe to say that it’s pretty much been swept under the rug.

  But there’s also the small matter of dealing with the feds. Although Ronan assured me that it’s all been handled, they still need to interview me about what happened at that safe house. So the day we get back to Boston that’s where I spend the majority of the afternoon with my syndicate appointed lawyer at my side.

  They wouldn’t let Ronan come into the interview with me, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought. The lawyer handled almost everything, just as Ronan said he would. Since there isn’t enough evidence to indict Ronan or I with anything, we are officially free to begin our life together.

  We’ve decided to have a small ceremony at Slainte just like Mack and Lachlan did. It’s strange that the place I thought I’d never want to see again is where I’ll be reciting my vows. But now that Ronan’s in charge there, I couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else. We’ll be surrounded by our friends and family. Which is exactly what the syndicate is. A family.

  The only person who won’t be there is Emily. When I told her I was marrying Ronan, she didn’t have much to say about it. I’m honestly okay with that. Em is living her life, and I’m living mine. She might not understand my choices, but I’ve come to terms with them, and that’s all that really matters.

  Ronan is my life. My breath. My sole reason for existing sometimes. I know it sounds insane, but it’s how I feel. We were put on this earth to find each other. And when he looks at me with those dark brown eyes like he’s doing right now, I know what we have is one of a kind. A supernova. A love so rare, so unparalleled, it shines brighter than any other in existence.

  He wraps his arm around me protectively and bundles me into the car, going so far as to reach down and buckle me in.

  I’m smiling up at him, and when he catches me, his fingers graze my jaw and he kisses me. I grab his head and kiss him back, getting really into it before he pulls away.

  “Sasha?”

  “Hmm?”

  “We have to go see about this baby,” he says.

  “Oh.” I glance at his watch and check the time. “Right.”

  Ronan shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s seat. He was relieved for all of two seconds upon leaving the interview, and now he’s nervous all over again. But I am too. We’re having our first scan today.

  I’ve already got a little bump. Time is slipping away from me, and there’s still so much to do. I have to get everything for a nursery and start doing some reading. Mack’s called me about twenty times freaking out because she read that her feet are going to get huge and never return to normal. Then she started telling me about the uterus stretching to the size of a watermelon. That’s when I told her to stop calling me.

  But now I’m all panicky and trying to stay calm for Ronan’s sake. I keep thinking about all the things Mack said and how she joked we might have to join the circus after. All I can picture is me morphing into something completely unrecognizable. Already, I feel huge and I’m paranoid Ronan’s going to think so too.

  Logically, I know I’m worrying over nothing. When he sees me naked, he’s all over me. Even more so than usual. He hasn’t said so, but I think he likes the sight of me pregnant with his baby. He tells everyone when we see them. He might as well be walking around with a banner that proclaims he got me pregnant.

  He pulls into the parking lot of the doctor’s office and cuts the engine. But before he can get out, I reach over and take his hand in mine.

  “I’m nervous,” I tell him. “I know you are too.”

  My hand trembles, and my voice is hoarse when I speak. “I’ve been trying to stay strong, because I know this whole thing really freaks you out. But I’m freaked out too, Ronan.”

  He frowns, and then pulls away from me, stepping out of the car. The dam almost breaks loose right then when I think he’s going to remind me that we have a schedule to keep. But instead, he walks around to my side and pulls me out of the car.

  He wraps his arms around me and kisses my face. I’m shaking with nerves and he’s completely cool and calm now. I didn’t expect that. Since we found out and his first reaction, I thought I would have to tread lightly the whole pregnancy. Give him information in little bits and never tell him any of my fears.

  But right now, this man holding me isn’t the same one who walked out on me that day. This man is my protector. Rock-solid and cool-headed and exactly what I need in this moment.

  “Sasha.” He murmurs between kisses. “Ye don’t need to handle me with kid gloves. It’s my job to care for and protect you. Always. If ye’re nervous, I want ye to tell me so. I might not have the right words, but I’ll try.”

  I shake my head and a few tears leak out of my eyes.

  “I know,” I tell him. “I should have just told you. I’ve just been worried that I’m going to freak you out if I say anything.”

  “I’m already freaked out,” he admits. “But I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn’t ever have any notion to. The only place I want to be is here with you. And I don’t think ye have any reason to worry. Ye’re going to do a grand job of this, I’ve no doubts about that.”

  “But Mack said we’re going to look like circus freaks,” I sob.

  Ronan frowns again and shakes his head. “That isn’t possible, Sasha. Ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the good fortune of seeing. That isn’t going to change. No matter how many babies I put inside of you.”

  “Then I’m going to be a bad mother,” I whine.

  “Sasha,” Ronan’s voice grows stern. “Ye’re stalling now.”

  “So what?” I argue. “I don’t want to go inside. I think I’m going to have a heart attack. Feel it. It’s going crazy in there.”

  I’m not lying about that. I’m right in the middle of a panic attack. I don’t know why, only that I’m so frigging nervous.

  Ronan leans down and cups my face in his hands. “Do the counting thing you do,” he says. “I’ll help if you want.”

  “You know about that?” I blink up at him as I clutch at my chest.

  “Aye,” he answers. “I know everything there is to know about you.”

  I’m still focusing on that little tidbit when he grabs my hand and tilts my chin up. “How does it go, exactly? Five things, right?”

  “Right,” I answer.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, the scent of Ronan calming me a little.

  “Roasted pine nuts and malt liquor,” I whisper. “That’s you.”

  Another breath. I open my eyes and meet his, soft and steady and sure.

  “Dark chocolate.”

  I take another breath, and he kisses me again. When he pulls away, I can still taste him on my tongue. “Mint.”

  “Two more,” he encourages.

  My breathing has calmed already, and I feel better, but I like that he’s doing this with me. So I continue. The sounds of Boston are all around us. The cars and the people and the usual noise. But the only thing that resonates as I press my face against his chest is him. “Heartbeat.”

  Ronan takes our connected hands and moves them both over my belly, and he finishes the last one for me.

  “Our baby.”

  46

  RONAN

  OVER THE COURSE of my life, I think I’ve been in a doctor’s office only once. When I was still a young lad and Crow’s mammy forced me to go.

  I don’t like these places. They remind me of the dungeon in the basement at Slainte. The one where I handle the clients.

  That thought is only confirmed when I spot the table they want to put Sasha up on. I reach out and grab her arm to stop her, but then I remember how out of sorts she was in the parking lot. She doesn’t need my worries
added to hers.

  When she glances back at me in question, I help her up on the table even though everything inside of me is screaming not to. Then I stand right beside her, so if the technician tries anything funny, she’ll have to contend with me.

  The nurse goes over some questions with Sasha, all of which I listen to with the utmost attention. I feel as though I should know these things. Or that I should have asked her myself, maybe. I make a mental note to ask her more about them later.

  They check a whole load of things I never thought to worry about before. Now I find myself wondering if she’s eating enough. Or carrying heavy things when I’m not around. I know she’s been taking baths. She could slip if I’m not there. Or burn herself when she’s cooking. I’m in the middle of sorting out a round the clock security detail when the technician comes in.

  She instructs Sasha to lay back and smears some sort of goopy stuff onto her belly. It’s already round and I have a hard time looking away whenever I see it. I like knowing that my baby is inside of her. That I was the one who did that to her. I can’t imagine ever liking it with anyone else.

  But I want to see what Sasha and I made together. I’m staring at the screen impatiently when Sasha reaches for my hand. Her eyes are panicky again, and I haven’t a clue how to comfort her. But I try, just as I promised I would.

  I lean down and kiss her on the cheek which she seems to like. I do that a lot now. The technician smiles at us, but I don’t care. Because Sasha is mine. And I’ll do what I like with her.

  A noise comes on over the speakers, and both of us move our attention back to the screen as the wand glides over her belly.

  I see it. I see my baby. It’s just a wee fuzzy spot on the screen as the technician points out. But it’s there. And then there’s the heartbeat. Strong, like I knew it would be.

  The technician starts to speak, and Sasha does too.

  “Shh…” I tell them.

  Sasha blinks up at me and laughs. “Did you just shush me?”

  I clear my throat and my cheeks burn when I realize I did. “I just wanted to listen for a moment longer.”

  “You can listen as long as you like,” the technician says.

  So I do. I listen and take it all in. Memorizing every detail on the screen. When I finally look away, Sasha is smiling up at me. She doesn’t seem nervous anymore, and I’m glad.

  “Okay,” I tell the technician.

  She points out a few things on the photo and checks everything over. She says that she can’t yet tell if it’s a boy or a girl, but it makes no difference. Sasha has it in her head that she doesn’t want to know, and I agreed that was fine.

  I know it’s going to be a boy anyhow. It has to be. Because I haven’t a bloody clue what to do with a girl.

  She wraps up the session and slips out of the room, allowing Sasha a moment to get herself back together. But before she can, I lean down and kiss her. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. It can’t be helped, especially right here and now.

  When I pull away, she’s breathless and flustered. And I like that too.

  “Can we go home now?” she asks. “And stay there… for like a week.”

  “Aye,” I tell her. “Let’s get you home.”

  47

  SASHA

  WHEN I SAID that I wanted Ronan to stay home with me, I didn’t really think he’d be able to. But he’s been here for four days, and he’s now officially driving me nuts.

  Apparently he took everything that was mentioned at the doctor’s appointment as potential red flags. He’s been watching my every movement. Helping me downstairs. Refusing to let me cook. Telling Daisy she’s not allowed to sit near my belly anymore. I drew the line when he tried to install safety grab bars all over the bathroom, citing the potential slip risks.

  “Ronan.”

  “Aye?” he glances away from his book, his eyes scanning over me like something might be wrong.

  “Don’t you have to go back to work?”

  He blinks at me. And then frowns. “Do ye not want me here with you?”

  “Of course I do,” I answer him. “But I also want things to be normal. I’d rather you got into the routine of running the club now so when I really need you later on, you can be here.”

  “I have it all sorted,” he says. “I can be here now.”

  “Okay, but…” I blow out a breath. “You need to chill a little, alright?”

  “I don’t understand,” he answers.

  And I know he really doesn’t.

  “I’m okay. The baby’s okay. I know I had a little freak out at the doctor’s office. But I’m good now. I don’t want you to be so worried about everything, alright? It makes me anxious when you do that.”

  “But I love you,” is his reply.

  And I smile, because… well, Ronan.

  I crawl across the sofa and sit down in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.

  “I love you too, Ronan,” I murmur against him. “You’re lucky you’re adorable. Because sometimes you drive me crazy.”

  “Now ye understand how I feel,” he says, cupping my ass in his hands. “I worry about ye all the bleeding time, Sasha. All the time. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

  “That’s love,” I answer. “Wait until you meet our baby. It’s only going to get worse.”

  He kisses me deep and hard and starts pawing at my body beneath my clothes. And then he’s carrying me down the hall to the bedroom, discarding them along the way. While it took me months to get him naked the first time, now he doesn’t want it any other way. He likes to feel his skin against mine. And I do too.

  He makes love to me. It’s still feverish, but gentle too. Even after all this time, it still feels like the first time. He comes inside of me and stays there, kissing all over my face.

  “This time next week,” he says. “Ye’re finally going to be my wife.”

  During the week before our wedding, I spend a lot of time picking out things for the nursery. Ronan goes along wherever I do and never complains. He even puts everything together too.

  It shouldn’t surprise me, but he’s very handy at that type of stuff as well. He always reads the instructions three times over before he begins, but once he’s done that he whips all the pieces into shape in no time at all.

  I like to watch him do these things. Such simple things. But it’s part of building a life together. Piece by piece.

  When I think about marrying him in only five short days, it still feels like a dream. Our life is nowhere near perfect. I’m marrying into the mafia. This world can be dark and chaotic and full of the unknown. But the one thing I know for certain is that with Ronan at my side, we can navigate it together.

  I don’t want our pasts to dictate our future. I want to wash away the bad and replace it with good. Which is why I’ve been working on something for him, whenever I can find the time. Ronan’s life has been filled with evil and torment and pain. He has a dark side, but there’s so much good in him too.

  I want to remind him of that. I want him to know that he isn’t only what his childhood created him to be. So I’ve drawn something for him. A man with angel’s wings. Wings that I hope will spread the length of his back and cover his old tattoos. The codes that were engraved on him when he had no choice in the matter.

  It came to me in a dream one night while I lay at his side. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. But now that I’ve finished, and I’m getting ready to unveil it, I feel sick.

  I don’t know if he’s going to like it. I don’t know if he’d even be open to getting another tattoo. And I certainly don’t want him to think that I want to change him. Or that I don’t accept him for who he is. That isn’t the case at all.

  All of these thoughts are going through my mind when he looks up at me from his place on the couch. He’s reading, and I’m watching TV. Which I insisted we buy. Ronan didn’t deny me. And more and more, I catch him watching the true crime shows with
me. I think they fascinate him.

  But right now, he’s looking at me. Like he knows something is up. Which is weird because I used to think he wasn’t perceptive at all. But really, Ronan is more perceptive than anybody would ever know. He just doesn’t let onto it.

  “All good?” His eyes skim over my belly. “Are ye not feeling well?”

  “I’m okay,” I tell him. “Just nervous.”

  He closes the book in his hands and gives me his full attention.

  “How can I make it better?” he asks, with such sincerity in his eyes I can’t help but smile at this handsome man. My soon to be husband. My rock, and my life.

  “I love you,” I blurt. “You know that, right?”

  “Aye,” he answers. “I do.”

  “And I don’t want you to change. Ever. Unless you want to, I mean. I just…”

  My words fall away and I get that panicky feeling in my chest again. Ronan reaches out and pulls me closer, his eyes meeting mine.

  “Tell me anything, Sasha,” he says. “Ye have no need to be worried.”

  “I made you something,” I admit. “But I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”

  His thumb skates over the back of my hand, and just that small gesture has a way of anchoring me to him and keeping the panic at bay.

  “Show me,” he insists.

  I get up and walk to the cabinet, pulling out the file folder that has the drawing inside. I’m chewing on my lip as I thrust it into his hands.

  “It’s just an idea,” I tell him. “You don’t have to do it. But I thought if you wanted to cover up your tattoos…”

  Ronan opens the file and stares down at the drawing. For a really long time. The room is entirely too quiet. And I’m sure he’s going to hate it.

  “This was really stupid.” I try to take the folder back, but he keeps hold of it, his eyes taking in every detail the way they always do.

  “I like it,” he says.

  That’s it. Simple and to the point. And just so Ronan. But I need more.

 

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