Boston Underworld: The Collection

by A. Zavarelli

  He retreats down the hall and I gulp in a few large breaths as I venture in the direction of the dressing rooms. I hate this constant edginess inside me and I wonder if it will ever go away.

  I attempt to focus on the task of getting ready, but I’m even more of a mess than usual. It’s been a crazy day. One surreal event after another. This afternoon, I got married. And now, I’m at a strip club getting ready to take off my clothes for the world to see. Not exactly a fairytale ending.

  Tears prick my eyes, and I wave my hands in front of my face, hoping they don’t ruin my makeup. I told myself I could do this. I told myself that I could dance naked as long as it put some desperately needed cash in my pocket. I swore that I would do anything to earn money if it meant getting Archer out of this city safely.

  The first time I danced, I was so high on adrenaline and the simple prospect of a job, it seemed like I could do anything. But now I’m keenly aware that I’m married to one of these guys. A truth that’s going to come out sooner or later. And when it does, all his friends will have seen me naked. It makes my stomach flip. It makes me want to vomit.

  The fact that Conor lied to keep me away from here keeps playing on repeat through my mind. There must have been a reason. He must have felt the same way too. That’s the only plausible explanation for his surly behavior the entire way over. But if he didn’t want me dancing tonight, he didn’t say so. Not in words, anyway.

  It’s not like it matters. Regardless of what happened today, I need this job and the money it brings in. I have to go out on that stage and shake my ass and forget about the fact that I have a warm home and food in my belly for now. In the grand scheme of things, this situation is only temporary. My longevity lies in making money and planning my escape.

  With that thought at the forefront of my mind, I force one platformed heel in front of the other when my name is called. But I’m totally off my game tonight, and I don’t feel sexy at all. I’m too stiff and trying to dance organically isn’t working. Even if I somehow manage to make it through the whole set, Crow will probably fire me for scaring customers away.

  The intro is long, but the first two minutes pass in a blur of uncoordinated chaos. The intensity of the stage lights makes it difficult, but I can still make out Conor’s form in the back watching me from the shadows. I wish that I could see his face while the other men chant for me to take it all off.

  The worst thing is there’s a part of me that wishes he would save me from this too. It’s silly and stupid and entirely impractical to want for such things. He isn’t my prince charming and I can’t allow hope to bloom where none exists. I’m nothing to Conor. We are married in name only, and he won’t hesitate to kill me just like he threatened if I step outside of the invisible boundaries.

  My throat works to hold back too many emotions as I untie the strings of my bikini top. The crowd gets louder as they shout encouragement, and the shadow I was focused on has disappeared into the fray. I’m on my own now. As alone as I’ve ever been.

  I focus on Archer and the dream I’ve always had. Just me, and him, and the cape. Someday, this will be a distant memory while we build sandcastles by the sea. That’s what I tell myself as I allow my top to drop to the floor beneath me.

  My stomach is a riot of nerves, and then without warning, there’s a riot around me. Someone shouts something and the music stutters before two huge hands grab me from behind and yank me back into the shadows, tossing a coat over my body.

  “Conor?” I blink.

  “For fucks sake.” He stares at me like he doesn’t know what he’s doing either. “This is over. I won’t have my wife making a mockery of herself up on stage like this. It’s done.”

  Before I have a chance to answer, our night gets a whole lot worse. Because now Crow is here, stage side, looking up at Conor like he’s lost his fucking mind.

  “Would ye care to tell me what the bleeding hell is going on here?”

  14

  CONOR

  WE FOLLOW Crow down the hall and into his office where he tells some of the other lads to get the feck out. They offer me a pitiful look before they scramble, and Crow instructs me to take a seat across from his desk before turning to Ivy. “You can wait in the hall.”

  “No.” I look him dead in the eye. “She stays in here with me.”

  He stares at me like I’ve gone mad, and I suppose I have, talking to him that way. But I don’t trust having Ivy out of my sight for a second right now. I need his word that no harm will come to her, and in the meantime, I need her where I can see her, so she doesn’t try to run off on me.

  “Chrissakes.” Crow yanks another chair out and gestures for her to sit down too. “By all means, don’t listen to me.”

  He slams the office door shut and pours himself two fingers of whiskey. “What have ye done, Conor? Just fucking spit it out. I already know I’m not going to like it.”

  The disappointment on his face is worse than the possibility of confronting my own death. I hate that I’ve gone and trampled all over his trust. If it weren’t for Crow, I wouldn’t have anything. I’ve thrown it all away for a woman. But when I look at her, hands trembling in her lap while my jacket practically swallows her whole, I know I’d do it all over again. And Crow might say otherwise, but he would too.

  “The thing is, I know what ye asked me to do,” I tell him. “And I had every intention of following through on that. But there was a complication.”

  Crow narrows his eyes. “What sort of complication?”

  “She has a son. A wee one. And she’s the only parent he has left.”

  Ivy shoots me a look like I’ve just betrayed her, but she doesn’t get how this works. This syndicate is a family, and we protect our own. Especially the wee ones. Family is something Crow understands, and I recognize that when he drains his glass in a hurry.

  “Fecking Christ. Goddammit motherfucking—”

  Ivy flinches as he begins to pace around the room. She’s jumpy around him for good reason. I just can’t figure out why she isn’t like that with me. Crow glances at her and for a split second, he looks sorry for scaring her. But Crow isn’t one to let his emotions get in the way of what’s best for the brotherhood.

  “Tell me what ye know.” He points at her. “Whatever it is you saw, and don’t leave anything out.”

  Ivy chews on her lip and looks to me for reassurance. I won’t have her lie to Crow. There’s no sense in that. I signal for her to go ahead, and she jerks her attention back to him.

  “I was in the house that night your guys came. When the shots started, I hid in the closet. I didn’t see anything, but I heard it. All I know is that when I finally came out, Muerto was dead.”

  The vein in Crow’s neck pulses. “Conor, I’m going to need a word with ye in private now.”

  “It was the best day of my life—” Ivy blurts.

  Crow cocks his head to the side and studies her carefully, looking for any sign of weakness or dishonesty.

  “I know that sounds crazy,” she admits. “But it really was. If it weren’t for your guys killing Muerto, I would still be there. I would still be his prisoner.”

  Crow glances at me for confirmation. “It’s true. She told me her story.”

  “And you believe her?” His voice is caustic.

  “Aye,” I growl. “I do. Kind of like you believed your wife back when you were in a situation not so different.”

  His mouth pinches into a hard line, and I know I shouldn’t have brought it up. But he shouldn’t have accused me of being ignorant when it comes to Ivy.

  “What exactly are ye getting at, Conor?”

  “I’m just reminding ye that we’ve all done things that don’t necessarily fall in line. I know what ye asked me to do, and I had every intention of proving myself, since it seems like I never get the bloody chance. This was it for me. And you aren’t going to like what I have to say, but I’m going to say it anyway.”

  He takes up the seat behind his desk again, and if I
didn’t know any better, he almost looks amused with this shite. “By all means, if ye have a point to make, then get to it.”

  I look to Ivy, and to drive it home, I reach for her hand. She takes mine without hesitation, and warmth fills the space between her fragile fingers in mine. Crow’s eyes flick between us, searching for the answer I have yet to give him.

  “I haven’t got the rings yet, but it’s legal.”

  “Fack off with this shite, Conor,” Crow bites out. “You’ve got to be joking me. Don’t tell me ye actually went and married her.”

  My hand tightens around hers. “Aye, I did. She’s my wife now, and according to our laws, that means none of the brothers can touch her.”

  There’s a full minute of silence in which Crow doesn’t move or speak. He just sits there, staring at the both of us like he’s trying to sort out who to murder first.

  “What do you make of this?” he asks Ivy.

  The question comes out of left field, and it’s something I didn’t prepare her for. I have no bleeding idea what she’s going to say, but I’m almost dead certain it won’t be anything good.

  Ivy squares her posture and looks him straight in the eye. “I know what you wanted him to do, but you can’t fault him for having a heart. He’s given me the chance to let my son grow up with a mother. He’s a good man. An honest man. And I think that he saved my life.”

  My eyes drift over her, drinking in the details of her face. I’m looking for the lies in her words, but I can’t find them. She’s vulnerable, but not as delicate as I thought. Her honesty comes off as genuine, and surely Crow will recognize that too.

  Crow pours himself another drink and swirls the amber whiskey around his glass. “Ivy, I need ye to do me a wee favor now then. I need ye to wait up at the bar for Conor.”

  Our eyes meet, it looks like she’s actually worried about me. But I rationalize it’s more likely she’s only worried what will happen to her if Crow decides to off me tonight.

  “I’ll be out shortly.” I squeeze her hand. “It’s okay.”

  She wraps my coat around her like a security blanket before she takes her leave, allowing Crow to speak his piece.

  “You went against a direct order,” he barks. “And ye have it in your thick head that you can just come in here and tell me that it’s all sorted?”

  “That isn’t what I said. I know there are other details we need to work out, and ye have every right to throttle me for what I did. If that’s your wish, then I don’t need to grant ye my permission. My loyalty is to the brotherhood, let there be no bones about that. But I can’t stand for an innocent woman and child to suffer just to save our necks. This was the only way I saw fit. And I know ye must be able to understand that, given the past history ye have with Mack.”

  “Quit bringing up my goddamn wife,” he says. “She’s got nothing to do with this. That was different.”

  “How?” I ask.

  “Because I cared about her.” He slams his glass down on the desk. “You barely know this girl. And now ye’ve just gone and saddled yourself to her for life. Have ye even considered that?”

  “I know enough. She’s had a rough go of it and she deserves a chance. I don’t have any regrets over my decision.”

  Crow stares at me, dumbfounded. I’m fairly certain there’s only one conclusion here. He’s going to tell me to get my arse down to the basement, so he can break my leg or cut off a finger or something equally gruesome to dole out the punishment I deserve. But instead, he just sighs.

  “Let us be clear about one thing,” he says. “I’m not going soft in me ways. But I’ve watched you struggle to prove yourself to this syndicate from the day ye came stumbling into it. And if there’s anything I can say about this bombshell ye just dropped on me, it’s that I think ye finally have.”

  His words take me by surprise, and so does the laughter that spews from his chest. “Ye must really have a pair on you to walk in here tonight like ye did and state your case. You’ve come a long way from the young lad I first met. And for that, I’m proud of ye, Conor. But let’s not make it a fecking habit, aye?”

  “I’ve no intentions of disobeying ye again, Crow. Ye have my word on that.”

  “Grand,” he answers. “Because now I have another task that will put that to the test.”

  “What is it?”

  “You and Ivy need to keep this on the downlow for a while. Just a month or so. Let the lads see ye together and know ye’re a couple before ye go dropping the big news that you’ve signed your life away to this girl. Otherwise, it will raise questions and set precedent for the other lads to go marrying whoever they fancy when the situation warrants it.”

  “It will remain quiet,” I assure him.

  Crow nods. “Don’t think that just because you’ve put a ring on her finger, it’s over. She’s protected as long as she’s worth protecting. It’s up to you to keep her in line, now and forever. I expect ye to make a real go at it. Give her a life that she would die for, a husband she’s proud to call hers. And down the line, get her in a family way.”

  The image of Ivy with a belly full of my child springs to mind, and my dick swells unexpectedly at the thought.

  Crow smirks like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, and then he gestures for the door. “Now get the feck out of my office. I’ve got shite to do.”

  15

  CONOR

  I CHUCKED IN THE END, just as Reaper predicted.

  It wasn’t Albie’s expressionless eyes or the gaping mouth where his tongue used to be. It was after Reaper got rid of the body, when I looked around the room, there was blood everywhere. And without the task of sawing off appendages and torture to distract me, I could smell it everywhere too. The metallic tang so thick on your lips you can taste it.

  “Let’s get ye cleaned up a wee bit,” Crow says. “We’ll sort ye out a lap dance before you come back down.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter. “But I have a girlfriend.”

  He gives me an odd look, almost like he doesn’t believe me. “Well she’s not here now, is she? And ye don’t seem all that concerned about her grieving over your loss.”

  His words hit me hard, but I don’t bother mentioning that my girlfriend overdosed last month, right after she finished fucking her dealer. “I’d rather just get on with it,” I say. “If you don’t mind.”

  Before Crow can agree, Rory appears at the bottom of the steps with an older man in tow. Crow’s face turns to stone when he spots the man, but he dips his head as a sign of respect. “Niall.”

  “Lachlan.”

  There’s a long pause of silence as all three men look at each other, and then Niall turns his attention to me.

  “This the lad?” he asks Rory.

  “Aye, it is,” Rory answers. “This is the young lad.”

  Crow’s fists curl at his sides and he blows out a breath. “The lad made a deal. He knew what he was getting himself into, young or not.”

  “This true?” Niall looks to me. He’s an older man, and by the way they wait for him to speak, I’m guessing he’s the one in charge.

  And now Crow’s eyeballing me like he half expects me to be a snake. To rat him out or change my story.

  “It’s true,” I say. “He gave me what I asked for, and I’m ready to fulfill my side of the deal.”

  Niall doesn’t respond right away, and they are all quiet while he seems to sort the situation out in his head. “What’s your name, laddy?”

  “Conor O’ Callahan,” I answer.

  “O’ Callahan,” Niall repeats quietly.

  “Irish as the day is long,” Rory says proudly.

  Crow shakes his head. “Irish or not, we made a deal. The lad accepted it.”

  “Enough.” Niall stuffs his hands into his coat pockets and turns to Crow. “Tell me why ye decided this was the best way to sort this out, Lachlan.”

  Crow sighs and for the first time since I’ve met him, his façade cracks, just a little. “It’s not that I don’t li
ke the lad. I’ve got nothin’ against him. But I don’t have the time to take him under my charge, Niall. Ye know how tense things are at the moment with the Armenians moving in.”

  “Aye.” Niall shrugs. “I know.”

  Then he looks to Rory.

  “Crow’s right. He doesn’t have the time to take him under his charge. So, you will.”

  Rory falters for a second, and Crow smirks. “Problem solved.”

  Niall looks to me and shrugs. “Problem solved.”

  16

  IVY

  CONOR IS quiet again on the ride home. He doesn’t mention what happened between him and Crow after I left the office, but he doesn’t seem to be worried. He’s in his own headspace, but his shoulders are relaxed and every now and then he turns to look at me, offering me a small glimpse into his eyes. He’s much more at ease than I currently feel. I try to play it cool like he is, but I keep thinking of Archer, desperate for reassurance that it’s all going to be okay.

  “I imagine ye must be tired,” Conor says when we walk in the door. “You can sleep in the bed again. I’ll take the sofa.”

  “Okay.” I nod, but I don’t want to leave the room, and I can’t exactly figure out why. I should be grateful that he’s respecting my boundaries. But if I’m being honest, I would be okay with having him sleep next to me. I would be more than okay because I know I’d feel safe. After everything that’s happened today, I’m emotionally tapped out, and for once, I just want someone else to do the heavy lifting. I want the guy who put his own life on the line to save mine to sleep next to me and tell me everything’s going to be okay. Is that so bad?

  It’s a terrifying thing to acknowledge. In just the matter of a few simple days, Conor has proved himself honorable in my eyes. I can only hope I don’t end up the fool for allowing myself to get caught up in this.

  “I want to go visit Archer tomorrow,” I blurt.

  Conor’s eyes move over my face, soft and filled with an understanding that jump starts the heart I was certain had already died. “Sure, we can do that.”