Tough Love (The Shakedown Series Book 3)

by Elizabeth SaFleur

  “Oh, it’s not every one. And I’m not going anywhere.” Leaving now was out of the question, but he had to get Luna somewhere no one from his circles knew the location of. Petra could drive her because he knew the man remained loyal despite the seeds planted by Sean.

  Sean, however, was a different matter—and someone he’d deal with later.

  “I’ve got to get this call, so later, Sean. That is if you still want to hang around.”

  He lifted his chin, his eyes drooping in fatigue. “You know I’m here for you,” he said quietly—begrudgingly. Then he clumped out of the room. At least he shut the door quieter than when he arrived.

  Carragh dropped back to the chair and lifted the phone. The night was young. And, for now, he had a few more things to say.

  “Declan,” he said into the phone. “Thanks for calling me back. I have news you’re going to want to hear.” He then gave Declan the assurance he would need to put the final puzzle piece in place. He’d deliver the backup information to prove what he said later.

  The clock struck midnight before he got to his bed—where he joined a sleeping Luna Belle. As he slipped between the sheets, she rolled toward him.

  She was still half-asleep, her eyes closed, her face nestled in his neck. I love you, I love you, I love you—Luna’s hushed, raspy whispers crowded his brain. She’d inhaled so much smoke. Jesus, she’d almost died.

  He punched down the wrath that rose in his chest, and ran his hand down her back. Under his fingers, her skin glowed in the twilight.

  “Everything okay?” Her throat was too raw to be talking.

  “You should be asleep, but yes, it’s going to be. Rest your voice, love.”

  “Are you sure?” She slid her face back, her blue eyes shining in the dark. “If anything happened to you…” Her small hand fell to his cheek.

  This woman. Of all the things to be worried about, his safety shouldn’t be one of them.

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the palm of her hand. “I love you, Luna Belle O’Malley.” There wasn’t anything else to say.

  “Love you more,” she smiled.

  “Not possible.” He rolled to his back, took her with him, and sighed. He would lie like this with her every night if it was the last thing he would do. It then dawned on him. It was possible if he’d just crash through that final barrier standing in their way.

  His mind wasn’t ready for sleep.

  Her finger traced one of the dragon wings inked on his chest. “I love this. When did you get it done?” She did seem to have a fascination with it.

  “Eighteen. Took a full year.”

  “Why a dragon?”

  “To remind me to have courage.”

  “You knew even then this day would come?”

  “Yes.” Oddly, he had known—from age fourteen on. He may not have known exactly how his mother died, but he knew who was responsible. The man he was taking down—soon.

  Her fingers fanned out, spanning the full inked wing. “Dragons are so misunderstood, especially in the movies.” She lifted her head. “They are powerful and benevolent. They’re protectors. At least that’s what I believe.” Her warm pink lips met the dragon head. “It suits you.”

  They say belief is powerful, but to have someone believe in you? Liberating.

  He eased her away from him, rolled to his side and sat up. She joined him, the sheet slipping to reveal she was in one of his t-shirts. Nothing could look better on her.

  “I want one, too.” She pointed her finger at her heart. “Right here.”

  He captured her face with both hands. “Then you will have one.”

  Her lips stretched into a smile.

  She would have everything she wanted because they were going to be together forever. Sean also had one good idea tonight, one Carragh was adopting sooner than later. “Luna Belle, marry me.”

  35

  Luna sucked in a long breath and yanked open the door to the Phoenix Rising Dance Studio. The charred scent of burned wood still hung in the air like an unwanted guest. It didn’t dissipate as she drew deeper inside.

  Phee’s studio was damaged in the Shakedown fire, a sight she couldn’t even look at without her stomach turning over. Declan swore he’d fix Phee’s studio, and they all believed him. Until then, it remained closed. And they were all out of a job for a while.

  Deep murmurs sounded down the hall. When she entered the largest ballroom, Starr sat on the floor with Nathan, his ear pressed to her growing belly. She was smoothing down his hair and smiling down at him.

  Phee and Declan stood talking off to the side. She hadn’t expected to see Declan. His lungs were still burned from the fire, and her own throat still caught now and then.

  Cherry was nowhere to be found. She was always late. It didn’t matter. She knew more than most in this room about what Luna was going to have to tell them and what it would mean.

  Starr sent her a wide smile upon seeing her.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late.” She’d needed a few minutes in the parking lot to steel her nerves. “Hi, Declan. I didn’t expect you.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he rasped.

  “So, what’s up?” Phee wrinkled her nose. “The workmen are starting soon, thank God. The smell in here is awful.”

  “That’s fast.”

  “The sooner we put all this behind us, the better.”

  Yes, it was. She only hoped she wasn’t about to pile on more damage.

  Phee kissed her on her cheek. “You’re not announcing your retirement, are you?”

  Declan circled her sister’s waist. “Let’s hope not. I’ve already lost one great dancer.”

  “But gained a roommate, and you should rest your voice.”

  “Oh, more than that.” He pressed a kiss to her neck.

  So much love shone between them, her throat squeezed a little. Her sisters had found something good and true. Luna prayed they’d see that she had, too—even more than she thought possible in the unlikeliest place.

  “Not retiring. I wouldn’t do that to Declan. Remember that because I have other news.”

  “You and Max—”

  “No.” She shook her head adamantly and cleared her throat. “It’s not Max. It’s…” How could she do this? This was going to hurt them. Badly. They were never going to believe what she had to say—that she meant the words swimming on her tongue just dying to be spoken.

  Declan’s eyes softened. “Go on, Luna.” He already knew what she was going to reveal, or at least part of it, didn’t he? She could see her own truth reflected in his eyes. Carragh had said he and Declan had come to some understanding. Perhaps it was about her.

  In fact, maybe she should have brought Carragh with her. She’d insisted she be alone to tell them. She didn’t want him to have to hear their response.

  Courage, she needed to display courage. “Carragh is taking his father down.”

  “Yeah, right,” Phee scoffed. “He’s a MacKenna.”

  “He can’t help that. Just like we can’t help our last names,” Luna said.

  Starr stepped forward, her face a still mask. “You’re in love with him.”

  “She’s been in love with him.” Cherry’s voice carried over her bootheel clicks. She dropped her huge bag at her feet. “Go on, baby girl. Tell them.”

  Phee cocked her head in accusation Cherry’s way but then turned her glare to Luna.

  Luna twisted her fingers. “Yes. I am.”

  Starr’s mouth fell agape. “You can’t be.”

  Phee closed her eyes and swallowed. A single tear escaped down her cheek. Luna grasped her sister’s hand. “He’s not like them.”

  That got her to open her eyes. So much fear. It nearly cracked her heart in two. “I promise you—”

  “What? He’s now going to replace his father?”

  “He is,” Declan said.

  Nathan, who’d been quiet until that point, stood up and put Starr behind him. “Declan.” His voice was pure ice.

&n
bsp; Phee spun. “You knew?”

  “I only knew about Carragh’s plans but not about Luna. Just suspicions. And Nathan…” he looked up at the man. “Ruark is never getting out, and Tomas is going down for good.”

  Nathan just shook his head, his jaw a block of tension.

  “Have I ever lied to you?” he asked the man. Then he looked down at Phee. “Have I?”

  “Declan, please…” It wasn’t like Phee to beg, but there it was.

  He captured her chin in one hand. “Do you think I’d do anything to jeopardize you or anyone else here?” He glanced around the room. “I have something on Carragh. Handed to me by the man himself last night. Two jobs he was forced to do for his father.”

  “So?” Phee’s watery eyes remain fixed on him.

  “He handed me hard evidence. Files. Emails. Pictures. All of it.”

  “That just means he’ll come after you more. It’s a set-up.”

  “No, it’s not.” Luna stepped forward. “I don’t know what he gave you, Declan, but…” she faced an ashen Starr, red-faced Nathan, and smug-looking Cherry. “He intervened on our behalf three times now. Once with you…” she nodded toward Starr and Nathan.

  She then turned to Phee. “And again with you and Declan. And now? I’m with him. I love him.” Her last words were tight, forced through a throat that wanted to burst with an odd combination of happiness and intense sorrow. If her sisters didn’t accept him…

  “I love him. I love him.” The tears came. She couldn’t stop them.

  Phee pulled her into a hug. A few seconds later, Starr joined her. “I hope you know what you’re doing, L.,” Starr said into her hair. “Because I’ll pluck every one of his gorgeous black hairs out of his head if there is one more tear shed because of that family.”

  That shook a slight laugh out of Phee, and Luna followed with a big sniff. Phee released them and stared at her sisters’ faces. “I’ll do it for you.”

  Cherry sidled up to them. “I’ll help. We’ll start with the hair on his balls.”

  That even got a half-smile out of Nathan but drew a hearty laugh from Declan, which is all it took for her tears to stop.

  “Thank you.” Luna swiped under her eyes. “But no one touches his balls but me.”

  “Ewwww.” Starr raised her hand, which Luna grasped.

  Everyone stilled once more.

  “And I have to tell you something else. Just remember. Sisters forever. Friends always.” She gazed at Starr, who nodded slowly. She then turned to Phee, who gave her a tighter nod.

  Okay, deep breath. “We drove to Virginia and got married this morning.”

  36

  Carragh swiveled the chair and studied the painting over the credenza in his father’s office, not quite visible in the dark. But then he knew it by heart, having stood on the other side of his father’s desk, waiting for the man to turn the fuck around. He liked making people wait. That little habit would prove useful tonight.

  The silence in the house finally broke. It started with the front door opening and Petra greeting the visitors. Then the click of high heels—not the delicate tap of Luna’s steps but the harder clacks of Nicole’s. Sean’s shoe scuffs accompanied her, just as he suspected. It was easy to tell it was him by the keys jangling by his hip.

  At the office door, Petra’s voice. “He’s in the study. Waiting.”

  “Glad to see you’re keeping an eye out,” Sean said.

  “I’ve always been loyal. Sir.”

  Sean wouldn’t have caught the tightness in Petra’s voice. His cousin never was a detail guy, but Carragh knew the man was barely holding back his temper given what he’d shared with him—Sean’s suspicions about the man’s loyalty and now Carragh’s own suspicions about his cousin.

  Carragh flipped his father’s lighter back and forth a few times as they entered. Light from the hallway spilled in.

  “Sir?” Sean called.

  “Speak.” He slurred his words on purpose. “No light.” Just in case they got any bright ideas.

  “Sorry, I lost ‘em, but I won’t let you down. I’ll take care of her.”

  “The sooner the better, Sean.” Nicole’s haughty tone made Carragh tighten his grip on the lighter. “Jesus. If you don’t get rid of her, I will. I have no qualms about dropping her body on what’s left of Holland Island.”

  Sean chuffed. “Like your work at Shakedown. You’d have loved it, sir. Place went up like a box of matches. Nicole’s quite the pyro.” He chuckled and a female voice joined him.

  “What can I say? Flame is my signature color.”

  A beat of silence. He would see them hang themselves fully.

  Sean widened his stance. He didn’t even need to see the move to know the sounds of a man seeking better footing—and probably more compliments for his good soldier antics.

  “But Carragh—”

  “Always playing the white knight,” Nicole interrupted. The slide of fur against the chair before the desk sounded. So, Nicole was making herself at home.

  “Yeah… he is going to be a problem. So, if you need me to pull the trigger… I mean, whatever you say.”

  “You can’t wait for me,” Nicole tittered. “The man has proven untamable. He’d prefer the fire crotch.”

  Sean joined her laughter. “Maybe she’ll light his dick on fire.”

  Carragh had heard enough. “Oh, she does more than that.” He turned the chair to face them. “Petra. Light, please.” The man understood and switched on the table lamp. Sean could have taken a lesson or two on stealthiness. Even Carragh hadn’t heard him slink in behind them.

  Nicole shot to standing. “Carragh.”

  Sean tensed, his hand moving to his hip.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that… cousin.”

  Petra’s gun was at the back of Sean’s head in seconds. Perhaps Sean would learn. The devil is in the details—like how Petra was once his bodyguard, and skills like his were rarely lost in age.

  Both of Sean’s hands shot into the air. “Whoa, now. I don’t know what you think…”

  Nicole had the smarts to at least show fear. “I had nothing to do with any of this. Your father said to. Ordered it, actually.” She was backing up.

  Carragh rose. “Sit down, Nicole. As for you, Sean, I knew you could lie. It wasn’t Petra at all. It was you all along. The two of you.”

  Behind Petra, more delicate heel clicks sounded. Luna rounded him and scooted closer to Carragh. He pulled her behind him just in case Sean was not only disloyal but stupid as fuck and tried to make a move.

  “What the fuck is that stripper doing here?” Nicole gritted out.

  Carragh’s gaze shot to the woman. “You treat my wife with respect.”

  Sean’s face dropped. “Your…”

  “Wife. We were married this morning.”

  Luna’s hand tightened on his.

  “Ah, nothing warms the heart like a family meeting.” Patrick Monroe’s loud voice sounded in the doorway. He stepped just inside. “Nicole.”

  Her nostrils flared like a horse. “Daddy?”

  “Quiet.”

  “This is just a misunderstanding.” A nervous laugh.

  “Yes. You thought you could operate alone. Silly girl.” He wasn’t smiling. “You better keep your word better than your father, Carragh.”

  Sean’s hand was on his pistol. “Stand down, Sean. Now, listen up… all of you. I have enough blackmail material to send you all down.”

  Patrick’s jaw tensed.

  Sean, however, couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Now listen—”

  “Shut up, Sean. Patrick and I have come to an understanding.” A big one. It was simple really.

  The Kate MacKenna diaries, hidden by Declan for years, had proven useful. He shook enough people out of the woodwork the last few days who didn’t like seeing their loved ones’ names splashed in a young girl’s diaries—next to how his father gutted them.

  His father was now persona non grata with the other families in town
. Patrick wanted his deals to go through—he’d have to do so without the MacKenna backing. To sweeten the pot? He couldn’t wait to see Sean’s face with this next bit of news.

  “I’m out of my father’s business. Patrick can have all the contacts and dealers my father ever did business with. I’ll stay out of his business and he’ll stay out of mine. Our product lines don’t mix. I don’t care about his—”

  “And I could give a shit about energy. What a crock,” Patrick sneered.

  “Your father—” Sean started.

  “Is incapacitated and therefore I have taken over. It’s a done deal. Paperwork and everything. Imagine that.” He let a smirk spread across his face.

  Of course, several people now wanted his father dead, but he supposed the man had dug his own grave. He’d protected him by also spreading the word he was wheelchair-bound and Carragh had him under strict surveillance. Anyone dared to do anything—to his father, him, or anyone he cared about—then the arrangements he’d made would go into motion. Tomas’ meticulous paperwork on his dealings with them would be released to the media, public officials, the FBI, and the Justice Department.

  It wasn’t the 1920s anymore—they may have had finesse in their killings but they didn’t have what today’s families had: a love for money and business that transcended the need for pure revenge. It would just be easier to let them all live.

  Nicole’s irritating voice cut his way. “You are a fool, Carragh MacKenna. Go on, fuck your slut—”

  “Nicole, come on.” Patrick grabbed ahold of Nicole’s arm. “Before I have to leash you.”

  “But—”

  “Now.” He jerked his head toward the doorway.

  It was a good thing he yanked her out of there because Carragh didn’t trust himself with the woman.

  Sean scratched the side of his chin, stared down at the floor, and let out a half-laugh. “Jesus, Carragh.” He raised his face and sliced his eyes toward Luna, who remained next to him. “For that.” He lifted his chin her way.

  He didn’t have any more patience for the guy. “You are on probation.”