Carragh’s limbs filled with concrete. “What do you mean?”
Tomas’ watery eyes gazed up at him. “You know.”
His brain shut off for a second. That had to be the only reason why he couldn’t think. His mother saved this man’s life?
Luna was by him again in a second. He squeezed her hand and took a long breath.
“Who did it?” he gritted out.
“Why? Want to avenge her?” His father waved his hand. “Buried him long ago.”
Shit. He scrubbed his forehead. Of course, his father had. That was his way. Take down anyone who got in the way. But then his mother… got in the way. To save this man he now stared down at? Broken, moral-less, and beyond repair?
“No more burials.” His chest was so tight it was hard to get out the words, but he had to. The killings had to stop. He thought he had ended his father’s way of life—starting with the overthrow of the business. Would it ever be enough?
“Yes.” His father managed to get out with some effort. “Family. Sacred.” He thumped his chest with his fist.
The man’s ego, just like his decline was unstoppable. In fact, he barely spoke anymore, but, Jesus, these were the words that came out of him today?
Carragh glanced up at the angel he’d stared at every Sunday for years—fucking years.
Luna suddenly knelt in the grass, her head bowed, and her lips moved as if in prayer.
His father harrumphed. “Yes, respect.” As if he knew the definition of the concept?
Then the answer came so clearly. What would his mother want? She’d want Carragh to live, to love, to have a family of his own. That’s all she’d ever wanted.
He turned to his father. He needed more from the man. There was one final piece of his future that only Tomas Mackenna could give him.
Carragh stared hard at his father. “Now you show some respect. Say it.”
He chuffed. “Say what?”
Carragh stood there, waited. He’d been waiting his whole life for this day so what were a few more minutes?
His father clasped his hands together and stared down at the ground. He finally raised his heavy lids to him. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“No more wishing.”
Someone cleared his throat behind him. He’d heard the footsteps and thought it might be Petra. When he turned, he faced Declan—and Phoenix, and Starr, who held her little baby girl.
He sucked in a long breath. Huh. Back-up. That’s what this was—maybe just for Luna, but perhaps… Nah, it was a little early to dream of her sisters taking him in with open arms. For now, they treated him like a distant uncle. Cordially, and with a modicum of respect. It was enough for now.
Declan raised his chin. Phoenix’s face was still, but at least she didn’t glare at him, which was real progress.
Carragh had fulfilled his promise of rebuilding Shakedown even if he hadn’t poured the gasoline and lit the match that took it down. Declan lost his precious antiques that he’d been selling off to keep the place going. Thank God for fire insurance, though how do you put a price on sentimentality?
After donating his warehouse down the street for the new club, he’d ordered Sean to work construction. The man wanted to be muscle, let him. It gave Carragh a smug satisfaction to know the man took to it—ordering workers about, looking contrite but oddly happy in a way.
Starr lifted her baby’s arm and waved once. Baby Phoebe’s face was as still as the angel’s face on his mother’s marker. Man, had he ever slept that soundly?
He glared down at his father once more, the man who’d been responsible for most of his sleepless nights. “You know what I want. My family.”
His father sucked air between his teeth and let it out. “The family is yours.”
Luna’s profile showed a sly smile forming, though her eyes remained closed, her head bent. She made the sign of the cross.
Carragh inclined his head, then rounded to his father’s side and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. It was more than he deserved, but being surrounded by people who once hated him but now were beginning to warm to his presence, a sliver of charity rose in his heart.
Luna pushed herself to standing and smiled at the crowd behind him. She then mouthed I love you to him. She joined him, slipped her hand in his, and they resumed their silent vigil in front of the angel.
Starr’s little girl cooed in the background, and her hushed whispers to the child floated in the air. The wind picked up and blew some stray leaves around the concrete and granite markers lined up like mismatched soldiers. They should go but he couldn’t make himself move.
He sent up a little prayer, thanking whoever looked down on them for letting him live to see this moment, to have won the heart of a good woman, to have finally claimed his own destiny—not the one handed down to him.
Someday, his life would be over. Someday, everyone around him would be like these deceased souls lying underground, too. But not for a while—he’d make sure of it.
His father would likely die of natural causes. The man didn’t deserve it.
But Carragh would make sure that was how he was going to go out as well—and his children. Little boys and girls with eyes like Luna’s, their mother’s, as blue and free as an open sea.
Epilogue
“You know Cherry is going to be pissed she wasn’t invited.” Phee cocked her foot, stared at its reflection in the small mirror. A dozen show boxes lay open, tissue paper crinkled over the sides.
Any day that involved shoe shopping was a good day.
“I’m getting her those cowboy boots over there.” Luna pointed at the turquoise special edition boots.
She then stood and teetered on the four-inch red sparkle heels. “And some things sisters need to do for themselves.”
“Yeah, like talk each other into every pair they want. I can’t wait until Nathan catches me in something that doesn’t have baby spit on it.” Starr groaned. “How do they look?” The soft pink sandals with little rosettes lining the straps were gorgeous.
“Like someone might call child protective services if you wear them holding Phoebe for fear of harming the baby.”
She laughed at Phee’s assessment. Funny how “child protective services” didn’t elicit any bad feelings from them anymore.
“Okay, that settles it. I need them. And you need those red ones, L.”
“Like I need a fourth pair of red? No, I’m getting the black with silver sequin straps. Classier.”
“Well, la-di-da over there.” Phee cocked her head. “Now that you live in Roland Park.”
“We’re thinking of moving.” She lifted the heel to see its construction. She and Carragh had a fundraiser to attend that night for the Mental Wellness Association of Maryland.
“What?” Starr and Phee asked in unison.
“To one street over,” she emphasized. “We need a bigger house.”
Phee made a pffft sound. “Like that huge monstrosity isn’t big enough already?”
Their new house wasn’t that big. His father’s home a street over was larger, not that she’d seen much of it. Her super-possessive husband refused to let her visit his father, who was under 24-hour nursing care now. Carragh had wanted to stay close. “To keep an eye on him,” he’d said.
“Why on earth would you need something more to clean?” Starr rolled her eyes.
Luna put the top on the box of black sandals and rose. “We need room for the twins.” She smiled at her sisters and patted her belly. “Nine weeks.”
Loud squealing ensued, which nearly had her heart happily bursting its blood vessels. Bingo. Just the reaction she wanted.
“Keeping it from you has been killing me,” she called into the fray.
Phee pulled her into a huge hug and Starr jumped up and down and clapped—which was amazing given she was still in the four-inch sandals.
Thank God they were excited. It hadn’t been easy for them to accept Luna was Mrs. Carragh MacKenna. He’d offered for her to keep
her maiden name as an olive branch. No way.
Carragh had turned the family around—or was almost there—and she’d wanted in on the action.
Every night at dinner, before she had to head to the new Shakedown for her one or two acts—she couldn’t give up dancing just yet—he’d talk to her, fill her in on his day.
On her off nights, they often went to events and fundraisers, and sometimes back to that little speakeasy where he’d bared his soul to her that first time. He’d ask for her input, and she gave it. He didn’t always take her ideas, but the fact he listened to her at all? She didn’t think she could love him any more, but every day she did.
She was his person. And while no one would ever replace her sisters, he was hers.
Luna fingered her mother’s locket, which she always kept on a long chain around her neck. No one should be completely forgotten. “So, I’m thinking you both could be godparents, like one for each.”
Phee’s eyes misted. “I’d love that.” She and Declan would never have children by choice, but given the way she’d taken to all the babies she insisted everyone brought to her mothers-only dance classes, she’d make a wonderful godmother.
Starr huffed a happy breath. “Well, that does it. We’re going to Bloom and Blossom Babies next.”
Luna clasped her hands together. “I really had hoped you’d say that. Their winter collection came in—”
“You’re on their speed dial aren’t you?” Phee laughed.
“No. Maybe.”
A pause filled the room as they stood there in a triangle, holding hands without even trying. Their hands just reached for each other. She was so lucky. She’d always had her sisters, and they had her. A niggling sadness threatened her happiness that Carragh didn’t grow up with such champions—only promised rewards if he did what he was told. Well, he had the O’Malley sisters as his backup now.
“Is it possible?” Phee whispered. She didn’t even have to finish her question.
Starr smiled. “It’s odd, isn’t it? Like we’ve arrived or reached a place or…” Her eyes got dreamy in thought as if searching for the answer.
“We’re home,” Luna finished. “Family forever. Friends always.”
“Amen,” Starr and Luna said in unison.
They did go to Bloom and Blossoms next, and after Phee and Starr bought more clothes at the baby store—really, they put her to shame in the purchasing department—they parted to go to their respective men.
Starr’s laughter filtered down the street as she hugged Phee one more time. Phee climbed into her vintage VW, and Starr tripped merrily to her car.
Luna paused for a second. Her heart didn’t skip a beat at seeing them go three separate ways. How long had it been since that happened?
Phee waved as her car rumbled by, and Starr tooted her horn as she did a U-turn in the street to head in the opposite direction. Luna would see them tomorrow—and every day after that. There were dance classes to teach and attend. Shows to put on. Babies to love.
And they’d do it all together because no one on God’s green earth could tear the O’Malley-now-Baldwin-Phillips-MacKenna sisters apart. Not ever again.
Oh, and Luna got that dragon tattoo—right over her heart.
Thank you for reading the Shakedown Series. I hope you enjoyed Luna and Carragh’s journey. Missed the other Shakedown books, Tough Luck or Tough Break? Access them here and here.
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Also by Elizabeth SaFleur
Elite
Holiday Ties
Untouchable
Perfect
Riptide
Lucky
Fearless
Invincible
The White House Gets A Spanking
Spanking the Senator
Tough Road
Tough Luck
Tough Break
Tough Love
About the Author
Elizabeth SaFleur writes award-winning romance that dares to “go there” from 28 wildlife-filled acres, which she shares with her husband and one very spoiled Westie. When not immersed in books she can be found dancing or drinking good Virginia wine—not necessarily in that order.
You can find out more out her here, add her books to Goodreads’ lists, and sign up for her newsletter.
Tough Love (The Shakedown Series Book 3) Page 19