CROW (Boston Underworld Book 1) (20 page)

Mackenzie

N
ow that Lachlan and Ronan are gone, I’ve put two and two together. Ronan must be a lot higher on the totem pole than I originally expected. He had to go to the meeting tonight, and Lachlan wasn’t at all happy about leaving me in the hands of a new recruit. There was obvious worry on his face when he left. And also something else. Something that looked similar to fear. I brushed it off. Because there’s no way he could actually be worried about me, right?

Regardless, it doesn’t matter. Even as I sit here, nestled in the safety of the fortress he calls a house, I’m already scheming my betrayal.

Conor is young, probably close to me in age. His position within the organization basically consists of being Lachlan’s bitch and doing whatever he’s told. Which tonight, means babysitting me. If I’d thought escaping him was going to be easy, I was dead wrong. He’s been watching me like a hawk for the last hour, and still hasn’t moved, even to go to the bathroom. I have every right to think that Lachlan probably threatened him with murder if anything were to happen to me while he’s gone. Conor is on high alert, his eyes bulging out of his head at every little noise. Jesus, he’s making me uptight even just sitting here with him.

I thought about sneaking out the window, but after further inspecting the glass and realizing it was frigging bulletproof and that none of the windows actually opened, that was a lost cause. This entire house has a lot more security features than I thought at first glance. I guess Lachlan is well prepared for any event. Good for him, but not so much for me. So now here I sit, an hour away from the meeting time, still trying to come up with a plan.

There’s only one real solution. And it’s going to land me in some hot water with Lach and make me feel like a complete asshole. But what choice do I have? This is for Talia.

I walk into the kitchen and rummage through the cupboards under the guise of looking for food. I can still feel Conor’s eyes on me, and I know I’m going to have to make my performance convincing.

Humming a little tune, I open up one of the bottom cupboards. And then I scream. Full on bloody murder. Conor comes running in a second later with wild eyes as I back away and point a shaky finger at the cupboard.

“What is it?” he demands.

“There’s a s-s-spider,” I squeak while I bounce from foot to foot and flap my hands about. “A huge one. Ugh, they scare me. Please… get it out of here.”

He rolls his eyes and bends down to inspect the so called spider. That’s when I pounce. While he’s vulnerable, I slide my hand beneath his jaw until my arm’s wrapped around his neck. Gripping my bicep with my other hand, I squeeze and pull while I cup the back of his head with my other hand. He barely has time to panic or attempt to fight back before the blood supply is completely cut off. He’s untrained in this kind of combat, and my guess is his only defense is the gun on his hip. He doesn’t even have time to reach for it before he loses consciousness.

“That’s right, Conor,” I say softly. “Just go to sleep.”

When he’s limp in my arms, I drag him into the kitchen and prop him on a dining room chair. Thank God Lachlan didn’t buy cheap wood crap. I don’t have any rope, so I have to settle for using some sheets and other fabric, along with a roll of duct tape.

Once he’s secure and I know he won’t be going anywhere, I pause to feel the tiniest flicker of remorse.

“Sorry, buddy.” I pat him on the head. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

With one last glance, I grab my keys and jacket and head towards the door.

***

After stopping off at the motel to change into a sexy dress and heels, I’ve only got about ten minutes before the meeting is due to start. I opt for a cab instead of the T and make it to Slainte ten minutes late.

I don’t know how long these meetings generally carry on, but I’m hoping it’s for a while. When I get inside, I try to play it cool while I figure out where they’d be meeting. I know there’s a lower level, but I’ve never been down there before. After scoping the place out, I notice a cocktail waitress getting ready to take a shit ton of alcohol through a side door to the stairwell.

Seizing my opportunity, I race over and grab her by the arm.

“Hey.” I smile. “It’s Nikki, right?”

“Yeah?” she shrugs. “Do you mind, I gotta’ get downstairs.”

“Actually, I do,” I say. “I’m Lachlan’s girl, Mack.”

“Oh yeah.” She straightens and gives me a worried glance like I might rip her head off or something. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” I reassure her as I take the tray of drinks from her hands. “But Niall wants me to run drinks tonight. Sensitive ears and all of that.”

She chews on her lip for a moment before she nods. I smile in response. I honestly expected it to be a lot harder than that. Apparently belonging to Lachlan does have its advantages.

Nikki walks away and I quickly bolt through the door, stealing myself with a breath as I tiptoe down the stairs and through the hallway. It’s dark and more than a little bit scary down here. While the upstairs is all class and modernly furnished, this part of the building looks like it was gutted and left bare bones. Exposed brick walls line the hallway, making the room feel chillier than it probably is as I creep down the corridor.

There are quite a few rooms down here, but most of the doors I pass are locked. If I had more time, I’d pick them to see what they’re hiding, but I don’t. I need to get to the room at the end of the hall, where the door is propped open and light is spilling onto the concrete floor. The low murmurs inside let me know the meeting has already convened, and when I get close enough, I pause for a moment to listen in.

“There’s a fucking rat in our midst,” someone spits. “A goddamn lying, thieving, low-life fucking rat!”

Shit. Whoever that is sounds pissed.

“Are we sure?” another voice asks. “Maybe they just got lucky.”

A snort. “Are you frigging kidding me with this? They planned this shit down to the T. There ain’t no fucking way they didn’t know what was happening. They went straight for the safe.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” another man says. “Has everyone at the club been vetted?”

This time it’s Lachlan’s voice that responds. “Aye. The employees don’t know any details about the drop. It’d have to be one of our own to give the combination.”

“Now wait just a minute,” a slimy voice responds. One that I recognize as Donovan. “What about your little dancer girl?”

“What dancer girl?”

There’s an uncomfortable pause of silence, and the tray in my hands trembles with my nerves. I can just imagine what Lach’s thinking right now. This can’t be good for me.

“I vetted her myself, Donny,” Lachlan responds in a deadly tone. “Do I need to say it again?”

“All I’m saying is the girl pops up at the fights and the Russians were eyeing her off like a bad piece of meat. Next thing you know she’s working in the club and warming your bed, and then we’ve got the Armenians busting down our doors. Seems like an awful lot of coincidences to me.”

“Need I remind ye that the Armenians tried to kill her?” Lachlan says. “And whether or not she warms my bed is none of your concern. She knows to keep her gob shut. Probably why half the lads don’t know she’s the one who handed your arse to ye at the fights.”

There are some low chuckles and more murmurs before someone makes a loud noise. “Enough.”

The room goes silent, and I have no doubt about who’s speaking now. Niall.

“If Lachlan says she’s vetted, she’s vetted. He knows what’s at stake here.”

My arms are shaking now, threatening to collapse beneath the weight of the tray. I knew it before, but hearing the words now cement it. The threat in Niall’s voice is clear. What I’m doing might very well get Lachlan killed. Just because he’s loyal to Niall doesn’t mean anything. In the mafia, if you screw up you’re dead. For a brief moment, I consider turning around and walking back up the stairs. Finding another way to get the information I need. But then the door upstairs opens, followed by footsteps.

Shit.

My eyes dart around, and there’s nothing around me but closed doors. I’m boxed in and I have no choice.

With a deep breath, I stride into the room, keeping my head down as I start passing out drinks like it’s exactly what I came to do. I can’t meet Lachlan’s eyes, but I can feel them burning into me as I make my way around the table. The man who was behind me walks into the room and takes a seat, none the wiser that I was just outside the door listening in.

When I get to Lachlan, he grabs my wrist in a bruising grip. I glance down at him and bite the inside of my cheek, sensing that the simmering rage in his eyes isn’t going to bode well for me later on.

“Who’s this?” the man beside him asks.

I glance over, and right away I know it’s Sean MacKenna. I haven’t seen him around the VIP area, but I know he’s Niall’s son, and next in line for the throne. Almost a carbon copy of his father, he’s nowhere near as handsome as Lachlan. His eyes are flat and brown, his hair much of the same. There’s not a single remarkable feature that stands out, or anything charming about him really. And yet he eye fucks me like he has every right to.

My gaze swings back to Lach, and the vein in his neck is throbbing furiously. My own chest is heaving with the swell of anxiety. I want nothing more than to run from the room, but I can’t. Almost as if he’s testing me, Lachlan let’s go of my wrist to see what I’ll do.

I walk to Sean’s right and set a drink down for him, only to have him jerk the tray away and pull me into his lap. All I want to do is elbow him in the face. He’d deserve it. But I have to remember why I’m doing this. I have to eliminate any potential suspects. Playing the role I’ve chosen, I let out an obnoxious giggle and act as though I’m flattered by his attention. In actuality, the disgust is rolling off of me in waves.

“She’d do for a running around the house,” Sean says to the room.

Some of the men bust up in laughter, but when I glance at Lachlan, the hurt and rage is clear on his face. Even Ronan is scowling at me in disapproval, and I hate myself at this moment. I don’t want to hurt Lachlan. If this was a test, I just failed miserably. I’ve embarrassed him in front of all of his men, and worst of all his rival.

It’s on me to tell Sean to back off, and I’m not saying anything because I’m paralyzed with too many emotions to count. The need to find information for Talia. The fear inside my chest. The feelings I have for Lachlan. Feelings I still don’t fully understand.

“Let her go, Sean,” Niall orders.

His lips flatten and the room goes dead quiet as I stand on shaky legs. Niall’s dark gaze is directly on me, appraising.

“Ye’re the one under Lachlan’s protection?”

My eyes dart to Lach, but he’s no longer looking at me. His neck is corded, his forearm muscles taut as he clenches his hands together on the table.

“Yes,” I squeak.

“Do ye think ye deserve such a kindness?” Niall asks.

I stare at him in disbelief. He’s looking at me like I’m a piece of trash, but really, can I blame him? I was just acting like a complete fricken’ airhead in Sean’s lap. Sean may be his son, but it’s clear that Niall isn’t giving him any free passes. I’ve disrespected Lachlan, and there’s going to be hell to pay later.

“I don’t know.”

My eyes find Lachlan again. A small part of me wants to fling myself in his lap and tell him I didn’t mean to do it. That I’m confused and that none of this makes any sense. That’s the crazy part of me talking. The good part of me that I’ve had to squash down and keep locked up tight all these years. That person has no part in my life. That’s what my dad would tell me. But what did being strong ever get him?

“Ye best give that some thought,” Niall says in warning. “There’s no room for weak links in this outfit. Or any other for that matter.”

I nod in shame as all of their eyes fall on me. Jesus, this has got to be the stupidest thing I could have done. Instead of getting on their good side, I’ve drawn more suspicion. Of course they are going to be protective of Lachlan. But Sean is Niall’s son, and I honestly expected him to have a little more sway. I figured he probably touched any of the girls whenever he wants to. That’s how Sasha makes it sound, but the longer I spend here, the more I’m seeing that’s not the case.

“We have business to tend to,” Niall says. “Leave now. Donny, go and shut the door behind her.”

I do as he says without a glance back. Donovan follows me up the stairs, and when we get to the top, he grips me by the arms and wheels me around. I gasp when I see his broken nose and fat lip, wondering how I didn’t notice them before.

“You stupid fucking cunt,” he hisses. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

Inwardly, his words have the intended effect. They send my paranoia sky high. All of my red flags are going off, but I don’t show it.

“What’s your deal?” I wrench my arm back.

He cocks his head to the side, his eyes wandering over me.

“Who I put my dick in is not your concern.” He leans into my space and his pupils grow even larger. “Until your turn comes around.”

The pleasure on his face as he says this scares the shit out of me. I thought I’d seen evil before, but looking at Donovan now, I know that isn’t true. And knowing how often he corners Sasha, it bothers me even more.

“What’s your problem?” I try to pull away from him. “Lachlan would murder you if he knew…”

He slams me up against the door and smiles. “Lachlan doesn’t give a shit about you. You’re just the flavor of the week. And when he’s done with you, I’m going to make you wish you were dead.”

Before I can even wrap my thoughts around his threat, he shoves me through the door and locks it behind me. Tears blur my vision as I walk back through the club. I don’t know what I’m doing.
I can’t trust my instincts anymore. I'm drowning under the weight of feelings I didn’t expect. Feelings I have no right to. The lines are so blurred I don't know what’s real or fake anymore.

When I get to the front door, the bouncer steps in the way and crosses his arms across his burly chest.