CROW (Boston Underworld Book 1) (33 page)

“Go on,” he says. “That’s probably the best solution, Mack. Because I sure as hell don’t want to use it on you.”

My lip quivers, and my hand starts to shake. Jesus, I’m really losing the plot here. There was never any question about it, I can’t hurt him. I’ve done enough of that already.

I pull the knife away and throw it across the room with a sob, and Lachlan crushes me against his chest.

“Goddamn you, Mack. I knew I should have avoided ye.”

“I know,” I whisper back. “Why didn’t you?”

His eyes grow dark, and instinctively I know I’m not going to like the next words out of his mouth.

“I had no choice in the matter. The Russians wanted to trade you for their rat. They want ye dead.”

“What?” I choke out. “Why do they want me dead?”

“Think about it, Mack.”

I swallow down nine years of pain and guilt as I reach into his eyes and pull out the answers for myself.

“You were going to give me to them, weren’t you?”

Lachlan scrubs his hands over his face and looks away. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck I was going to do with ye, Mack. It doesn’t matter now though, does it?”

My hands fall away from his shirt as I nod. It would have hurt less if he had stabbed me.

“Do you know who killed my father?” I ask quietly.

“Aye.”

I force my eyes to his even though it’s the last place I want to look. “You have to tell me.”

“That I can’t do.”

“Because of your precious fucking syndicate?” I yell.

“No. Because I know how ye are, Mack.”

My lip wobbles as I try to make sense of his words. I know what he’s going to do. I know it in my gut already. So why does it matter if he tells me who killed my father?

“I’ll sort it out,” he says. “Ye have my word, Mack. The man who did your father will no longer walk this earth, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

I’m too choked up to speak, so I just nod. It isn’t good enough, but there’s too much happening right now for me to wrap my head around.

“Donovan knows,” he continues.

“How?” I ask.

“Said he remembers you from Southie. He knew you and Talia were mates, somehow. Connected the dots. I don’t know.”

“He didn’t grow up in Southie,” I argue. “And I don’t know him. That’s complete bullshit.”

Lachlan shrugs. Regardless how Donny found out is a moot point. The only thing that matters now is the aftermath.

“Ye should have come to me,” he says. “I’d have told you then I had nothing to do with Talia’s disappearance. Neither did any of the lads.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

His throat works, and he pulls back to look at me. “I do.”

I open my mouth, but it takes me a minute to get my voice to work. I’m afraid to hear what he has to say. “How?”

“She was spending her time at a different sort of club,” he says. “With one of the Russians.”

I look away because I already know in my gut what he means. He’s confirming what I’ve suspected all along. It was the Russian that she talked about. And now my time is up, and I’ll never know who he was.

My voice is hoarse when I speak again. “So what now?”

Lach remains quiet and solemn as he pulls out of me and tucks himself back into his pants.

“Now we get in my car and drive.”

***

The car is deceptively quiet for all of the loud thoughts hanging between us. We’re at odds. An ocean of lies tethering us together and tearing us apart.

When Lachlan said drive, I didn’t think he meant for hours. I don’t know where he’s going. I doubt he does either. I know he’s working up the courage to do it. It’s taking him a long time.

I accepted my fate the moment I climbed inside of his car. I know what he has to do, even if he can’t admit it himself. There’s no other way. This is the code he lives by. His loyalty lies with the syndicate, and I’m not stupid enough to think I can change that. I won’t let myself believe I can change that. It’s easier this way, knowing and accepting what he’s going to do. I won’t fight him.

It’s him or me.

That’s what I keep telling myself.

I’m trying to forget the fact that he was planning to hand me over to the Russians. That he knew all along he’d probably have to marry someone else and we couldn’t be together. He’s lied to me, and I to him. We can’t get past these things. There’s no overcoming them.

And what life do I have to go back to anyway? Talia’s gone. Scarlett is a lone wolf. I never realized how empty my life had really become until I had him in it. He did that to me. He said I wrecked him, but he completely destroyed me. Everything was fine when I was alone. When I didn’t have to feel or think or care about someone else. Sure I was sad and broken, but I was okay. Now, I’m anything but.

He made me want things I was never destined to have. He made me cry and say the words I never thought I’d say again. If my father were here, he’d tell me I was pathetic. That this was my own fault for being weak. And he’d be right. But there wasn’t any other option. I think I’d always been weak as far as Lachlan was concerned. He dissolved my armor with a single look. A touch. One command from his lips, and I was his. I’m a slave to this man. The power he holds over me is ridiculous. And now that I’m going to die, I can admit that freely.

I can’t keep myself from glancing over at him. Seeing his shadowed profile lit only by the light of the moon and the headlights of passing cars. I only get glimpses of him, and it’s never enough. Tiny flashes of the man I fell in love with, but wasn’t supposed to.

He’s hauntingly beautiful. Those eyes of his hold so many different memories between us. I wonder if he’ll look back on them when I’m gone, or if he’ll shut me out forever. That would hurt worse than anything. But what does it matter? I’ll be dead.

Someone else will be in his bed, feeling his body move inside of them. Feeling his warmth when he comes in right before dawn and pulls her against his chest. Wearing his shirts and smelling his cologne on the pillow beside her. I hate her already. I hate the bitch who gets to have those things with him so much I want to scream.

It isn’t fair. None of this is fair. But I won’t tell him that. I won’t beg. I’ll only ask one thing of him, even though my heart is breaking. I just need him to keep his promise about Scarlett. And maybe something else. Maybe he could find out what happened to Talia.

I know she’s probably gone, like I’ll be soon too. Maybe we’ll find each other again somehow in the next life.

Lachlan pulls over and turns off the car. When I glance out the window, I see that we’re on a side road, surrounded by nothing but forest. This is the place he’s chosen for me. I wonder if he’ll ever visit my gravesite.

“Get out.”

His words are sharp, but even still, he can’t hide the emotion that lies beneath. I want to believe that there’s another option. One where neither of us has to die. But this isn’t a game anymore. It’s as real as it’s ever been, and I’m just nowhere near as tough as I thought. I’m not ready to go, but I’m not selfish enough to let him die either.

I get out of the car. It’s cold, and I can see my breath in front of me, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll be very cold soon enough. I walk on wooden legs to stand before him. The headlights are still on, illuminating his figure against the inky blackness of the forest.

“Can I…” I reach up to touch his face. “Can I just have one more…”

“Shut up, Mack.”

His lips are on me, hot and savage, echoed by the movement of his hands. Whatever cold surrounds me, I no longer feel. I’m safe here in his arms, if only for a little while. They are warm and familiar and comforting to me. Really, I couldn’t think of a better way to go. I hope he holds me close like this when he does it. I don’t want to know it’s coming.

He yanks my dress up and rubs his palm between my legs. I’m still sore from earlier, but just this touch from him… the knowledge that he still wants me after everything… is enough to make me crave him desperately.

I don’t have to beg him. He’s got me flipped onto my back and pressed against the hood of his car in no time. I half laugh and half sob when he unzips his pants and I realize what he’s doing. He told me he’d fuck me on it. And now he is.

He pushes inside of me, harder than steel and so fucking big I feel like I’m being torn in two. I welcome it. This sweet brutality. I want it to go on forever. I claw at his back and kiss his neck and murmur things against his skin. Confessions, admissions, declarations. It drives him crazy.

“Say it again,” he tells me with each thrust.

I repeat whatever irrational thought goes through my head in the moment. I tell him I wanted to keep him. How I love the way he fucks me. How much he’s rubbed off onto me, and how goddamn beautiful he is. I talk about his accent, his ass, even his fighting skills. It’s all coming out in half pants and sobs.

“Have ye anything else to say?” he whispers in my ear. “Like ye did earlier?”

Tears are rolling down my face when I look up into his eyes and tell him.

“I love you.”

He thrusts harder.

“I love you,” I repeat.

Another hard thrust. He wants to hear it, and yet he’s punishing me for it.

“I fucking love you!” I scream. “I love you goddammit! You fucking asshole. I hate you for making me love you.”

He comes inside of me with a grunt and collapses on top of me. His fingers are still working my clit, and I’m sobbing when I come too.

“Just do it,” I plead. “Do it already. I can’t wait any more. I need you to do it.”

He’s staring down at me, his eyes filled with pain, but he isn’t moving. He’s inside of me. On top of me. Everywhere around me. This is pure torture now.

“Just fucking do it!” I scream.

He grabs me by the throat and slaps his other hand over my mouth. My body goes lax beneath him, and relief courses through my veins. But after a moment, I realize the pressure isn’t there, and I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

“Cop onto yourself, sweetheart,” he says.

And then he takes his hand off my mouth and replaces it with his lips. They’re soft and gentle and sweet and completely fucking sadistic to do this to me.

“Lachlan…”

“Shut up, Mack.”

He pulls out of me and zips himself back up. And then he helps me up off the hood of the car. I can’t even find the energy to ask what the hell he’s doing when he walks me back to the passenger side and deposits me onto the seat.

He gets in beside me, and then we’re driving again. In silence. Through the goddamn woods. Lach’s fingers are threaded through mine the entire time. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. What he’s doing. I don’t know what the fuck is going on.
I’m trying to silence the insane thoughts looping through my brain.

And then we pull up to a house. But not so much a house as a fortress in the middle of nowhere.

“What is this place?” I ask when he cuts the engine.

“Shut up, Mack.”

Again, he helps me out of the car. He leads me across the yard, pausing just before we get to the door.

“Alexei can’t hear properly,” he says. “Ye need to look at him when ye speak.”

I blink, and he squeezes my hand tighter.

“Don’t be obvious about it, Mack.”

That’s the end of the conversation, because a moment later, another man is opening the door.

“Franco.” Lachlan nods in greeting.

“Mr. Crow.”

“I need to speak with Alexei.”

The man opens the door wide and gestures us inside. “Of course, sir.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Mackenzie

W
e sit in a lounge area, waiting for this man named Alexei. I still have no idea what we’re doing here.

Lach’s got me pulled tight against his chest, his arm wrapped around me possessively while his fingers rub up and down my back. I feel his gaze on me, but I can’t look at him. There is too much uncertainty about what comes next, and I’m barely holding on by a thread. I fear that one look at him will unravel me completely.

Finally, the man in question enters the room.

The man who I presume to be Alexei doesn’t make a sound as he takes a seat across from us. He’s a large man, tall with broad shoulders and an athletic body. He’s also quite handsome, but there’s a haunting sadness about his face. Melancholy blue eyes snap to me before he fixes them on Lachlan.

He says something in Russian, to which Lachlan replies, shocking the hell out of me. After a moment of this back and forth, the room goes silent again. A housekeeper comes in and pours the men a drink and then asks me if I’d like one as well. I shake my head and thank her anyway.

Lach drinks the expensive Cognac slowly, but Alexei downs his in two gulps. And then pours himself another glass.

“Have ye sorted out your problem with Katya?” Lachlan asks.

Alexei’s only response is to take another shot. That’s why he looks so haunted. He’s heartbroken, obviously. If only he knew how much I could relate to him in this moment.

Is this how I’ll be if Lachlan decides to keep me alive? A shell of my former self with only alcohol as my companion. A shudder moves through me as I consider it.