KILLIAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 2) (17 page)

Stacy

Mom had pancreatic cancer. She lay in a hospital bed the day Pops told her about it, an IV in her arm and a good forty pounds lighter than she’d been two weeks ago when they told us they were going out of town on vacation. They weren’t on vacation, though. They were getting second opinions.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

Pops didn’t say anything. He was staring at his hands, his face pale. “We wanted to be sure before we told you kids.”

“You’re sure?” Kevin asked. “There’s nothing they can do?”

“Nothing but make her comfortable. She doesn’t want the chemo and all the other stuff. She wants to just be with you kids until the end comes.”

“Is she in pain?”

They both looked at me, Pops’ eyes filled with tears, Kevin’s with grief.

“They’re making her as comfortable as they can,” Pops said again.

Kevin couldn’t handle it. He ran from the room. And I…I didn’t know what to do.

Then we went to see her. She was so frail…

“Finish school, Stacy,” she said to me as she held my hand, hers so small and frail, so cold, that my heart broke. “Go to college. Have a good life.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I can’t do it without you, Mom.”

“You can. You’re stronger than you think you are. And you have your brothers, especially Killian.”

Pain still ripped through my chest whenever I thought about it.

I hated that I missed those few weeks when we could have had our long talks, we could have discussed what came next. But she was so weak by the time Pops told us.

And now I was supposed to forgive him for that.

I went to his office because I knew that Cassidy wouldn’t be there to interrupt. He had a new assistant, a young woman with glasses, a severe ponytail, and no color in her cheeks. She was quiet, but her eyes suggested that if I kept him longer than the ten minutes she had allotted me, she might cut my head off.

Pops brought me a bottle of water as he joined me on the couch.

“This is a nice surprise.” He smiled as he sat back and regarded me. “How’s Killian?”

“Doing better. Doctor says he should be able to lose the cast on his ankle in another month.”

“That’s good. We could really use him back here at the office.”

“He’s getting a little stir crazy. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Good.”

I studied his face, noticing for the first time all the things that had changed in him in these last few years. There were new wrinkles beside his eyes, less hair on the crown of his head. His red hair was whiter than it’d been five years ago. But he was still Pops, still the man who stepped in where my drunk father had failed. He was still the man who played Santa Claus on Christmas morning, the man who watched proudly as I had my First Communion, the man who held my hand as I waited for my prom date to arrive.

“Are you happy?”

His eyebrows rose. “Am I? Yes, I am.”

“You’re happy with Cassidy and Brianna?”

“I’m happy that all my children are safe and sound. I’m happy that the business is doing well. I’m happy that my wife and daughter are safe in my home. And I’m happy that you and Killian are back in Boston.”

“Why didn’t you object to our marriage?”

He shrugged. “Because I knew that the only way I was going to be a part of your life was if I didn’t stand in the way of your happiness.” He studied me a moment. “Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all I want for my children.”

I touched my belly, thinking absently about how complicated having a child can make things.

“Stacy, I realize that keeping Abigail’s diagnosis from you seemed harsh. But it was what she wanted. She knew that the end would not be pleasant, and she wanted to keep you guys from it for as long as possible.”

I was beginning to see that. It would have been just like Mom to try to protect us until the very end.

I stood up and curled up on the loveseat beside him. I could remember coming here when I was kid, sitting next to him as he worked, pretending I was working too by drawing pictures or doing my homework. I wanted to be just like my dad when I grew up.

“I’m sorry, Pops. I never should have blamed you for everything.”

“Who else could you blame? Mom was gone.”

I nodded, tears suddenly filling my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He slipped his arm around me. “It’s okay, darling. You’re fine. We’re fine.”

“Thank you for being my dad.”

He groaned, tears coming into his eyes, too.

“I love you, Stacy. Nothing you can say or do will ever change that.”

I believed him. I believed that he loved me. I believed that he would always love me.

I was stupid, running away. Family was all that mattered.

Killian

Stacy came home late, long after I was already in bed. It was normally the other way around, but she was taking classes at Boston College now. This class had something to do with journalism and she often went out for coffee with her classmates afterward. She stripped and crawled into bed beside me, pressing the length of her body against me. She was almost five months pregnant now, her belly swollen and gorgeous. I loved it. She thought she looked lumpy and less than beautiful, but I did everything I could to prove to her that that wasn’t true.

She moved against me and began kissing my neck, her fingers moving slowly over my chest. She had my tats memorized now. She could find her favorites in the dark. I knew her touch like I knew the back of my hand. I pulled her close and pulled her lips up to mine.

We made love slowly, coming together with the familiarity of our nearly six month’s old marriage. She moaned as I entered her, moving her hips back against mine.

“I love you,” she whispered softly.

“Not as much as I love you.”

It was sappy and syrupy, the kind of thing I swore I would never say. But there are a lot of things that go flying out the window when you find the happiness you never thought you would find.

I pressed my hand to her belly as we moved, whispering more words that were almost too intimate to repeat. And then she cried out and I knew, knew that her body was responding to my touch in the most amazing way possible. And then I…it was always something of a surprise, this pleasure that ripped through my body.

We were curled up together afterward, my hand still against her belly when I felt this sudden little quiver.

“What is that?”

She laughed, leaning back against my shoulder. “That’s your son or daughter.”

“That’s the baby?”

“It is.”

I ran my hand slowly over her belly, waiting to feel it again. When it came, I laughed, unable to hold the excitement back.

“That’s the baby? How can something so small make such a big movement?”

“You should feel it from this side.”

“Wish I could.”

She leaned back against me and kissed my neck. “I know.”

“How long has he been doing this?”

“He?”

I smiled against her shoulder. “A man can hope, right?”

“Of course, but I didn’t know you wanted a boy.”

“A girl would be great, too. One who looks exactly like you.”

She pushed back against me, chuckling a little.

“You are a charmer.”

“How long has he been moving?”

“It started yesterday. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it would be strong enough for you to feel. I guess I was wrong.”

“He’s strong, this one.”

“Just like his father.”

***

I settled behind my desk, setting the phone in its cradle. Pops walked in—a surprise all in its own. He never came to my office when he could call me up to his. “Cassidy wants to buy something for the baby, but she doesn’t want to offend Stacy.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “What kind of something?”

“Furniture. Clothes. Blankets and stuff.”

“We don’t need much in the way of furniture. Stacy’s already bought everything she thinks we need.”

“Yeah?”

“But she might need help putting the nursery together. Do you think Cassidy would be interested in doing that?”

“Sure. She loves doing stuff like that.”

Stacy had forgiven Pops, but she was still struggling with Cassidy living in Mom’s house. I wasn’t sure how much she’d like having Cassidy doing something so motherly with her. But it was worth the chance.

“I’ll arrange it.”

Cassidy

“I should be doing this for you, you know.”

“Soon,” Brianna said as she finished adjusting my veil. “I just have to meet the guy.”

“You will.”

She stepped back and smiled, her eyes dancing with joy.

“You look absolutely amazing.”

I turned and studied myself in the mirror. The dress was barely down to my knees, an off-white that seemed more appropriate than the startling white dresses the shop had to offer for younger brides. But this one hugged my curves and made me look much fitter than I really was. And the veil made my dark halo of hair shine.

I did look good. I guess that’s what love does for you.

“He makes you happy. And all this flying around in private planes is pretty awesome.”

I laughed. “Then you like him?”

“Love him.”

I hugged her tight. “I’m sorry I never told you the truth.”

“You had to have known I’d figure it out myself eventually.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

I stepped back and studied my daughter. She was dressed in red, a color that shouldn’t have worked on her, but did. Her skin glowed, her face beginning to round out again after a few weeks of good food. She had nightmares at night sometimes. I would wake and hear her call out. I’d go to her, and we’d talk for a time, sometimes the rest of the night. But she rarely talked about what had happened to her while those men were holding her.

Just like I hadn’t told her what I’d done while they were holding me.

We hugged again, then she gestured to the hotel room door. “We should go.”

The car was waiting for us outside the casino. We held hands all the way to the small chapel. It was decorated with lilies and carnations, my favorite flowers. And Brian was waiting, four of his sons standing beside him, at the altar.

Brianna took my arm and slid it through her arm. She walked me down the aisle, a vision in her dress, a contrast to mine. There was a photographer and witnesses, but I only saw Brian. He watched us, a smile that was so big and beautiful that I couldn’t imagine anything better.

I was marrying the man I loved. Who could possibly ask for more than that?

It wasn’t a cheesy, awkward ceremony. It was very simple and perfect. The pastor was respectful, the witnesses kind. And our children, smiling as they watched us commit ourselves to one another for the rest of our lives.

It was more than I’d expected a Vegas wedding to be.

But I was pretty sure my mother was spinning in her grave.

“To happiness!” Brian lifted his glass, as we sat around a table at an Italian restaurant in the lobby of his casino. “May we all find the one person who makes us want to have a Vegas wedding.”

The boys laughed and Brianna made a face, but they all understood Brian’s sentiment. And when he kissed me, they all looked away, then, as if on cue, made faces and groaned.

“Yuck!”

I laughed. Brian threw ice at them from the wine bucket, crying, “Disrespect!”

But, all in all, it was a beautiful evening.

We were nearly done with our reception when Ian moved away from the table. I felt the tension come over Brian as he watched him go. I took his hand and squeezed it, trying to reassure him.

We’d all been on pins and needles these last few weeks. We had no idea when, or if, the men behind Brianna’s kidnapping would return to hurt us again. We couldn’t go to the police now, not after the fact. And there was likely nothing the police could do, anyway. And Jack had basically told Brian all of this was his problem, so he was unwilling to put his men on it. Ian did as much as he could with the camera the kidnappers left behind at the warehouse where they held me. But there wasn’t much on it.

All we could do was live our lives and hope it was over.

I looked at my daughter and hoped it was over.

“To Pops and Cassidy,” Kevin suddenly said, holding up his glass of wine. “May you find happiness in your future and forget the pain of your past.”

“Amen,” Brian said.

“May you spend your glory years together in bliss,” Sean added.

“May you always find warmth in your bed, not coldness,” Kyle said.

Brianna looked around, a little confused. But then she stood and held up her glass. “I guess this is an Irish thing. I’m not good with toasts.” He studied Brian and me. “May you always love each other—no matter what the future might bring.”

I inclined my head, touched by her words.

We tapped glasses and drank the last of the champagne as Ian came back to the table. There was tightness in his expression. I didn’t know him well. He came to the house a few times a week, but it was usually to take his father into another room and speak to him, sometimes for hours. But I could always tell by his expression when he had bad news.

“Not now,” Brian said as Ian approached him, also warned by the look on his face. But Ian ignored the admonition.

Ian whispered something in Brian’s ear that made his shoulders slump and the joy leave his face.

“Fuck,” he whispered softly under his breath.

“What?”

Everyone was watching the two of them now.

“Stacy’s fiancé,” Ian said, glancing at Brian. Brian simply nodded. Ian continued. “Stacy’s fiancé was killed this morning. It looks like a mugging gone wrong, but there are no details to be had just yet.”

An uneasy silence settled over the table.

It was clearly not over yet.