Filthy Dark: A SECOND CHANCE/SECRET BABY, MAFIA ROMANCE (THE FIVE POINTS' MOB COLLECTION Book 3)

by Serena Akeroyd

  Because it killed me, my voice was gruff as I dismissed her and said, “Thank you for your condolences.”

  The words were nothing, trite, but my tone was clear, and she reacted like I’d shot her. Like my rejection was a killing blow.

  I didn’t look at her. Couldn’t. I had to protect her. Not just from me, but from Da, and from whatever fate rested in front of me. I’d been walking this path for so long that I’d thought I knew my options. But as it stood, I wished Deirdre was alive.

  She was the devil I preferred, and I’d acted in haste, but was now repenting in torment.

  AELA

  BEFORE

  Two months after Deirdre’s funeral

  I’d never understood just how true being sick to your stomach was.

  When you were pregnant, hormonal, weighed down with guilt, heartbroken, and terrified—those were emotions that made you truly sick to your stomach.

  Wanting to puke all the time and not because of morning sickness, I felt like I was a prisoner inside my own mind.

  I hadn’t seen Declan in weeks. He wouldn’t answer my calls, and he ignored my texts. On the rare occasions I had come across him, he’d ignored me, and when he looked through me like I meant nothing, it rammed home my place in his life.

  The side piece.

  I was tagged and bagged as such, and hoping for more got me nothing. Would never get me anything other than loaded down with a welter of baggage and heartache.

  I’d given up on him, I’d admit. It had been two months since the funeral. Two months for him to have gotten over Deirdre’s death. I knew that sounded horrible, but he didn’t love her. I knew he didn’t. He treated her terribly, but then…

  Wasn’t that how he was treating me?

  Had he already shown me his true colors and I’d never even noticed?

  I should have seen the signs in his behavior around her, but I’d been a fool. A stupid, naive fool.

  I saw that now.

  I was getting my just deserts. I’d betrayed my friend for him. I’d been a party to him cheating on her, and in the end, that was what had gotten her killed. Lizzie Bryan had told us in recess that Deirdre had confided in her, told her that she was sure Declan was screwing around on her, and she was going to follow him to learn, once and for all, if he was.

  That was why she’d died.

  She’d gotten involved with Points’ business, and had lost her life as a result.

  Her death was on me, on us… No wonder he felt horrible. I did too. I felt evil for having mistreated her that way even if we’d stopped being close friends a long time ago thanks to my growing a spine and refusing to listen to her wax poetical about Declan for hours on end.

  But even if he was a bastard, I had to tell him.

  I had to.

  I couldn’t not warn him. Could I?

  So here I was, outside Flanagan’s Bar, waiting for him to come outside.

  It had rained at some point, but I still stood here, under a too-flimsy umbrella, waiting on him to leave.

  It had been two hours by now, but it was worth it. I deserved the punishment. I deserved it for what we’d done to Deirdre.

  Tired, I rested against the streetlamp, then jerked because the second I did, the door opened and out he walked. He was with a few of his crew, and they were laughing and joking. Declan wasn’t.

  His face was grim.

  And it grew grimmer still when he saw me.

  His eyes narrowed, and he said something to his crew, and though they shot me curious looks, they went away, their steps clipping against the slick sidewalk as they left me with the man I’d believed was my soulmate.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded, and the scent of whiskey on his breath was so strong I almost stepped back.

  It was like a cloud around him.

  I’d never known him drink before. What on earth was going on with my sweet, loving Declan?

  I reached out to him, went to cup his cheek, but he jerked back like I’d tried to slap him.

  “No,” he ground out. “No!”

  Tears pricked my eyes, but I raised my chin. “What’s going on with you? Why won’t you answer my calls?”

  He hitched a shoulder. “You have no say in my life, Aela. I’ve had it up to here with people telling me what to do, how high to jump, how far to run. I’ll do what I want and I won’t be contained. Do you hear me?”

  He boomed the last words at me, and because I wasn’t used to him shouting at me, I jumped back, stumbling against the streetlamp in surprise.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I rasped, my fingers turning white as I clung to my umbrella.

  “Everything’s wrong with me,” he snapped. “Is there a point to this?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” He loomed over me. “Didn’t you get the message, Aela? When I ignored your hundredth call?”

  “No,” I breathed. “Apparently I didn’t.”

  He grunted. “Well, do you understand now?”

  “Yeah. I do.” I tipped my chin up. “I just wanted to reassure you that I’m not pregnant.”

  Something flared in his eyes. I knew what as well.

  The memory of that night.

  It triggered a wildfire that stormed inside him, but he clamped down on it so fiercely that it was like he was made of stone.

  “Good.”

  Then he walked off.

  Just walked away.

  Without looking back at me. Uncaring that I was wet. That I was standing here, my heart on the sidewalk in front of me.

  He left me.

  So, I knew I had no choice but to leave him. I wouldn’t be the noose around his neck like Mom was to Dad. I’d go away. Far away. I’d raise his baby like I wished I’d been raised. Normally. No crime, no violence. Just with love.

  Always with love.

  Because even though my baby’s parents had been torn apart by death and guilt, shame and lies, he’d been created in love. I’d spend the rest of my life making sure he or she knew it too.

  Sixteen

  Aela

  Now

  Impatience made it hard when the staff eyed my blue hair and my earrings like I was an alien who’d just crash-landed on Midland Private Academy’s private helipad.

  The liaison was kind enough, however, and didn’t seem to have a stick shoved up her butt as she showed us around. It was just the teachers in every class who stared at my hair that drove me crazy.

  Either Seamus didn’t notice or he didn’t care. His gaze was fixed on things that should probably interest me but didn’t. I was more bothered about their terrible art program, but he wasn’t an artistic kid even if I tried to drag it out of him to help him express himself better.

  He preferred boring things like science labs and large libraries, while I fully accepted that my priorities were unlike any other mother’s. I figured few parents were complaining about the lack of a kiln and were more worried about there only being five chemistry labs.

  I trudged along behind the pair of them, amused as they discussed things that told me they were on the same wavelength, and which confirmed my darling boy was a nerd.

  The school was my idea of hell, but he seemed to like it, and whenever he saw a bodyguard stationed outside a classroom, or inside, it caught his attention.

  I could almost see the mental chalkboard in his head scrawling, ‘child of important person standing at ten o’clock.’ He probably had a running tally, and I wasn’t averse to that. Anything to take his mind away from the fact he’d been on the football team back home and would have to try out again.

  Of course, ‘back home’ was relative.

  The tour took forever, and while I preferred his old school in Rhode Island, I wasn’t about to complain that he seemed to like this campus. Our talk this morning had put some things into perspective for him, even though I wasn’t particularly happy about Declan blurting out that I was richer than him.

  It was
n’t like I’d needed proof to know that Conor had hacked into my accounts.

  The lack of security on my finances put me on edge, but it was one of those things. Hackers could get anywhere they wanted. I just had to hope that they’d leave me alone. Unless Conor could put some kind of whacko trapdoor on my account alone, which I wasn’t sure Bank of America would be totally happy about. Or maybe Conor had done that already—I was family now, wasn’t I?

  We ended the tour with Shay seeming happier than I’d expected, especially since we were supposed to visit another two schools today. As we left Park Avenue and headed into the city, I prepared myself for a long tedious day, which was what I got. The other tours were just as boring, just as annoying with the reaction to my hair because I had to wonder if these people had ever even heard of Instagram, but Shay’s reaction just wasn’t as positive. Shame, too, because the second school had a better art program, and the third was closer to the penthouse.

  By the end of the final tour, I was ready to go home, and though I wasn’t comfortable driving through Manhattan anymore, I didn’t have to.

  We had two, count ‘em two, armed guards. George and Liam, although Liam would only be around when Shay was in class.

  They’d shown up about a half-hour after Declan had left, and the necessity set my nerves on edge even if it had confirmed something to Seamus that I didn’t particularly want confirming.

  He was like the kids in the schools he’d just been wandering through.

  He needed a guard.

  I wasn’t sure what was going through my kid’s mind, but I didn’t like it. I didn’t want him getting too cocky for his own good, too big for his britches as my grandma would have said, but toning things down wasn’t easy. One semester at the fancy school he liked cost more than a family home, and the penthouse wasn’t exactly slumming it.

  I’d managed to keep things on the down low before, but he’d been dragged into this world and was coming face to face with the truth of his status.

  At fourteen, that was enough to turn my great kid into an egomaniac, so I needed to make sure to bring him down a peg or two.

  All throughout the tour, I’d been planning what to do, and my solution was simple.

  Remind him of who he was.

  What he was.

  “Can you take us to the nearest KFC, please?”

  The guards, neither of whom I recognized, didn’t reply, nor did our driver, which made me wonder if we’d even be heading that way. Were their orders to take me home immediately? I wouldn’t argue, even if the constraints would wear on me quickly.

  The city had changed a lot since I was last here. Three or so years ago, I’d dared dash back for a gallery opening of old art school friends that I’d helped by holding an exhibition there, and had even had time to hold a workshop or two, but I’d sweated bullets each and every visit.

  In my line of work, avoiding NYC was a death knell, so I’d braved it and, miracle of miracles, hadn’t been caught.

  No, what had trapped me was the tag on my wrist.

  Thinking of Amaryllis, my student, who had come to me for help with her partner who’d been kidnapped, I wished we’d been close enough for me to call her, to find out how her partner was doing. But I barely knew her. Barely knew anyone in this life anymore.

  Well, except for Declan.

  The whirl of the city blurred by, and Seamus, who’d never visited, and who’d often complained and even had a tantrum or two over not being able to come with me on my infrequent trips, was in a stupor as he came to terms with his new home.

  In such a short span of time, everything had changed. In more ways than one. I’d gone from thinking that Dec would loathe me, to actually feeling like we might make something work. And I said ‘something’ because I’d never be the wife he probably thought he wanted.

  I’d take a back seat, not take center stage when the macho man act had to come out, but no way was I putting the brakes on my career. No way was I going to stop doing what I loved.

  Having figured out a path for myself with Seamus, I saw no reason why a boyfriend or husband would get in the way.

  At first, I thought we were being taken on a scenic route, and then when we eventually made it to Hell’s Kitchen, I realized what had happened.

  They’d taken us around and around in circles, driving from one part of the city to the other depending on whose territory we were in.

  Amazing how these things were coming back to me. Amazing how I’d forgotten that a city wasn’t just split into blocks and districts and neighborhoods, but into invisible lines that were ruled by no governing body that had been elected by the people and for the people.

  There were worlds within worlds here, cities within cities. It was a hard, cruel life, and I was envious of the people who weren’t touched by it. But, in the grand scheme of things, few weren’t touched.

  Protection money had to be paid if you owned a business or a restaurant. Drugs were dealt on street corners, bikers passed by on major arterial roads, protecting shipments that were under watch from the FBI. Most people would never come into contact with the Feds, but for us, it was a way of life.

  I reached up and fiddled with one of my earrings, and when a KFC came into sight, I didn’t even have the option of eating in. We went through the drive-thru.

  A little peeved at the lack of choice, even if it was for our security, we placed our orders, grabbed our food, and Seamus tucked in.

  It always amazed me how my big kid reverted to his younger self when fast food was on the table. He beamed a grin, the first for a few days, and I had to hold back a smile at the sight of the honey mustard sauce coating his lips like makeup.

  I didn’t bother cleaning him up—I wasn’t that kind of mom. He was only going to get dirty again, so I just let him enjoy his meal and questioned him about his choice of school.

  When I knew Midlands would suit him, and that it was what he really wanted for himself, I focused on the streets again, and wouldn’t you know it?

  Somehow, we’d ended up right outside my old home.

  Stuck at a red light, I leaned forward, and while I didn’t know the driver or the guards, I knew they’d know the answer to my question.

  “Do Mary and Kyle O’Neill still live there?”

  One of the men, George, had a wide smile and kind eyes, but he lived on his nerves, always fidgeting, which made his gun rattle against the holster and his belt buckle jiggle. The men wore expensive suits, which told me they weren’t just gofers—the lowest of the low—but high-ranking.

  In this world, a man guarded his treasures or they were taken from him.

  It was strange to think of myself that way, and with anyone else, I’d feel like an object. But Declan had a way about him, a way that made me feel cherished. These past weeks together had only confirmed that.

  “The O’Neills still live there, yeah,” George answered, and the driver, Jerry, an older guy with a watchful stare, scanned the road like we were in downtown Benghazi.

  “Can we stop, please?”

  George blinked and Jerry caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “Why, ma’am?”

  God, I hated being called ‘ma’am.’ I was in my early thirties, not ready to settle into my dotage.

  Gritting my teeth, I muttered, “They’re my parents, and I haven’t seen them in years.”

  What I didn’t say was that if my parents’ schedule hadn’t changed—which I highly doubted because it hadn’t altered an inch in the years of my childhood—then Dad would be tucked away in the pub with his cronies and Mom would be alone.

  I wanted to see her. It had been too long, not only between visits but for phone calls.

  When she’d helped get me to Ireland, she hadn’t exactly cast me out, but neither had she defended me, something she’d compounded by never visiting.

  As for Dad, I didn’t even know if he was aware I had a son, and if he did, I wasn’t sure if he would be interested. It wasn’t like he was the most fatherly of people.


  Of course, things might be different because Seamus was a boy.

  Goddammit.

  Two sets of grandparents who’d more than likely want him in the life…

  How was I going to keep him on the narrow path that, so far, had fired him up? Had made him get out of bed every morning to work hard, train hard, study hard?

  A little at a loss, I barely registered when the vehicle slowed, but as I became aware, I directed my kid to, “Stay here.”

  He arched a brow, but knew not to argue with me when I used that tone. Man, that made me sound like a hard ass, but there were some places I just didn’t want him to go.

  This was one of them.

  I had no idea of what welcome we’d get. No idea if I even wanted to be welcomed.

  Coming back home didn’t mean a family reunion was going to happen, but the least I could do was visit and see how things were. See if I wanted my kid under the same roof as my folks.

  Pursing my lips as George clambered out of the car, while Liam stayed put, I waited on him to open my door for me—this security situation was going to get wearing fast.

  As a young kid, the family had never been that important where we’d necessitated such things. We hadn’t even been put into lockdown on the Five Points’ secret compound until Dad had moved up the ranks some.

  George nodded at me, and I sensed he was grateful I wasn’t being a pain about this. Inwardly, I felt all the irritation, but it wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. There was no need for me to be a bitch about it.

  I peered up at the building, unsurprised to note it hadn’t changed much in my absence. That they were still here told me Dad had peaked, never getting another promotion, and I knew why too. He’d always had a bad temper, one that was exacerbated by the drink.

  Old fool.

  When I climbed up the steps to the front door, I hit the buzzer to the place that had once been my home and heard her voice. “Yes, who is it?”

  She sounded a little dazed—no change there either.

  With Dad focused on work and whiskey after the job ended every night, and Mom popping pills to stop herself from feeling anything at all, it was a wonder I’d managed to grow up and be pretty normal.