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

by Serena Akeroyd

  Anyone who was anyone knew about the Midlands’ reputation. It was going to make his name, cement his ties. It would be better if he’d attended from a younger age, but four years was enough to make a good impression, and he was used to being around new people, used to having to make friends.

  He’d do his damnedest to fit in because he had a pet project—world domination—but until that happened, he had to adapt to an antiquated uniform.

  I cleared my throat as I served myself too, then drizzled maple syrup over my small stack.

  Fiddling with my earrings, I asked, “You sure you’re going to be okay driving with Liam?”

  Seamus scowled at me. “I’m not four, Mom.”

  I hated that he was growing up, even if it was just how the world worked. The first day of his Rhode Island school had involved me driving him there, picking him up, and then heading for a snack afterward.

  Over the local coffee milkshake, something called a ‘coffee cabinet’ that I was actually starting to miss, he’d told me about his day, and we’d talked strategy—the kids to avoid, who to befriend.

  Maybe it was the Five Pointer in me, but that was how I approached every scenario. Anyone who wasn’t in the life had to be viewed clinically until their stance could be judged. Their weaknesses dissected and their strengths calculated.

  I’d passed that onto my kid. For his own safety.

  We had traitors in the Five Points, not many, but a few—and they never lived long to tell the tale afterward. That was what I’d taught my son. You didn’t rat, you didn’t let yourself get backed into a corner. You stood strong, stayed close to your friends once you made them, and didn’t trust them at first until they proved themselves.

  Of course, I’d befriended Caro… so maybe my judgment wasn’t up to much?

  “I know you’re not four,” I murmured, as I worried over how well he’d do today… like he was four. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “You’d feel pretty crappy if she didn’t give a shit though, wouldn’t you?” Declan inserted smoothly, his eyes lifting from his breakfast to glance at Seamus who scowled at him.

  “Mom always gives a—”

  “Careful,” I teased. “Can’t be swearing at that fancy ass school.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Mom always cares.”

  “Yeah, and aren’t you lucky she does?” Declan pointed out, making me smile inwardly.

  He was a clever one. I liked that. I liked that he made Seamus see how fortunate he was without me having to do a damn thing. It wasn’t that I wanted my kid to be grateful, because ever since he’d hit his teenage years, that was as hard as asking him to find world peace amid the laundry that collected on his bedroom floor.

  But it brought perspective, and I was all for that.

  I had high hopes for my son. Not because I needed him to be a politician or a lawyer or someone that mattered in the world. But because he wanted that. He was too bright a spark to just waste, and sometimes, when I looked at him, he gave me hope.

  The future was dark. When I looked at him? He was a lightbulb that fizzled in and out, giving me a promise that things would get better if there were enough kids out there like him who cared.

  “Yeah,” Seamus admitted sheepishly. “I’m lucky.”

  Declan hummed. “My ma didn’t ask if I was okay to go to school with my guard.”

  Shay frowned. “Why didn’t she? Didn’t she care?”

  Lena and Aidan were the strangest parents in the world. Everyone knew how they felt about their sons. They’d kill for them. They’d break bones to make sure they were safe. But that wasn’t my idea of love.

  “She cared,” Declan murmured, “but they wanted me to be strong. They wanted me to be independent.”

  “Can’t exactly be independent at twelve,” I interjected softly, knowing that was the age he’d been tossed into the shark pool.

  He shrugged. “Nope.” His smile was rueful.

  Seamus didn’t understand the time reference—why would he?

  Peering between us, he heaved another sigh. “Okay, Mom, you can take me to school.”

  I snorted because he sounded so long-suffering that I joked, “Oh, you’ll let me grace you with my presence, huh?”

  Sure, I wanted to bone his dad like I’d just taken some Viagra, but these days were impossible to replace.

  When he grinned at me, the cheeky little monkey, it was like he was five again. “Yep, I’ll let you.”

  But his shoulders weren’t hunched, and he wasn’t scowling at his breakfast.

  I had to sigh.

  He’d wanted me to be there. But he thought he was too old for it.

  I gulped.

  This was down to Declan.

  I shot him a grateful look, and his lips quirked at the corner, even as warmth filled his eyes.

  Goddamn, he was so getting lucky today. Something he registered, because he gritted his teeth and focused on his breakfast, but not before I saw the banked inferno that flickered between us like someone had just set fire to all the goddamn paper walls in the penthouse.

  Of course, two hours later, one kid dropped off at school, and a pussy just dying for Dec’s dick, I wanted to scream when I walked inside and found the place empty.

  What the hell?

  Where was he?

  I looked in all the rooms, trying to see if I could find him before I gave up, registering that he’d been called into work.

  I’d saved the kitchen until last because he wasn’t the kind of guy to sit there without someone else in it. The kitchen was his mother’s place, so it figured he’d associate that with her, with women, and not necessarily with comfort. Especially if it was empty.

  But when I found the box on the table, I frowned at it and wariness hit me. It was regular cardboard.

  Faintly beige, faintly brown. The corrugated kind.

  I licked my lips, recognizing how messed up it was that I found myself checking the base for fluids…

  When I registered it was dry, bone dry, I headed toward the table where it was located. Sucking in a breath, I jerked the lid off, almost dreading what I’d find, then I sagged, hands flopping onto the table when I recognized what it was.

  A Kevlar vest.

  There was a note pinned to it too.

  Wear it if you go out. I have one for Seamus as well. They only just arrived.

  Da called. I have to go out, but I’ll be back before Shay gets home from school.

  There’s a present for you in my bedroom. I’ll give it to you later.

  Dec

  It was short and sweet, everything he wasn’t.

  I plucked my bottom lip, wondering what the gift was and why he hadn’t left it here now. Better that than thinking of the fact I had an addition to my wardrobe—a bulletproof vest.

  Shit like this was a reminder of the anonymity I’d left behind.

  The threat was high if they were making the women and kids wear Kevlar, and I was surprised we weren’t being shoved into lockdown if that was the case.

  I rubbed a hand over my face as I slumped in the chair that I’d taken to sitting in. Funny how routines grew. I sat facing the view, Declan sat to the side, and Seamus faced us both. We took those seats every day, and not one of us had mentioned it before. We just did it.

  That was what family did, didn’t it?

  Like, with couples, one of you just always took the left side of the bed in a motel/hotel. One of you tended to have the remote, and one of you always knew where everything was in the house…

  I’d never had that. It just wasn’t in me to want much from a guy, not when I knew what the real thing was. So to suddenly be experiencing all this was very strange.

  And to be doing so with Declan… well, I couldn’t say it made the Kevlar worth it, but neither did it make me want to run for the hills.

  I’d missed him.

  More than I’d even realized.

  Which was dumb, I knew, but I’d been too busy to really
think about it. Raising a kid, forming a career, making a name for myself, it took time and energy. That didn’t take into account the rather nomadic lifestyle I’d forced on us since Seamus was a toddler.

  I didn’t like to think back to that point, when my grandfather had tried to shotgun me into marrying a local boy whose boots he’d thought I should lick in gratitude because he was willing to ‘take Seamus on’.

  I’d had needs. I’d enjoyed the men I’d screwed. But marriage? If that ever happened, it was for Declan.

  Beyond stupid, I knew, and even more than that, irrational.

  But who said a woman always had to make sense, huh?

  I dragged the Kevlar out of the box, stared at the paradox that was the slimline bulkiness, and winced at the weight of it in my arms.

  Because this was the first morning I had to myself, where the penthouse was empty, where I had time on my hands, I knew what I was going to do.

  Shopping.

  I hated it, but when it involved getting art supplies, it gave me a lady boner.

  Though I hadn’t dressed up for dropping Shay off at school, I’d worn a nice skirt and shirt with no rips and no skin showing. I’d felt like Mrs. Goddamn Brady, but I didn’t want him to be ashamed of me, and I knew the blue in my hair would be gone soon because Midland moms wore pearls, and didn’t have jewel-colored hair and tattoos.

  The tat I couldn’t do shit about. The hair was manageable.

  Grunting at the thought, I unbuttoned my shirt, dumped it on the table, then reached for the vest.

  It was deceptive. Looking at it, I knew Dec had just dropped a fortune on us, which made me feel oddly warm inside. The Kevlar represented so much; his affection, his caring. As much as I hated it after I slipped it on and tied myself in, it made me feel good for that reason alone.

  It was custom, I realized, as lightweight as these things could be, and had thin straps, and knowing that I mattered to him enough to go to the time and effort of buying something like that made it more than worth having to wear it.

  Redressing in my shirt, I winced as it pulled a little tighter now, and because the bulletproof ‘cami’ ran so high up the chest, it looked like a bulky undershirt.

  Still, there wasn’t much I could do.

  Dressed appropriately for my current situation, wondering how Dec had managed to get a custom Kevlar vest for me in such a short space of time, I headed on out.

  I was about to go shopping Pretty Woman style, except I’d be buying things that fed my soul and not the capitalist machine.

  And I couldn’t fucking wait.

  DECLAN

  “What did he want to talk to you about?”

  I gave Brennan the side-eye. “Caroline Dunbar.”

  Bren grunted. “Fucking bitch.”

  She was that. One hundred percent.

  Always in our business, always sniffing around. Didn’t stop me from feeling guilty when I thought about why she was on this goddamn crusade of hers.

  Bren, like always, was a mind reader. “Not your fault her father was a fucking snitch.”

  I winced, hating to think back to that night.

  I might have been inducted into the life at twelve, but Da had let me wait until I was eighteen to make my first kill. That he’d waited so long and had made me do that when I could be tried as an adult had always been proof of what Jimmy D had snitched over.

  I’d never known how bad the dumbfuck’s betrayal had been, but that Da got me involved was clue enough.

  “Never liked killing,” was all I said.

  “Think I do?” Brennan arched a brow as he pulled up at a red light.

  We were driving back from Da’s compound after another impromptu meeting. Last time it had been about Shay, about what role he could play in the Five Points, about Ma wanting to meet him, and Da wanting me to make that happen. As a result of that conversation, we hadn’t spoken since, because he wanted me to essentially Shanghai Aela, not take her wishes into consideration at all. What he didn’t seem to understand was that they weren’t just her wishes.

  I loved my parents but they had a way of doing things that was decidedly not of this Millennium, but the last.

  Still, when the old man summoned, we drifted to his door, and like he’d thought I might not comply, Brennan had shown up at my penthouse to give me a ride.

  Like I couldn’t drive my fucking self.

  “Why do we put up with this crap?” I muttered. “Dealing with Da, letting him treat us like we’re soldiers first, sons second?”

  “It’s all we know.” He twisted his wrist, the one that was weak, that popped with the move. The one he kept on breaking because Da had used that as his ‘punishment wrist’.

  I’d seen the way Da did that and had learned my lesson. Eoghan had as well.

  Brennan had been a lot more of a rebel than he’d ever let on.

  He toed the line to a certain extent, that was why news of him getting engaged soon came as a surprise. He tended to do what Da wanted. Not in a way that made me think he was a brown-noser, because if he was that, I wouldn’t like him so fucking much.

  Brennan had changed for real after Ma had been targeted by our enemies, and ever since, he’d toned things down. Turned a lot more serious.

  Couldn’t blame him.

  “That’s no reason to stick with it,” I grumbled.

  “No. It isn’t. But we love the family. We just don’t like the life. Even if the life is all we know…” He broke off, his gaze focused on the rearview mirror before he mused, “Anyway, what else would you do with your days?”

  “If I wasn’t running drugs, stolen cars, and guns, you mean?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Yeah,” he replied, his tone serious. “What would you do?”

  My scowl returned.

  I didn’t fucking know.

  “You’re only questioning things because of Seamus, and I get it. I am too. I’m hoping you’re going to break the mold with him. Not gonna let Da do his usual shit. He takes over because we let him have too much sway. It’s about time we started getting in his face about the stunts he pulls.

  “He’s only gotten away with it for so long because he’s unhinged and we’re all half-terrified he’s going to kill us. But he’s getting older.”

  “Older doesn’t mean weaker,” I retorted. “You and I both know he’d shoot us in the head if we didn’t, as you said, toe the line.”

  He shook his head. “No. Haven’t you noticed? He’s changing.”

  “He is?” My brow puckered. “Since when?”

  “Few years back. They never talk about it, but he’s calmed down a lot. Wouldn’t be surprised if Ma got him on meds or something. He doesn’t have those blackouts like he used to have.”

  I blew out a breath because he wasn’t fucking wrong.

  “Jesus,” I whispered, “how the fuck did I forget about that?”

  “Not like we have time to smell the daisies, bro, is it?” His gaze flickered to the rearview mirror again.

  “We got a tail?”

  “Yeah.” He grunted. “Least it’s only the Feds.”

  “Fucking Dunbar,” I groused.

  “What did Da have to say about her?”

  “He wants Eoghan to take her out.”

  “She’s a nuisance, but she isn’t that much of a nuisance. Not worth us raising hell with the Feds.”

  “Why do you think we were arguing?” I countered with a short laugh, watching as he maneuvered onto the highway that would take us to my side of the city without getting stuck in traffic.

  Of course, traffic was a way of fucking life for us, but we avoided it where we could.

  “Surprised he consulted you,” Bren commented, his brows high.

  “Yeah, I was too. Think he only did it because he wanted to talk about Shay again.”

  Brennan cleared his throat. “Don’t like to talk about the kid this way, because he’s cool, but you know how much leverage he gives you with them, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” I
gritted my teeth. “I do.”

  “Gonna play that card?”

  “If it means keeping him safe, hell fucking yeah.”

  Brennan flashed a grin. “Good.”

  His cell went off, making the console flash with Aidan’s name.

  “Answer call,” Brennan rumbled. As it connected, he said, “I’m on speaker with Declan, Aid.”

  “Nice timing,” was Aid’s reply.

  “Hey, bro.”

  “Hey, Dec. You doing better?”

  “Still aching, but on the mend.”

  “Good, good. Gonna see you on Sunday?”

  I pulled a face. “Yeah. Don’t think I can get away with it for another week.”

  Brennan and Aid snickered, but Bren quickly told him, “We’ve got friends.”

  Silence fell at his words, and I knew Aidan was registering what that meant.

  “Everything okay?” Brennan continued.

  “Yeah. Got great news actually.” He cleared his throat. “Managed to get the property in the Bronx secured. The offer was accepted.”

  My brows rose. “What property?”

  “Aid had one of the kids on his crew enlist,” Brennan whispered, “with the Italians.” Then, to Aidan, he said, “They didn’t do much research, did they? You offered under the asking price.”

  “Because the dumbfucks are desperate for the cash,” Aidan retorted. “They’re acting like lunatics and need to pad their accounts.”

  “Well, Don Fieri doesn’t have much to live for anymore, does he? Ain’t got anyone to pass all the family jewels onto with both his kids dead.”

  I cut Brennan a look. “Are we getting our friends from school involved in the project? It’s a fixer upper, right?” Did you ask the bikers to get involved? I asked, referring to the Satan’s Sinners’ MC we had familial ties as well as business links with. This conversation was going to wear on my last nerve because we’d have to speak in code. If we had a fucking tail, then the car might be bugged too.

  “Nah. No need.” Brennan shot me a dry smile which told me that was a lie.

  If the Sinners dirtied their hands, then I realized the Italians must have hurt one of their women. Shit, I’d missed out on a lot more than I’d thought if that was the case.

  “Dec, you need to figure out why. Maybe there’s something we can use.”