The FBI would have a fucking field day if they happened upon this gathering tonight. Anyone who was anyone in the underworld was in attendance. Notable bosses and their underbosses, the O’Sullivans, the Walshs, the Ryans, and the Kellys, who specialized in everything from guns to pussy, dined on hors d’oeuvres without a care in the world. Security was tighter than a virgin’s asshole. No one was getting in without an invite.
My father sat regally at one of the tables talking with Ferdi and a few men I recognized from the Murphy clan, who hailed from South Boston. My oldest brother, Oran, was seated to his left. As heir to the family, he was rarely far from our father’s side. Although this was supposed to be a friendly gathering, they never missed an opportunity to further our business holdings within the brethren. They looked every bit the part of the keepers of our future. They represented the MacCabe legacy to the fullest. My father spotted my brother and me right away and waived us over, smiling from ear to ear. Movement coming towards me halted my advance and subsequently fucked my entire mood.
When it rains, it fucking pours.
Karma, you spiteful bitch.
She hadn’t changed in all the years since I’d last seen her in person. Strikingly beautiful and sexy as all get out. If I’d known she’d be here, I never would’ve come, regardless of my father’s orders. Fionn shouldered past me, oblivious to anything not in his own personal orbit, and continued on while I was stuck stock-still in my worst nightmare.
“Darragh,” she whispered my name, causing my cock to stir on cue. She shouldn’t possess that power, not now, after everything.
I looked deeply into her dark eyes. Everything around me slowed to a crawl, or stopped altogether. Arabella Cocci—or Bella, as she was called. I remembered the first day we met at the age of six, our awkward first kiss at twelve, and the night of her sixteenth birthday when she gave me her virginity. My chest warmed when I realized she was smiling up at me with her full lips and one dimpled cheek. I longed to reach out and touch it. Feel the softness I knew all too well on the tips of my fingers. It was all right there for the taking. All mine.
She raised her glass of champagne to her lips just as the lighting in the room caught the sparkle off the diamond on her left hand. It was just the bitch slap I needed to wake the fuck up.
“Excuse me.”
“Please. Don’t go, Darragh.
I turned on my heels without acknowledging her presence and headed straight for the exit. I was wasting valuable time with this bullshit. Seeing her put everything back in line in order of importance. Someone was fucking with my business, and it was payback time.
CHAPTER 18
Otelia
THINGS INEVITABLY CHANGED after I was freed from the clutches of Darragh MacCabe. Some for the better, others were a lot worse, depending on the hour of the day. My favorite foods were now bland to the taste, water wasn’t quite as wet, and the singing birds outside my bedroom window gave me a fucking headache. How could two days in isolation have left such a profound mark that on most days, I found it difficult to breathe? Something was missing, like an amputated limb, phantom sensations signaling my brain that a part of me was left behind. I was in an awful rut that I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out how to shake. As much as I wanted to blame the mob boss for my current state, it wasn’t entirely his fault. Didn’t mean he hadn’t had a part to play. Just not all of it.
There’d been a shooting in the parking lot of the diner about a week ago that left a young girl badly injured. She was there having dinner with her boyfriend, at least I assumed it was her boyfriend, before they had a silly fight. He left in a huff, and she decided to wait for him outside, hopeful that he would return for her. Sadly, he didn’t.
Since that tragic turn of events, Nipsy implemented a few changes at the restaurant designed to protect “his girls”, as he put it. Twenty-four-hour security guard stationed at the door with strict orders to escort each of us to our cars after shift, even if it was broad daylight outside. Massive flood lights were added around the entire building, so damn bright you could probably spot them from Mars. As if that weren’t bad enough, he changed the look and style of our uniforms to something that resembled a gunny sack. Puke brown with a flared skirt that slipped past the knee and buttoned all the way up to the neck. It looked completely ridiculous, but Nipsy wouldn’t have it any other way. His place, his rules, he said. Like it or lump it.
“Hey, Odie?” Maribel interrupted my thoughts as we worked our shift.
“Sup’, babe?”
“Wanna hang out later and grab a bite to eat? Somewhere that doesn’t serve a side of ptomaine poisoning with their entrees.” She laughed as she saddled up next to me at the counter.
“Oh? Your man gave you permission to leave the house unchaperoned today, or did you plan on taking another ass whoppin’ and labeling it love like always?” I spat hatefully.
“Odie?” She blanched, shaken.
Congratulations, Odie. You’ve reached cunt level of Jumanji.
Sorrow clouded her previously bright features the minute those horrible words left my mouth. She didn’t deserve it, and none of what I said about her relationship with Marcus was true. He wasn’t Drew and never fucking would be. Marcus was a war hero, a protector to the extreme. His love for Maribel had stood the test of life or death, and they came away the winners. Deep down I knew my misplaced anger was not with her but the ever-blossoming connection to that whore she called a sister.
I tried and failed to understand what made her forgive that horizontal heifer for all the shit she’d pulled in the past. I mean, so what she showed up to the fight with the payoff money? So fucking what? That hadn’t stopped her from boasting about how much she loved sucking Mac’s dick to anyone who would listen. She’d been missing when Maribel needed her the most, and that shit didn’t sit well with me, not one bit. In my eyes, she would always be a Barbie bitch from hell, and no amount of explanation would make me change my mind.
A tentative touch to my arm bought me back from my reflection in time to see my best friend staring at me with confusion in her eyes.
“I, um…” Shame blanketed me from the inside out. “I can’t tonight, Maribel. I have a date.”
She returned a tight smile.
“Oh, okay, then. Maybe some other time when you aren’t so busy.”
“Yeah, sure. Some other time.”
I ducked around her quickly, anxious to get away from the pain I’d caused. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t cancel my plans to spend time hanging out with my bestie. I simply didn’t want to. Wallowing was my business, and business was good. It hadn’t stopped the customers from giving me shit. As far as they were concerned, everything was right as rain.
“These eggs are scrambled. I ordered sunny side up.”
“Ma’am, can I get a refill, please?”
“Where’s my extra mayonnaise?”
“Ms. This burger is cold.”
Nipsy’s was in full swing, yet my brain was teetering somewhere between kill me now and bitch, get your shit together, pronto. I’d been off my game since the start of my shift, and people were starting to notice. My regulars were pissed, the cooks were threatening to go on strike, and Nipsy himself had ordered me to “Get the fuck out till my head was on straight.” His words. I tried to argue, but Nipsy wasn’t having any of it, said I could walk out or be carried out, my choice. One foot in front of the other, I walked.
I stepped outside into the parking lot and waited for what seemed like hours but was probably nothing more than a few minutes. What exactly was I waiting for? To be kidnapped, of course. Where was a handsome mob boss when you needed one? The sheer lunacy of that idea had me laughing my head off all the way to my driver’s side door. I wandered around for a while, stopped and grabbed a latte, took a stroll through the park. I even managed to do a bit of window shopping. None of it worked to get my mind off the one person I should hate with every fiber of my being: Darragh MacCabe.
I was going about t
his whole thing the wrong way. Instead of mooning over that asshole like some kind of a love-sick puppy, I needed to remember all the chaos he’d caused, not only to me, but to the friends I adored. Three weeks of this bullshit was doing my head in, and I needed to step back, flip it, and reverse it. Take all the good I’d been fantasizing about and see it for what it really was instead of the fairy tale I’d made up in my head.
Easy peasy, I thought.
The soft feel of the thick, glossy strands of his tousled hair when I ran my fingers through it and pulled till my fingers ached? It was probably willowy and coarse like a Brillo Pad soaked in oil. His soft, supple lips when he kissed the insides of my thighs were probably in desperate need of a tube of Chap Stick. The ache I still felt between my legs from our little “encounter” was more than likely caused by muscle cramps due to stress. It was a safe bet that Mac was packing a cocktail wiener beneath his fancy-ass suit pants and not the monster that had poked me in the back when he stood behind me. Yes, sweet relief.
That started the ball rolling.
Now, for the big guns.
My date for the evening was the total opposite of the aforementioned mobster. Dave was a horticulturist in town for an organic fertilizer convention from Georgia. Blond with blue eyes, straitlaced to a fault, and if that wasn’t enough, he drove a minivan that his parents gave him when he graduated high school. He was stable, unassuming, and most importantly, safe. We had a mundane dinner where we moistly talked about a bunch of nothing. Him with his save-the-earth speeches and me with my Nipsy’s daily specials, and yep, I was bored out of my fucking mind. It was safe to say that after an hour, I knew more about doodoo than I ever thought possible.
Jesus, take the wheel.
Dave must’ve sensed my disinterest. I stopped trying to hide it right around the time dessert was served. It was early on a Saturday night, and this date was already firmly set in the failure section of my memory bank.
“Well, Odie, it was very nice hanging out with you tonight,” he mentioned as he held open the door for me after our meal. I could see him fumbling around nervously, as if he was trying to talk himself into doing something he didn’t want to do.
“How about we have a nightcap at my hotel room? It’s a company trip, so I’m allowed to charge whatever I want to the room, including continental breakfast for two. Know what I mean?”
Smooth, buddy, real smooth.
He is fucking with me, right?
“Um…Dave, I…”
How could I put this without hurting his feelings? Hell to the fuck…no. The thought of letting him between my legs was about as exciting as a midlife colonoscopy. My eyes rolled to the back of my head so hard they hurt. This wasn’t working out as I’d planned, not even a little bit. How many did that make now? A hundred? Two hundred? Before Dave could reach the driver’s side, I felt the tell-tale burning of my nostrils before the warmth of the first tear fell.
“One day, my beautiful Odie, he will come into your life like a lightning bolt and whisk you away on a brilliant adventure. I see it, and it’s the most amazing thing in the world.”
He’d never lied to me.
If only I still believed.
“So? What do you say? My place? You, me, furniture we can get horizontal on,” Dave interrupted my musings.
I quickly wiped away the wetness from under my eyes. “Actually…would you mind dropping me off somewhere? It’s not far, and I can find my own way home. No worries.”
“Sure, Odie…but I thought we could get to know each other a little better.”
“Trust me, Dave.” I pointed to the red light. “I’m pretty sure I know all I need too about you, and I’m not that interesting. Hang a left.”
I hope to hell you know what you’re doing, Odie.
CHAPTER 19
MacCabe
THE PUTRID STENCH inside the old warehouse was burning my nose hairs to dust. Piss, shit, and vomit stained the floor surrounding the two assholes securely tied down three feet apart from each other. Ferdi and I had tracked down the fighters who thought it was a good idea to jump ship for greener pastures and set out to convince them that it wasn’t. One was already dead. The other was well on his way, whether or not he gave up the name of his new boss as I’d requested. I let him think there was hope for his survival, and why not? Everyone needed a little hope now and again. When I removed the teeth from his friend’s head one by one with a pair of pliers and rolled them on the floor like dice, I allowed his optimism. I alone controlled his fate, and when I shot his friend through the temple, I was justified in doing so.
“You fucked up, Ripper.” I wiped my bloodied hands down the front of his shirt, barely avoiding the drool that hung from his mouth. “Loyalty, my friend. It’s a simple concept. Try and keep up if you can… I. OWN. YOU.”
“Please, MacCabe, I’m begging you,” he slurred.
“Oh no, don’t bitch up now, motherfucker. You thought you could fuck me and get away with it? Do I look like a bitch?” He still wasn’t getting me, so I repeated, “Do I look like a bitch?”
I punched him hard across the face. My fingers split in the creases on impact.
“I told you from the beginning, don’t you ever try and fuck me, you piece of shit,” I growled louder.
“It wasn’t like that, Darragh. Dude came around flashing stacks of cash, said he’d pay double, more action if we went with him. It was anonymous, no names, I swear. I just wanted the money, man, that’s all. Just the money.”
“And you thought I’d just let you go, two of my top headliners? That I would make an exception ‘cause I’m such a nice guy? What about my money, huh? I don’t deserve to get paid, to make a fucking living? I’m just supposed to be a broke bitch for the rest of my life?”
“It was a mistake. I’m sorry,” he begged, folding his meaty hands together for emphasis.
“Yeah, me too, Ripper. Me too.”
The deafening shot rang out just before his body went limp still tied to the chair. He’d wasted enough of my time and my patience. Ferdi and I left the mess for the cleaner who was already dragging in bottles of disinfectant and plastic wrap from the trunk of his car. He had a long night ahead of him. We never got the answers we were looking for or the name of the fuck trying to ruin my business. If anything, we were more baffled than ever. I wasn’t the only one who ran illegal fights. Sure, my operation was top notch, but why me? Why this hick-ass town? Why try and take my fighters? I might have been a bit overzealous in shooting those two assholes, but let’s be real—I had to set the right example. Any sign of weakness now, and my ship would sink. Now they’ll think twice about backstabbing a MacCabe.
“Got a call into an old friend. Should have what we need before the nights end if all goes well,” Ferdi asserted.
“Be sure that it does. I want that asshole found, Ferdi. No excuses.”
“Roger that, Darragh.”
The evening’s fights were scheduled to start in a few hours. Instead of going back to the penthouse, I headed straight for the club to shower and change. My private office had its own bathroom and little chance that I’d run into anyone I’d have to explain my appearance to. I stood beneath the scolding jets, allowing the pressure to loosen the knots in my tightened muscles. Swirls of bright red filth flowed freely down the drain, little by little, until the soapy water rinsed clear again. The last remnants of indefensible betrayal felt hollow and meager compared to what it should’ve been. Deep down I knew why.
Who loves you, baby?
The memory of Otelia’s question flopped around in my head until I banged it against the shower stall to rid me of it. I refused to give stock to the musings of a silly sentimentalist whose life consisted of slinging burgers all day. What the fuck did she know anyway? Love was nothing but a four-letter word.
I grabbed a towel at the same time slamming the glass enclosure so hard it nearly shattered to pieces. Once I stepped into my office dripping wet and pissed the fuck off, I realized I wasn’t alone. T
he hairs on the back of my neck stood on end until I caught sight of the unexpected visitor sitting calmly in one of the leather-bound chairs.
“How the fuck did you get in here, Bella? I don’t recall inviting you for a visit.” I grabbed my electric razor and clean suit from the closet.
“You left the party so suddenly the other night, we didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“And just what the fuck do we have to talk about, huh? Your husband, Kallum?”
The bitterness in my voice was unmistakable. Kallum O’Brien took over for his father eight years ago when the old motherfucker nearly stroked out taking too many Viagra trying to keep up with his young mistress. Based out of Philadelphia, they mostly dealt in guns and narcotics.
“Among other things,” she replied through a smile. “How have you been, Darragh?”
I wasn’t sure how long she’d been waiting, but my entire office reeked of her. Fresh linen with a hint of something fruity. She was dressed comfortably in a pair of dark skinny jeans that hugged the curves of her hips. Her shiny dark hair hung loosely down her back in cascading waves that reminded me of a wild stallion running free on the prairie. A black sweater and ankle boots completed the look of the dutiful mob boss’s wife. The towel I was wearing was threatening to tent if my dick had anything to say about it. I tamped that shit down quick.
“You came all this way to inquire about my health? I haven’t seen you for years, Bella, and the last time we were together, you told me you were marrying someone else. Excuse me while I skip the nostalgic part of this intrusion.”
It took all the strength I had not to grab her by the upper arm and toss her out on her ass. She had some fucking nerve showing up here, uninvited, and looking for civil conversation. I resented everything about her being in my space. Her very presence offended me to the point of animus. What we’d shared was long destroyed, not stripped away slowly, but skinned alive like a rabbit for its coat. All that was left was bones and blood.
48 Mac (A Junkyard Boys Novel) Page 11
