This Life II

by Dee, Cara

  Funny how quickly I lost my hunger.

  I set down the fork and forced myself to take a sip of Coke before I sat back and pulled the covers over me, tucking them under my arms.

  “You once told me you wouldn’t forgive just anything,” she reminded me. “You’d do your best to shoulder your role, but you were no doormat. You had limits.”

  I flinched.

  “Has your limit been reached yet, Emilia?”

  That was the question, wasn’t it?

  It was Luna’s turn to visit me the next day.

  Liam was getting ready for work; he was heading out with Finnegan and a few others to scout a location for something. He let Luna in while he zipped up his suit pants, and Luna wrinkled her nose and walked past.

  “The hell was that look for?” Liam muttered. “Fucking lesbians.”

  “Liam.” I widened my eyes at his stupidity.

  Luna rolled her eyes. “It’s called standards, Liam. I’m not a lesbian. I just have standards.”

  Of course, that only started a bitch fight between Liam and Luna.

  I sighed and leaned back against the couch, wishing we had cookies in the house. Maybe I could bake—ugh, no. I didn’t have the energy anymore. I felt too depressed.

  “Oh, bite me,” Luna snarled at Liam. Over something. I couldn’t keep up.

  Liam smirked and got close, towering over her. “Nah. You’d like it too much.” He ghosted his knuckles over her cheek, to which she recoiled and glared at him. He found that funny. “Ye raging feminists are fun to rile up.”

  I quirked a brow, suddenly wondering if I was watching a fight or foreplay.

  Was I imagining the tension between them?

  “Go fuck yourself, you leprechaun dick.” Luna shoved him aside and stalked over to me, slumping down on the couch with a scoff. “Like it too much—he wishes.”

  I squinted at a grinning Liam, who returned to getting dressed, and I nudged Luna. “I think he can still hear you.”

  She clenched her jaw and pretended to inspect her manicure.

  Yeah, there was definitely tension between the two.

  Interesting.

  Five minutes later, Liam left us alone, and I bit back the urge to ask him to keep Finnegan safe. After all, the shitheads weren’t only stellar liars. They knew how to defend themselves too.

  “So, that was fun,” I said.

  She shot me a look.

  “Jeesh.” I held up my palms in mock-surrender and figured it was best to change the subject. “What brings you by, my darling friend who would never get on my case about Finnegan?”

  She found that funny, though. “Nice try,” she chuckled and crisscrossed her legs. “We’ll definitely discuss him, but we’re gonna start with you. And the fact that you haven’t left this tiny-ass studio in three days.”

  “I like it here,” I defended. Lying through my teeth.

  I was an O’Shea, wasn’t I? Lying came with the job, evidently.

  Ugh. I was actually an O’Shea.

  “I don’t care,” Luna replied flatly. “The truth is that you can’t shut out the world, because you have responsibilities. Let Finnegan rot for all I care, but you’re still very much a part of the Sons.” At my incredulous look, she continued. “I was upstairs earlier, Emilia. It’s not the same. Finn and Eric do their thing, and the boys stop by for instructions and orders, but something’s missing. We women give these pricks a purpose. Without us—without you—Finn flounders. He cares less. He’ll take bigger risks, because what the fuck does he have to lose? And it’s a ripple effect after that. The guys will begin to question his decision-making, they’ll start looking elsewhere—maybe Liam? I don’t know. But I don’t wanna see a rift between those two. Or anyone else in the syndicate.”

  I swallowed and just stared at her.

  She took a breath. “It’s okay for now, hon. For now. But like I said, something’s already missing upstairs.”

  I dropped my gaze to my lap.

  She was right. There was so much to be done, and a lot depended on Finnegan’s temper. I knew he was the type to grow cold and distant; I’d seen glimpses of it after we lost Grace and Ian.

  “Autumn misses you too,” Luna murmured.

  I winced, struck by guilt.

  “You’re right.” I cleared my throat and wrung my hands in my lap. “I can’t hide anymore.”

  The relief in Luna’s eyes was palpable, and she reached over and squeezed my hand. “This is your life too, Emilia. Finn may have given it to you, but you’re part of our organization. You’re family.” A twinkle of amusement flashed. “You’re the first Daughter. If you’re not around, I’ll be stuck as a poor damsel in distress forever.”

  I snorted and shook my head. “If anyone’s first, it’s you. You’ve been around far longer than I have.”

  She smiled and hugged her knees to her chest casually. “I’m not a leader. Once you figure some things out, I think you might be.” She paused. “You’re a lot like Grace, you know. Always maternal, but you won’t hesitate to break balls if you have to. That’s a good leader—like she was. John’s wife—Anne…? Just a piece of Botox on his arm. She doesn’t exactly have any followers. Grace, on the other hand—well, you know.”

  I smiled sadly, missing her so fucking much. “The heart of the syndicate.”

  She dipped her chin. “You’re the next Grace, Emilia. The difference is that your husband will be the boss, and you will want a more active role.”

  She said it so confidently, and I knew she was right again. I felt it. I hadn’t felt anything except a faint “abort, abort!” warning when Sarah spoke of leaving everything behind and starting over, just the two of us. My brain couldn’t process the idea. But what Luna was talking about…God, I craved it. I itched to carve out a significant role for myself that went beyond the perfect wife.

  I wanted to be much more than that.

  Well, right this second, I didn’t want the wife part at all. I wanted to put everything that had to do with Finnegan on hold. Knowing him, he’d hound me if I went upstairs right now. He’d suffocate me with his questions of how he could make crap up to me.

  “You have to adopt your own questionable methods, Emilia.”

  The memory smacked me right in the face, the one of Shannon telling me that the O’Sheas played by their own rules. And that I was equally allowed—even encouraged—to do the same.

  I could make up a rule, couldn’t I? What I needed from Finnegan was space—indefinitely—and he was going to grant me that. All while we carried on with our plans for revenge. That way, I could still be a part of everything. I could be there with the others. I could pick up the pieces of my existence and see what I was left with. No more hiding.

  I faced Luna head on. “This is gonna sound insanely juvenile,” I started. “But I need you to pass a note to Finnegan.”

  Because if I went up there, he’d speak a mile a minute. If I called—same. I wanted to get my thoughts and demands in order and write them all down. Then he was going to read every single word and agree.

  14

  Finnegan O’Shea

  Four days without Emilia. I’d gone longer than that without her before, like last time I’d lied to her, but this was different. This time, I was terrified to even hope.

  I checked my watch and continued pacing the hallway.

  Luna was coming up in a few minutes.

  There was a list of demands…

  At this point, I was ready to agree to anything. Whatever Emilia wanted, she could have.

  I knew this didn’t come close to her forgiving me; Luna had been quick to warn me. This was so that all of us could be in the same room and work, including Emilia.

  Christ. I rubbed my chest. It physically hurt to be without her. And I was fucking useless when she wasn’t around. The flat had turned dark and cold. The fridge was home to takeout containers and leftover pasta I’d made. My one attempt at cooking…

  “You’re making me nervous,” Pop bitched
from the living room. “Sit down, son.”

  “I can’t.” I ran a hand through my hair and checked the time again. Bloody hell, Luna was late. A whole goddamn minute.

  I should’ve dressed properly. What if Emilia came up soon? I’d shaved the day after she’d left, just so I wouldn’t have to bother with grooming every morning. But the stubble didn’t erase the fact that the rest of me looked like a vagrant. Sweats and a hoodie—maybe with a couple stains on it.

  I didn’t know how to use the washer.

  Pop had brought new pairs of underwear for me when he arrived yesterday, just because I was a fuckup who couldn’t do my own laundry.

  In my defense, I knew how to work the units at home in Philly. But here, Emilia had handled everything.

  I stiffened when I heard the elevator.

  That better be Luna.

  Eric and Autumn were…somewhere else. I didn’t know, to be honest.

  I was too distracted.

  Pop appeared in the hallway and paused in the doorway to the office. “I’ll give you some privacy. Mind if I start going through the names Eric found for Amsterdam? I’d like to see if there’s anyone I recognize.”

  I waved a hand. “Go for it.”

  Another few erratic heartbeats later, someone knocked on the front door, and I all but ripped it open. Thank fuck, it was Luna.

  Her hand was still midknock. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it. “For chrissakes, breathe.”

  I was breathing.

  She kicked off her boots and walked past me, chin raised high. “You look like shit, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” I locked the door and then followed her into the kitchen, which wasn’t my favorite place at the moment. This was Emilia’s space. And I didn’t mean that in a chauvinistic, asshole way. This was just where she’d goofed off with Autumn, their laughter reaching Eric and me in the office, where she’d created meals that made the guys fall at her feet, where she’d squealed and run around the kitchen island the time I’d chased her with a dish towel… Leading to the sex we’d had right about where Luna stood now. Hands on her hips, head cocked, brow hitched.

  “You really must be depressed if you don’t even have a snide remark for me,” she stated.

  I sighed and slumped down on one of the three stools. “Don’t start, Luna. Tell me what you got instead.”

  She pursed her lips and took a seat too, leaving one stool between us. “Emilia’s done hiding. She misses being part of things. Including work.” That one came with a pointed look that made me furrow my brow. “We both want to be more involved, Finn. This revenge is important to us too. And I believe it’s in your best interest to let us in. After all…Emilia found a mother figure in Grace, and I don’t need to remind you that she’s always missed having a mother, right?”

  I winced and scrubbed a hand over my jaw. Luna had come prepared, I’d give her that.

  “I’m not surprised you wanna get more involved,” I admitted. I’d seen that coming for years. Luna was ballsy and wanted to do everything herself. Giving her shit for studying feminism and ragging on her for being radical was a cloak of bullshit for the most part. Because underneath it all, we knew—Kellan and I—that she was strong, capable, intelligent as hell, and independent.

  Traits that my wife shared, though Emilia was still finding her way.

  Now this…

  I’d been knocked down the past few days and was too humbled to scoff, laugh, or be dismissive.

  “You can’t see Emilia wanting more?” Luna asked curiously.

  I nodded with a dip of my chin. “I watched you work out in Italy, and I’ve seen it before—in Washington. She goes all in.” I cleared my throat and blew out a heavy breath. “Part of me’s been in denial, I guess. But you weren’t there from the beginning. Emilia hated me. Not for who I was per se, but for what I did. The first few weeks, I’m pretty sure she called me ‘criminal’ more than Finnegan.”

  Luna grinned and let out a laugh.

  “I’m glad you think that’s funny,” I said somewhat patiently. “But do you get it? For her to wanna get involved in this, she has to have changed some core beliefs in a very short period of time—”

  “Revenge is different,” she intervened. “Even for me. Neither of us is sure how we wanna proceed in the future, but we have no qualms about breaking laws to hurt murderers.”

  “That’s a naïve outlook,” I told her and stood up. I walked over to the fridge, my mind reeling, and grabbed us a couple sodas. “I’ve made peace with who I am, Luna. We all have. We understand what we are—otherwise, we can’t be initiated—and if you look at the big picture, we’re no different from the Avellinos.” I couldn’t believe I was having this discussion with her. That things had come to this. Women in the Sons? It couldn’t fucking happen. “I’m gonna tell you something—maybe it’ll make shit clearer.” I didn’t want to say it, but it was already on my list of things to confess to Emilia. “Understand the level of trust I put in you,” I said seriously, and she nodded. “You keep it to yourself, too, because I haven’t told Emilia yet.”

  She became guarded at that. “You’re going to, though?”

  “Aye.” I remained standing on the other side of the island and slid her a can of Coke. “You say revenge is different,” I stated. “I get why you’d think that, but innocent people always get caught in the crossfire. In Italy, I offed the driver just so Mikey could take off with the truck.”

  Luna’s eyes went wide, and she swallowed hard. “Emilia told me you’d promised he wouldn’t get hurt.”

  I raised my brows. “You see my point? I’m not gonna tell you anything else. None of this is any of your business, and before you try to make it your business, youse gotta get it through your skulls that we hurt people too.” I bent over slightly and rested my forearms on the top of the island. “We also lie to our wives—for many reasons. We don’t want you involved. It’s nothing we wanna burden you with. And also, because we’re sure you wouldn’t love us if you knew everything we do.”

  I shouldn’t have said that last part. It was one of those uncomfortable truths we kept to ourselves.

  Luna processed in silence, sitting there fidgeting with the soda can, and I could only hope I’d made an impact.

  If I got really lucky, she—and Emilia—would reconsider altogether.

  “This is why you’ve lied about everything,” Luna murmured, frowning. “It is, isn’t it? You made Kellan a fake FBI agent. You lied about her mother. In the negotiation, you mentioned tampering with her birth control.” Fuck. Another thing I had to tell Emilia. “And this—all the fucking lies—because you don’t think she’d love you if she knew the truth.”

  I slanted a smirk, legit amused by her, and straightened. “Don’t go soft on me, Luna Ford.” I took a swig of my Coke. “I don’t think. I know.”

  Anything Luna said would fall on deaf ears—on this matter. Because there wasn’t a fucking chance Emilia would’ve married me if she’d had the truth from the get. This was reality. Had I not conned the future love of my life, she still woulda been in that shitty little town of hers. She’d be at the diner, working for scraps, trying to save up money for a one-way ticket to Italy where she’d search for Elena.

  “I’m not going soft,” Luna argued. “Look, maybe you’re right. Maybe she would’ve told you to fuck off. But she forgave you for the lies in the beginning. It’s what happened afterward that lets us know you’re an insecure little shit. You have no faith in her love for you. And I bet behind that gigantic ego of yours, you’re not as assertive about how good you are for her as you believe.”

  She was wrong. I’d never believed, or pretended to, that I was all that great for Emilia. My life came with rules, risks, and restrictions she wouldn’t have to worry about in a normal relationship.

  It was nothing I had any desire to discuss with Luna either.

  “Did you have a list of demands from that wife of mine?” I asked.

  I didn’t think Emi
lia would divorce me anytime soon. What I wholeheartedly believed was that our marriage was about to turn into a mere piece of paper. She’d summon her strength to get strategic, and she would abide by the contract. Then when my time was up, she’d leave and take everything she could with her.

  I didn’t know what would become of me after that, to be frank.

  If these past few days were any indication, I was well and truly fucked.

  “Finn, I’m only trying to help you.”

  “And why’s that?” I blurted out in reflex, and suddenly I had to know. Luna had always been there in the background—at christenings, birthday parties, whatever—but we’d never been close. This was probably the longest we’d talked. Ever.

  She sighed and opened her soda. “I don’t know…? You’re the brother I never wanted, maybe.”

  “You have a brother,” I pointed out.

  “Yes, he’s the brother I wanted.”

  Touché.

  She quirked a little smile. “I’ve never seen you like this, you know. This distraught, this lost. And it’s all because of her. Even when Grace died—I mean, you went straight for anger and grief. You were never lost. Right now, you literally don’t know what to do.” She took a sip of her Coke. “She’s your world. That much became clear at the wedding. And it’s nice to see, having been there—growing up with you, I mean. You were always so fucking cocky and reckless, and while you definitely love your family, no one’s grounded you the way Emilia does.”

  I tensed up, and the way I instinctively wanted to make a dig at her only proved how new this was, and how Luna and I usually communicated. Through jabs and bullshit. Her being all genuine… I didn’t know how to react. It was a mindfuck.

  “Do you remember that guy who bullied me in junior high?” she asked out of the blue.

  “Vaguely.” Of course I remembered.

  She smirked wryly. “You think I don’t know that you and Kell roughed him up?”