“Is that why you’re asking? To keep me safe?”
“No. You know better. I’ve had this planned for a while. Tonight, after I saw Sierra, it hit me hard. You could’ve been home at the wrong time. You could’ve walked with her to the store. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I protect people, strangers, for a living, and I couldn’t save the only girl I’ll ever love.”
“I—”
“Keely—” Harrison opened the door and then stopped, watching us. He had gone out to call our brothers. He kept them informed about everything. Those four were worse than a bunch of gossiping sisters. Harrison’s eyes narrowed before he took a step in, looking Scott in the eye. “Get your hands off my sister. Now.”
Scott looked between us. “I’m in love with your sister. I just asked her to marry me. We’ve been seeing each other for months. We’re in love.”
Harrison stared at Scott with a blank look and then turned his narrowed eyes on me. “Is this true?”
After a minute or two, he took my silence as admission.
“You couldn’t tell me?” I could tell my brother was hurt, and even though I hated to see it, he had no room to talk.
And. I. Was. Going. To. Kill. Scott. Fucking. Stone.
Who did he think he was? We hadn’t discussed this! This. Whatever this was between us, and it was moving way too fast. I couldn’t stop it.
My Mam. She had predicted this.
And Roisin. I had asked her to send me someone if this wasn’t right. And who did she send me?
The wrong man! Who would send a man like him? I knew for certain Roisin would’ve been the sane one between us. The practical one. Cash Kelly was chaotic. Nothing about him made sense.
Then Mari comes over with her face all busted. No place to live. Nothing in her pockets but old bread. I still had fucking itchy spots from a dress made out of tag material. I figured out that my brother was in love with the girl I considered my sister. He had been keeping the secret close to his entire life.
My roommate was brutally murdered.
And now, this!
I wished I could store arrows in my eyes for times like these. Even though it wasn’t physically possible, I made sure Scott felt them after I turned my glare from him to my brother. “Why couldn’t you tell me about Mari?”
“What about Mari?” he said, lying through his teeth.
“You’re in love with her!”
“Yeah, well, you’re in love with Mahoney here!” He nodded toward Scott.
“It’s Stone,” Scott said.
“Yeah, I got that, bright guy. I was making a Police Academy reference. You ever watch a movie?”
“Take me home!” I shouted.
I didn’t realize until I got there that Scott had slipped the ring on my finger. I slipped it off as we pulled up to my apartment, not sure why.
7
Cash
Uncertainty and I were old foes. I never enjoyed surprises, or not knowing what the hell to do in all situations. I was a man who always knew which road to take, which man in the room was going to be trouble, which one to kill, what to order, what fork to use at a fancy dinner party.
In a sum, I always had a clear picture of how life was going to play out for me.
Keely Ryan gave me anything but a clear picture. I couldn’t decide what I wanted more: for her heart to belong to Scott’s fully, or enough to pretend that it was.
If she’d given her heart to Stone, then her suffering would undoubtedly be his. Because that was what fools in love did. They suffered for the ones they loved the most.
Once she fell for me, he’d never get over it. Not even in death. Because he was going to love and hate her for falling for a monster.
Either way, though, I knew Keely Ryan was going to try to hand me my ass on a silver platter for fucking with her. She wasn’t going to give that heart of hers up without a fight, even if it was only to prove to herself that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.
I smiled at the thought of fighting with her, and it felt damn good to smile about something.
A knock came at my office door, and a second later, Raff stuck his head in. “I have a message for you,” he said.
We stared at each other for a beat.
“Did you bring the bottle so I can read the fucking thing?” I said after he didn’t answer.
“No.” He smiled. “It’s from Father Flanagan. Message by mouth.”
“There’s a surprise. I sent you to make an appointment with him.”
“Exactly.” Raff smiled even wider. “He said to tell you—” he cleared his throat “—‘Appointments are for those who believe God doesn’t have His own timin’.’” His Irish accent was horrible, but I got the point.
I lifted my arm and checked my watch. “He’ll see me at 3 then. I have another appointment at 5.”
He nodded. “Do you need me at 5?”
I nodded. “Harry Boy and his sister will be joining me in the office. Check them for weapons before bringing them in.”
His face scrunched up. “He’s been in here more than a dozen times. I’ve never had to check him before.”
“No.” I stood, going for my suit jacket. “I don’t expect him to have one. The woman? Double check.”
“What am I looking for? Specifically.”
“If she was able to hide a bow and arrow underneath her clothes, I’d say those. But seeing as she wouldn’t get past the front door, check for smaller weapons. Gun. Knife. Poisonous tablets.”
“What’s this about, Cash?” Raff moved out of my way when I made it to the door leading out to the waiting room.
“I’m going to steal a bride.”
His deep laugh echoed around the warehouse. “That’s somethin’ I guarantee you never stole before!” A second later, after he stopped laughing, he wiped his eyes. “Be serious. Stop fucking with me.”
“When do I ever,” I said.
“Mr. Cash!” My ancient secretary, Susan, who had also worked for my father, stopped me. “John is here for his appointment.”
I looked over at an older man sitting in one of the chairs, waiting. “Mr. Gerald.” He stood and I walked over to him, holding out my hand. We shook. “I have to run out, but I’ve been hearing things. I know why you’re here. Don’t worry about Martin. We’ll get him some help and then see if we can find him some work on the docks. Working for me.” His son, Martin, was hooked, and his old man was struggling.
Mr. Gerald nodded. “Your old man would be proud.”
I squeezed his shoulder and then told him I’d be in touch with details.
I stepped outside. Raff stopped me as I was setting my Fedora on my head.
“Cash. You’re being serious.”
“While you’re out.” I dug in my pocket and handed him a card. “Pick up a ring I ordered at that jeweler. You’ll need your ID.”
Stone’s ring was cliché and not meant for a woman like her. If I was going to do this, I was going to get it right, to show the both of them that I knew her better than he did. Another little nick to his heart.
I was halfway down the street when Raff screamed out my name. I stopped but didn’t turn.
“This is not the way it works. You only confess your sins after you’ve committed them—premeditated wrongs are a gray area, Kelly!”
I grinned. “Can’t blame a man for trying.” Then I figured I’d talk to Father Flanagan about them again when I got there. Gray areas were not my specialty; dark ones were.
“Cashel Fallon Kelly. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Father Flanagan held his hand up. “Why do I even ask? It’s been a while since our last visit. I forgot.” He tapped his temple twice. “Follow me.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” I said, following him through the church. It brought back memories of when I was a boy: my father taking us to church to confess our sins. The newsboy hat he made me wear to be respectful. The bitter and potent smell of incense thick in the air. The light coming in through the stained
-glass windows, falling on my face. Father Flanagan welcoming me into the room where he’d absolve me of sin. “You came to see me once a week in prison. Four times a month for ten years.”
“December,” he said.
“That’s right. You came five times a month in December.”
“A fella should have a friendly face to see around the holidays.” He stopped at what I called the “confession booth,” but I never called it that in front of Father Flanagan. It was the confessional in front of him. He had old-school ways, like my old man, and he’d take a ruler to my fingers in a heartbeat. “Go ahead.”
I entered on my side, and a second later, his voice came through from the other side. “Do you finally have sins that were already committed to rid yourself of today, Cashel Kelly?”
“I’m sure I do, Father,” I said, attempting to get comfortable. “But the ones I came to talk about today haven’t been committed yet.”
“Your moral compass still hasn’t come in yet.” He sighed, and I imagined him closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. “What is it that you need my ear on?”
I grinned. Moral compass. Father Flanagan liked to say that I was a late bloomer when it came to getting one of those. I told him to save his hope for someone who could benefit from it. I wasn’t born with one, and I doubted this late in life that mine would come through.
“I’m going to steal a heart. Or a bride. Either one works.” I’d said a lot of insane things over the years to this man, but this was a first.
He cleared his throat a few seconds later. “Explain in more detail.”
I reminded him of years ago. My father. Stone’s father. Me. Stone’s son. Then I went forward from that point. How it was going to go down.
“The pain ends once the soul does,” I explained in a little more depth. “‘There are three things that amaze me—no, four things I do not understand: how an eagle glides through the sky, how a snake slithers on a rock, how a ship navigates the ocean, how a man loves a woman.’” I quoted the Bible, because we were taught to know it. That was how my father operated, as a man who feared God but no man on this earth. “I don’t understand how a man loves a woman, but I do understand this: when the soul gets attached, it’ll hurt until the day it dies when it’s separated from the one it loves.”
“Are you positive, Cashel Kelly, that Scott Stone’s heart is attached to this woman’s?”
“Without a doubt,” I said. We became quiet for a moment. Something about his voice piqued my interest. I expected him to become serious, to become my moral compass, but out of all my years, I’d never heard a grin in his voice. “You think I’m doing the right thing.”
“No,” he said, after another long moment. He was smiling. I could hear it in his tone. “You are absolutely doing the wrong thing. You’re stealin’ a bride. Stealin’, no matter how we turn it, is a sin. You know this, and if you don’t, then maybe I should take a deeper look at my life. You and Killian were sent here to test me, of this I am sure. However, there are times in life when we get what we deserve.”
“Are you telling me that karma is going to come after me?”
“Somethin’ like that.”
“That’s cryptic.”
“Not really.” He sighed. “I would have an ear full for ya if ya told me you were plannin’ on stealin’ money or weapons. But a heart, Cashel? We’ll see. We’ll just see about that.”
“Still cryptic.”
He sighed, but this time it was impatient. “Tell me how you plan on stealin’ this girl’s heart.”
“Maybe you don’t know much about matters of the heart, when it comes to the opposite sex, but the day I met her, I knew it right away. She was mine. She hated me too much, and that only means one thing. Deep down, she likes me. She’s infatuated with me. The bad boy she thinks she can change.” I almost laughed at that. A bad boy was someone who did stupid shit. I was a dangerous man who made smart moves.
“Through all my hardness, she wants to find a crack in my bones, so she can go straight through my veins and steal my heart. She has no idea, though. I have no heart. And my soul? We both know it’s dark enough for light to get lost in. Good souls go on to live another life. But when my soul goes—that’s it. One life to live is literal for me.”
“What if Stone doesn’t truly love her, Cashel?”
“He does.”
“You’d bet your life on it.”
“The only one I have.”
“And you mean to accomplish what by this?”
“I’ll steal his heart and his soul will be mine. Everything. I want his everything. I’ll have it.”
“She’s his everything.”
“His job is his life. He lives for it. But the fierce archer? She makes him feel the light in the world when he’s surrounded by all darkness. Men like me, we touch him and make his life like ours, but in a different way. He fights against it, while we welcome it. And he doesn’t want his heart to get tarnished by the darkness. He doesn’t want his hope to get stolen by marauders like me.
“He and I both know that I’m the best at what I do. I can go beyond the physical and feel what means the most. He already gave her his heart to keep safe. To keep clean. Even though she has a tongue like a whip, she’s good, no matter how much she doesn’t want to be. She acts tougher than she is.”
“Have you ever loved a woman, Cashel?”
I tried to keep it down, but my laughter still boomed around me. “That’s the only thing we have in common, Father. Never. I’m committed to this life. You’re committed to yours. Funny enough, neither life leaves enough room for the love of a woman.”
He took a deep breath in and then released it slowly. “I’ve known you since you were a wee babe. As much wrong as you’ve done, you’ve never done this particular thing before.”
“Like I said, I know who and when. Scott Stone. Now. He’s vulnerable. I know his crack, and I’ll slip in like a thief in the night and steal what he stole from me. His entire life.”
A noise echoed inside of the booth. It sounded like Father Flanagan had set his hand against the divider. “All you feel is hatred for Scott Stone. All you see is a way in to steal what he claimed as his. But you’re forgetting one thing, my son. You’re forgetting the innocent woman. What about her?”
“I remember her. Vividly. She’s already mine—in hatred and in love. You and I both know how close they are. You’re not capable of feeling one without having the ability to feel the other. Indifference is the cold bullet to all feelings. This archer, she hates me now, but her heart is as good as mine. Even if she fights me for it.”
“One thing to keep in mind,” he said. “A woman’s heart was designed with thievery in mind—it was designed so that it couldn’t be tampered with. Not even by the best marauder around. You turn the stolen key, or pick the lock, and it might be your heart she claims.”
I hadn’t come to seek advice. I came to confess. So I sat back, settling in, comfortable with the uncomfortable. “I didn’t come here to confess my plans to you, Father. I came here to confess my sins. Or in this case, sin. Through my own hatred, I’m going to use her. Even though it’s unfortunate, it’s not enough to stop me from doing it.”
“It never is,” he muttered. “It never was for Maraigh, either. But we’ll see what happens this time.”
“We shall see,” I said. “No one has proved me wrong yet.”
That was that.
Father Flanagan watched as I walked down the street. He’d done it ever since I was a boy. Usually it was Killian and I together, come to say our penance and then off to act like little fools afterward. Father Flanagan used to say that he was surprised we could make it two steps from the church before trouble found us.
Make it a little harder for the devil, will you now, lads. The devil is fond of cheap dates.
Sticking my hand in my pocket, I whistled while I walked down the street, looking forward to my meeting with Harry Boy and family. Family, meaning his sister.
I wondered if she was going to finally make good on her threat and punch me in the face, since her bow and arrow wouldn’t be allowed in my building. Despite my acceptance of death, I demanded to live long enough to taste the sweetness of revenge on my tongue.
As I passed a warehouse, I noticed two guys standing against it, smoking cigarettes. My eyes didn’t linger, but I took notice of them. Halfway down the block, them still trailing me, I stopped in front of another warehouse.
I turned, facing them. “What do you need, fellas?”
“You Cash Kelly?”
Remember—stupid questions. Still, I gave him a brilliant answer for it. “All day.”
“Our boss has a message for you.”
One of them stepped forward and punched me in the gut. It wasn’t hard enough to make me double-up, but the other one decided to land a blow to my nose before I could move. I shook it off, blood splattering in all directions. “You done?” I said.
They both grinned at me.
My fist flew through the air so fast that neither one of them had time to react. I crushed the guy’s nose that had broken mine. He cursed, and before he could go for his gun, I pulled mine and shot him point blank in the forehead.
I felt the pressure of a gun behind my head, and the other fella snatched my gun from my hand, taking it. “You’re going to die a coward, just like your old man. He was never needed here. Never. He came here from Ireland on a martyr’s cause—”
Before he could utter another word, I turned on him and knocked the gun from his hand. It landed on the ground and slid. He was big enough to absorb my punches, but not strong enough to keep up with them. I was quick, and when I hit, I hit hard and in all the right spots. He danced with me while trying to get closer and closer to the gun again. When he went to duck and lunge for it, I grabbed him by the head and stuck my knee in his nose. His eyes rolled and he fell to the ground.
Leaning down, I grabbed him by his hair. “Look at me,” I said. “I want you to look at me when I say this.”
He blinked at me once, twice, but then closed his eyes. I let his head fall to the ground, before I took a step back, simultaneously looking at him and leaning down to grab my gun.
Marauder (Gangsters of New York Book 2) Page 7
