I realized when her eyes met mine that I was staring at her. Tears blurred my world, but I turned without her seeing. I wiped my eyes before they could fall.
“Connolly O’Connell,” I repeated.
“Her mom was too high to come up with something different for her first name.” He shook his head. “Said it sounded poetic. Like, Connolly, O’ my Connell!, after she’d already finalized the papers. Her parents weren’t bad people. Just ended up being servants to drugs. That came first.”
Her attention to my name—Keely Kelly—made sense. We both shared too many of the same letters in our names.
Not really caring about the heels anymore, I told one of the salesgirls to add a gold pair on to my bill. Then I went and stood in front of Connolly, trying to hide the fact that my heart bled for her.
“Hey,” I said. “It’s time to blow this fancy joint and get something to eat. Maybe we’ll even start with dessert first.” I narrowed my eyes some, moving my head from left to right, like I was trying to read something that wasn’t clear on her face. Then I opened my eyes wide and gasped. “Ah! I see you agree! It’s so clear in the clouds today!”
She didn’t want to smile, but a small grin tugged at her lips.
“Sugar it is!” I held my hand up for a high-five. She placed her hand tentatively against mine and I closed mine over hers, squeezing a bit.
“Lunch it is,” a familiar voice said from behind me.
Why did it thrill me so much?
Cash’s hand slipped over my shoulder, squeezing a bit. I looked at him, all dressed up in his gentlemen’s attire. He reminded me of an old gangster from an earlier time. The man wore the suit, not the other way around.
It wasn’t just his clothes, either.
It was the “I don’t give a fuck who you are or what you’re about” attitude that he carried around like a fine cologne. It lingered in the air around him. Subtle but powerful.
I wondered how many men had moved out of his way because they smelled the carnage on him, and how many women had purposely put themselves in his path because of his hypnotizing charm.
He lifted his hand to the salesgirl. “Box everything up. My man outside will take it home for my wife.”
“Right away, Mr. Kelly,” the salesgirl said. She was good. She’d already memorized the name on the credit card.
“Don't worry, darlin’,” he said, when he caught me watching as the salesgirls looked him over. More than one and more than once. “These eyes belong to you, even though they happen to fit my face.”
“Smart,” I said, reaching for Connolly’s hand. “If you want to keep them there.”
I thought I heard Connolly giggle, but I couldn't be sure over the sound of Raff’s uncontrollable laughter.
16
Keely
Kelly left for wherever he was headed after taking us out to lunch. He was quiet during, watching me with Connolly, and I wondered what he was thinking. I couldn’t read the thoughts moving behind his eyes.
I didn’t have much time to figure it out, though. After we made it back to Kelly’s place, I needed to get ready for the event. As I set everything out, I talked to Connolly like she was answering back, hoping that I answered her thoughts. Or got close.
Maureen came to pick her up before I took a shower. The woman looked exhausted, and I understood why. She’d lost her son, the mother of her grandchildren, and now she had two small children to look after. One of the children, an innocent baby, was fighting for his life. When Maureen noticed the look on my face, she nodded, and I nodded back.
No other words were needed. One look sealed our understanding.
Before we’d made it to Kelly’s place, we’d stopped and bought Connolly some new clothes and shoes. Hers weren’t threadbare, but they weren’t the current style either. They’d seen better days. She didn’t pick anything out, but I saw her eyeing a few things and just got them.
I told Maureen that I’d bring them out to her car, but she shook her head and said, “Save them for when she comes here. You do plan on spending time with her?” The look she sent me went straight to my bones, because Connolly echoed it.
Maureen was testing me. So was Connolly. Plans in her world were probably constantly broken, like a painful snap of the bone time and time again, until she was paralyzed and couldn’t speak from the hurt.
“Whenever she wants.” I winked at her. “I’ll put CeeCee’s new things in her room—she can have it for whenever she comes over.” I’d put her things in the room Kelly assigned to me, since I was going to share his space.
“CeeCee?” Connolly’s voice was low and scratchy, maybe from not using it often.
“Your initials.” I paused. “Well, sort of. If you take the ‘O’ from Connell.” Then I went in a different direction. “Sometimes my best friend calls me Kee Kee. That’s sort of like CeeCee, too.”
Maureen’s face softened for the briefest of seconds before she hardened her features once more. “I don’t care what they say about you, Mrs. Kelly. I think you’re a fine woman. People hate until they learn to love something new.” With that, she grabbed Connolly’s hand and pulled her toward the street.
Connolly O’Connell watched me the entire time until she couldn’t anymore.
I shut the door, shaking my head. “Say about me?” I said to myself. “What the fuck are they saying about me around here?”
Kelly seemed to be the king of a smallish band of misfits in Hell’s Kitchen, in the midst of battle, fighting for a kingdom to reclaim. They all looked at him like he was some kind of anti-hero to admire. And they didn’t seem like evil people, which told me that they saw something in him worth the admiration.
Why the harsh judgment for me, though? He did me wrong.
Oh well. Fuck it. My happiness didn’t depend on other people’s opinions.
Unless it’s Mam.
I refused to think about the guilt the phone call had caused, so I occupied myself with getting ready.
Kelly’s bathroom was spa-worthy, and it was going to be nice to take a hot shower—a long one—before going to a fancy event like this. I used an egg timer in my last apartment’s bathroom so I wouldn’t freeze my tits off. I had exactly three minutes to wash my hair and body before the water turned ice cold. It was like swimming and then running naked out in a blizzard during New York winters.
At 5 o’clock sharp, I was waiting at the kitchen table, enjoying a glass of fine whiskey, when Kelly walked in. He must’ve showered and dressed at work. Harrison told me the place had a gym. A workplace perk. Kelly’s hard body was a testament to that.
He stopped in his tracks when he noticed me sitting at the table, in the dress, my hair done up, and makeup on my face. He recovered without a hitch, though. Just like I’d done when I noticed him in his suit. It was black and white and made for a gentleman. A gentleman who was anything but behind closed doors.
“You’re ready,” he said.
“You gave me a time.” I shrugged. “Here I am. At that time. Ready.” I took a sip of my whiskey and then set it down. “I told you, Kelly. I’m no princess. I’m used to working my ass off for basic necessities, so when I’m told a time, I make it.”
He looked down at the table, at the glass of whiskey I’d poured for him. “So you are.” He picked up the glass. It stopped when it was close to his mouth. “If I had a heart, it would’ve stopped at the sight of you in that dress.”
I stood to my full height, making sure that the sexy slit was noticed when I made my way closer to him. Maybe some would even call it dangerous. My legs were long, so I worked them to my advantage. When I reached him, my eyes turned up to meet his intense green ones.
A tiger. He had the eyes of a tiger.
“Oh,” I breathed out. “I think right about now, you know you have a heart, and it’s beating overtime, darlin’. I don’t need a red dress to bring you to your knees. Nah.” I ran my hand along the lapel of his jacket. “The color doesn’t matter. It’s my confidence that turns
you on, Mr. Kelly.” I patted the spot where my hand stopped and then went to remove it.
He took my hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on my fingers. I slipped my hand out of his, but I might as well have yanked it back. He noticed how that one act had sent a jolt of electricity straight up my arm. It made my hands tremble for a reason other than anxiety.
He grinned into his glass and downed it like a shot. “There’s so much about you that turns me on, my darlin’, but nothing makes my cock as hard as the scent on your body. It’s a sexual fantasy. It’s fucking confidence. It lingers in the room long after you’ve walked out of it, Mrs. Kelly.” He motioned to the front door, for me to go ahead of him.
I stopped when I made it right outside of the kitchen. “You're going to watch me walk out of here, aren't you, Kelly?”
“An arse like that.” His eyes moved over me slowly. “It'd be a sin to waste such a blessing.”
“Enjoy the view,” I said, throwing the words over my shoulder. “And try not to fall in love.” I winked at him before I sashayed to the front door.
A Rolls-Royce Phantom waited outside for us. A driver in a fine suit, complete with hat, opened the suicide doors just as Kelly put his hand on my lower back and pushed me forward. My feet had stopped at the sight of it. My ass had never sat on a seat so expensive before.
I ran my hand along the smooth leather. “This is rich,” I said.
Kelly took the seat opposite me, fixing his suit, before the driver closed the door and started making his way to the other side of the car. “Rocco Fausti owns a fleet of them. I use them from time to time.”
The driver slid in, looking through his mirror at Kelly, and after Kelly gave a nod, the privacy glass rolled up.
We had our own suite in the car. The ceiling looked like it was made of stars. The car moved smoothly, as if we were gliding through the air. A seductive voice came through the speakers a second later, “Billie Holiday, George Gershwin, Ira Gershwin. The Essential George Gershwin.” Then she announced, “‘The Man I Love.’” A jazzy tune started to play, something that was definitely before our time.
“No champagne?” I asked sarcastically.
Kelly turned to the divider between us and pressed a button. A console came down with two glasses hidden inside. Tucked even deeper was a really expensive-looking bottle of champagne.
“Magic.” I smiled a little.
Kelly handed me a glass and then popped the top. He poured me a glass and then took one for himself. We clinked and, without toasting, both took a sip. It slid down my throat like bubbly honey.
“Not magic, darlin’,” he said, setting his glass in the holder. “The Faustis. Gold runs through their veins.”
“I know.” I took another sip. “I know them, I mean.”
He nodded. “Macchiavello is connected.”
“Their wives have girl nights. Mari invited me.” I turned to him a little. “Rumor has it that they’re really powerful. Most of them, dangerous men.”
Kelly grinned. “Depends on the point of view.”
“What’s your point of view?”
He sighed, giving me his undivided attention. “We usually stand on the same side, the one with the same view. I have no issue with the Faustis. If I did—” he shrugged “—they’d wipe me clean, but I’d go down fighting.”
“Is Hell’s Kitchen really that important to you?”
“I’m willing to die for it,” he said and turned his face forward.
The things worth a man’s soul—faith, rights, a woman’s love, that sort of thing—seemed to say a lot about that man. I wasn’t sure what that said about Cash Kelly yet. Was he willing to die for the power to rule it? Or for the money? For both? Or for a cause more worthy?
We said no more as the car pulled in front of Macchiavello’s. Mari’s fiancé owned it, and it was one of the swankiest restaurants in New York. I’d told her that we were going, and she was excited, going on and on about some pasta dish to try. She said after their wedding in Italy, we’d meet up there for lunch.
The driver opened Kelly’s door first. Kelly stepped out, fixing his suit and tie, and then made his way to my side. My door opened, and his hand was waiting for mine. I took it, the slit in my dress riding high as I put my heel to the street. A stream of expensive cars waited their turns to pull up in front of the restaurant. People on the sidewalk stopped and pointed at a few of them. Ours included.
The restaurant was as expected. Romantic.
Candlelight made the entire place glow, there were roses on every table, a jazz band played in the bar section, and it smelled beyond amazing.
Kelly handed the man at the door a card, and we were led to a private room. It was so secluded that it seemed like only the two of us existed in the world. The food? Like nothing I’d ever tasted before.
Before I was truly ready, we left for the event. It was being held in a museum, and again, we were lined up with another stream of expensive cars. As we waited our turn, and guests stepped out, I started to recognize faces. Governor. Mayor. Union leaders—one I recognized from our wedding “reception,” the head of the longshoremen’s union. The kind of people included in little books.
Rocco Fausti and his wife, Rosaria, stepped out next.
Then us.
As soon as we were inside, Kelly started shaking hands and introducing me. The party was a menagerie of high-powered people, but Kelly kept to the local politicians. I knew how charming he could be, and he was using the power on everyone he spoke to. He wasn’t ass kissing, though. He was one of those men who oozed appeal without forcing it.
Done with the scene, and not wanting to make an effort to talk to Rosaria, I slipped away from Kelly’s conversation and headed toward the bar. I ordered a glass of whiskey neat, and then turned to watch the woman singing by the piano.
A man strode up next to me, ordered his whiskey straight up, and then turned to stand just like I was. “She’s good,” he said, taking a sip. His eyes were ready to flirt, even if his mouth never said a suggestive word.
“She is.” I kept my eyes forward, but I’d already gotten a good look at him. He was probably around Kelly’s age, but other than that, there was nothing else to compare. Kelly's scent was all around me, even though he wasn’t close to me. It murdered even the thought of another man in my bed. I still hadn’t forgotten the ache he left between my legs.
“How did Kelly manage it?” He took a sip from his glass, and the ice danced in amber.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Kelly.” He nodded toward him. “How did he manage to land such a beautiful and willing—I’m guessing—woman?”
I took another sip of my whiskey. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said, turning to him.
He looked me up and down. “Lee Grady.”
“Ke—”
“Keely Kelly,” he said. “I’ve heard the name a time or two.”
I nodded. “You’re part of the neighborhood gossip mill.”
“I hear everything.” He grinned.
“You mean you know everything.”
“Small distinction.” He turned toward the bar, ordering another whiskey for me.
I put my hand over the top, shaking my head. “No more for me.”
Lee nodded and then waved the waiter off. Setting his whiskey down, he leaned against the counter. “You’re not connected.” He turned his eyes to the right, studying me. “It can’t be love, because the bastard is incapable. So I’m having a hard time understanding why you’d marry someone like him.”
“Someone like him?”
“A marauding bastard who always goes after what doesn’t belong to him.”
“Maybe he feels like it does.”
“Maybe he does,” he said, taking another drink. “But feelings and reality are two different things, sweetheart.”
“There’s nothing sweet about me.” I grinned at him. “Don’t assume.” Downing the rest of my whiskey without ice, I went to turn from him, bu
t he caught my arm.
His fingers dug into my skin, and when I went to move, he gripped me even tighter. “I rule Hell’s Kitchen,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “What comes in and out of it. I’m going to make you a widow soon, Mrs. Kelly. I hope you took out a fat insurance policy on that bastard.”
Lee’s grip slackened before I heard the tick of a mouth. “You can look, but no one touches my wife but me.”
I turned in time to see Kelly take three of Lee’s fingers and snap them back. He let out a growl of pain, causing people in the area to turn and look.
Kelly didn’t seem to give a shit. He leaned in close to Lee’s ear. “We’ve discussed this plenty of times, Grady. You have to learn what belongs to you and what doesn’t. Touching another man’s wife is the equivalent of claiming his property. It’s disrespectful.”
Kelly released Lee’s mangled hand, rolled his shoulders, and then offered me his arm. I slipped my hand through, aware that people were watching, whispering, but it was a group of men in the corner that really drew my attention. Hate came off of them in hot waves, and the central fire? Aimed at Kelly.
“Those men,” I said, trying not to be obvious about it when I glanced at them. “They’re with Grady?”
Kelly lifted my hand and placed a kiss on my fingers, just like he had done before we left, but this time, it was for show. He was staking his claim. “Forget about them, darlin’,” he said smoothly. “You’ll never see them again.”
That was fucking cryptic.
“Are you friends with all of these political people?”
“Half of them had me arrested once or twice.” He grinned. “The other half have hired me.”
Sighing, I lifted my chin, keeping my eyes forward as we moved through the crowd. People were still staring, but for one main reason.
Marauder (Gangsters of New York Book 2) Page 17
