All of the Lights

by K. Ryan

  I love her. I know that now.

  And I have to hold onto her for as long as God will let me have her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Rae

  When I wake up on Sunday morning, my first instinct is to stretch out my left hand to find the warm body next to me. I come up empty and my head lifts from my pillow, squinting through my sleepy fog for the person I want to see.

  The scent of warm and earthy coffee grounds fill the room.

  There's also zero patches of midnight black fur in sight.

  Uh oh.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes as I pad out of my bedroom, down the hall, and finally skid to a stop. Jack is leaning nonchalantly against the counter in my kitchen, bringing a steaming mug up to his lips and staring down my cat, who's perched not-so-amiably kiddie corner to him. There's no growling, no puffy tail, no swatting, no hissing, and yet...and yet, I just don't trust Jack and Freya alone in the same room together just yet.

  Freya's had a little bit of time to get used to him already and the acclimation has certainly been a process. It's not like I expect miracles because my cat might as well be the devil in some respects, but at least they can actually be in the same room together, which is more than I can say for her and Bennett. Or anyone else for that matter.

  Wariness pinches Freya's face and she casts me a knowing glance as if to say, Oh, so I see we're still allowing the intruder in our home. Nice life choice.

  The key to their uneasy truce is that Jack just doesn't give her what she wants. He doesn't react, barely acknowledges her presence, and when he does, it's with the measured confidence I've come to expect from him that says, Whatever you do to me, I do to you. At first, I think it was the thing that infuriated her more than anything. Now, that just might be the thing keeping the peace between them.

  Neither of us are used to sharing our space with anybody else. Even when I was with Josh before he dumped me on my ass just a couple months ago, it was rare that I had a male in my apartment for this kind of extended time. It's the subtle things I'm not used to—his phone charger lounging next to the bed, his rolled up socks underneath my coffee table, two sets of plates in the sink instead of one...everything just feels so domestic.

  In two days, my life has irrevocably changed course. I was prepared to wash my hands of him and ready to accept the fact that we both had to walk away and then he just showed up out of the blue, saying everything I needed to hear. Not only that, but he's made every effort to show me the best two days of my entire life. Every moment has been better than the one before it, each second filled with a new memory, every touch, every kiss...I never expected us to get to this point and yet, here we are, sharing kitchen space and coffee like we've always been this way.

  After passing a reassuring hand over Freya's head, I move closer to Jack until I can rest my chin on his bare shoulder.

  "Hey," he murmurs, turning his mouth so he can kiss the side of my head.

  "Hi."

  "Want any coffee? I'll pour yah a cup."

  "I'm good for right now," I shake my head. When he drapes his free arm over my shoulders, that's enough. I don't need breakfast or coffee this morning because this simple contact with him is all I need.

  When my phone buzzes in the bedroom, I groan, rub my eyes, and stalk down the hall. I already have a feeling I know what this is about, especially at this hour, and I pound out a quick response to her before tossing my phone back down on the nightstand.

  If you're down $750 from yesterday's plan, then you need to plan yourself up another $750 for today to try to make up for that deficit.

  Lucy fires back just as quickly: Right. I knew that. I really did. I'm on it.

  "Everything okay?" Jack calls out to me as I make my way back to the kitchen.

  "Yeah," I shrug. "She had an easy question, but she's still learning. She'll get there."

  His lips tug apart in a happy grin and I find myself mimicking the sentiment.

  I'm still getting used to the idea that she's willing to try, willing to take my help, and willing to share. It wasn't what I'd asked her for, but how could I turn her down? To run a business with my sister and run it well...that was a dream I hadn't known I had until it was right within my fingertips.

  Still, I jumped on the chance to have this beautiful, albeit brief, window of time with Jack and while operations aren't running completely smooth, the store hasn't burned down and she's only texted a few times with questions because I know she wants to prove her worth. I know I need to let her.

  So now, I wrap my arms around Jack's waist and breathe him in, the woodsy musk that lingers on my sheets, in my shower, and on my skin. Thinking about tonight feels like a waste of our morning, but it just can't be avoided. I don't want him to go, but I can't tell him not to either.

  "I've still got a couple hours before I have to head out," he whispers to me like he can read my thoughts.

  If we could just bask in this for a little bit longer, if we could just shut everything else out and just be, maybe I'll be able to rest easy for the rest of the day. But since reality has once again come knocking down our door, I'll spend the rest of my pacing this apartment like a caged cat. I never even bothered to ask if I could come to the fight tonight—what's the point in asking questions you already know the answer to? Besides, I don't know if I could stomach the sight of him in the ring, swinging, jabbing, and potentially setting himself up for a world of hurt.

  And yet, I have to give him this out. I have to let him know that maybe, regardless of circumstance, Jack should listen to what his dad is telling him a little more carefully.

  "You don't have to do this, you know," I rest my chin on his shoulder and hug him close. "We can figure something else out. It doesn't have to be this way."

  Jack's head turns sharply. "And we've talked about this already. I'm not backing out. I'm not a coward. I don't lose."

  "I know," I sigh heavily and close my eyes. "I know."

  His lips brush my temple in a featherlight kiss, but that doesn't ease my worries. The fact that he's so cavalier about this, so confident, so sure...it just makes me less confident, less sure and I don't know how to tell him that.

  "This is all gonna be okay and by midnight tonight, I'll be back here, crawling into bed and playing nurse with you."

  Jack catches my inevitable flinch immediately and both his hands cup my cheeks to force me to look at him. "Hey. I'll have a couple bruises. There's gonna be some cuts. Some blood. I'll probably have to ice my hands when I get back. It just comes with the territory, but it's nothin' to worry about. You're looking at a professional, okay? I know what I'm doing and I need you to trust me."

  I want to. I really do. I just can't help this foreboding hovering over us like a moldy blanket. The next time I see him, I need to believe I'll see him in one piece. I need to believe I'll see him at all.

  His lips find mine as his free hand sets the coffee mug down on the counter behind him. Freya grumbles her disapproval, but all I can feel are his hands. All I taste are his lips, sweet and bright from the coffee lingering on his tongue. It's enough to make me forget for just a little while as he leads me back to the bedroom where we can cling to each other, where we can forget that our borrowed time together just might have reached its expiration date.

  LESS THAN AN hour before the fight is scheduled to start, someone knocks on my door. I've been alone now since Jack left to meet up with Brennan and the pacing has been underway for just as long. But when I open the door and find the mayor on the other side of it with a calculated stare, my heart free-falls into my stomach.

  Borrowed time indeed.

  "Hello, Raena," he starts coolly.

  His eyes, dark and slanted, frost over the second Freya plants herself next to my feet. Her lips curl back to bare her teeth and every hair on her back stands on end as a low warning erupts from her throat. When the mayor just narrowed his eyes, her body curves up to the ceiling and a sharp hiss vibrates through the air.

  The
mayor huffs. "I told you to euthanize that animal months ago."

  "Yeah, well," I tell him flippantly as I scoop my hissing cat up in my arms. "I didn't listen."

  I never have to listen to you again, I think smugly.

  "Can I help you with something?"

  Now, his sharp eyes shift from the cat to me. "Watch your tone, Raena."

  I don't give him the satisfaction of backing down. Instead, I hold my ground and stare right back.

  "I'm here to pick you up for the fight tonight."

  My body freezes in the doorway and I know there's no way he missed it. No way he can't smell my fear or taste my anxiety. That's what he lives for.

  "What do you mean?" I swallow hard and squeeze Freya's little body to me for some sense of security in my own home. "I don't know anything about that."

  He just grins, but it's more to bare his teeth than anything. "Of course you do. My assistant forwarded you all the information last week and you confirmed you would be attending as well as sitting with me in the VIP section as my guest."

  A scare tactic. That's what this is. He's trying to manipulate me into doing what he wants through lies. By strong-arming me. By conning me. Even if I didn't want to be within 100 miles of that fight tonight, he's not going to win.

  "Sorry," I shrug easily. "There must've been some mistake. I never confirmed anything and I definitely never got any kind of invitation. Maybe she sent it to Lucy."

  The error in my words slams through me before it even flickers over his face. His lips spread in a victory I'd voluntarily forfeited—all over one simple slip of the tongue.

  "Yes," he practically purrs, his voice smooth and slippery. "Maybe I did sent it to Lucy. Perhaps I should go pick her up instead. Perhaps she's the one who should accompany me to the North End."

  It's enough to give me pause and he knows it. He's just bought himself some more time and then he unleashes without warning in a low, clipped growl, "Perhaps, if your sister isn't an option, then maybe your brother is."

  My blood halts in my veins even as he rolls right along.

  "Oh, that's right. He's probably already there to help prepare Flynn, isn't he? Pity. I'm sure he would've made interesting company in light of the upcoming election."

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The words are trapped in my throat and beyond that, I've got nothing.

  "How is Flynn these days?" the mayor grins knowingly. "I hear he's been busy."

  The walls close in on me as all the blood in my body races to my head at once. He's shown his cards and I know, the same way I knew things weren't all as they seemed with this fight, that the mayor hasn't even played his full hand yet. There's more. There has to be more. He wouldn't be here, right now, on this day, if there wasn't.

  "If you were smart, Raena," he tells me with a sinister smile that has me trembling right in front of him. "You would do as I say. Now."

  Numbness creeps down my spine, infecting my limbs, my mind, my spirit...everything he has to take, everything he has to manipulate. I feel like it's his already and we've barely just begun. So I give Freya one last squeeze for some semblance of strength, set her down behind me, and follow the mayor outside, pausing just long enough to grab my purse. It doesn't matter. There's nothing in there that could possibly help me. Not even my phone will do me any good.

  His Maserati idles close by and after he holds the door open, I wordlessly, cowardly, slide into the back seat. Once the mayor is seated next to me, we're off—to the arena, to hell, I don't know. It all feels like one in the same. Silence haunts the air just long enough to turn my clammy hands into cold, sweaty messes before his voice, cool and crisp as it ever was, finally breaks the surface.

  "Did you really think I didn't know?"

  The question hangs in the air, heavy like an anvil, and I almost ask just what it is he thinks he knows. It doesn't matter. He'll probably never let me leave this car anyway. At least not alive.

  "I've known about the blood that runs through your veins since before you were born," he continues. "Your mother believed she could hide it from me, even gave you an Italian name to keep up the pretense, but I'm nobody's fool."

  Even now, I don't know why she bothered. If she was so hell-bent on running away with Roark Callahan, why did it matter if I had an Italian name or not?

  "I didn't kill your mother," he informs me easily. "But I wish I did."

  I suck in a harsh breath and bite down on my bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

  "I gave that woman everything I had to give. I loved her. I took care of her. Gave her free rein to come and go as she pleased. Gave her access to her own account and let her spend it however she wanted. She had everything she could've ever wanted and yet, it wasn't enough."

  If she hadn't gone behind his back the way she did, I wonder if things might have been different for her. All Valentino Moretti truly cares about are appearances—having the perfect life, the perfect wife, and the perfect family. Not being able to control the situation, not being able to dictate who knew which details, where they went, and how long they stayed there for...that must've been what drove him crazy the most. He was clearly willing to raise a child who wasn't his, or at least pretend to, just to keep anyone from knowing. Why wouldn't he have been willing to accept my mother's lover if it meant he could maintain his image and stay in front of any potential bad press?

  Maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought she did. Or maybe she just never cared enough to really understand the man she'd married. Maybe her cardinal sin wasn't the act itself, but the concealment of it.

  "She dug her own grave," the mayor's ice-cold voice floats around me. "And I haven't given her a second thought since."

  Sure. That's why you have pictures of her in the office you lock 24/7.

  He loved her and she threw it away. I guess I know a little bit about what that feels like. Our shared bitterness and our shared sense of abandonment aren't going to be enough though. Still, surprise grips my throat when the car pulls right up to the front of the Santino Arena. The expansive parking lot is packed full to the brim with spectators rushing in get to their seats and when my door opens, I have no choice but to join them.

  The mayor grips my elbow to pull me along as we're ushered in through a side door, flanked by security detail, until we're shown inside a swanky, heavily furnished room with a large viewing glass window at the front. He pushes me into a seat as the door shuts and drops into the seat next to mine.

  "Ah," he gestures down to the empty boxing ring in the center of the floor. "We're just in time."

  Right on cue, the lights dim, leaving only a spotlight shining on one corner of the arena.

  "Ladies and gentleman," a voice comes over the loudspeaker. "Welcome to the inaugural fight at Santino Arena! Please direct your attention to the corner of our arena for the pride of Southie...Jack Flynn!"

  The crowd erupts—some booing the enemy, others whooping for the horse they've placed all their bets on—and there he is. Tattooed muscles rippling as he pounds his gloved fists together, wearing an appropriately green pair of long silky shorts, and makes his way up to the ropes with Brennan and Father Lindsay right on his heels. The priest must be Roark Callahan's proxy, as usual, because I can't imagine a scenario where the eldest Callahan would actually show up for this particular fight.

  I watch helplessly as Jack's eyes scan the crowd with a lazy smirk on his face. His gaze drifts from the crowd on the floor to the windows above him and I brace myself for the impact. The moment our eyes meet, Jack's body turns still as a statue, on alert, furious and pale all at the same time. Right on cue, the mayor leans forward to ensure that Jack sees who I'm sitting next to.

  Now I see this for what it really is. I'm a distraction. A warning. A threat. If he wins, what's going to happen to me? If he loses, what does that mean in the long run? That evidence Jack believes we need to prove everything the mayor has done...

  All the air whooshes from my lungs in one fell swoop.

&
nbsp; "Did you really think I didn't know?"

  Of course. How could I have been so stupid? God, why did I get in the car?

  "Did you really think you'd get away with it?" the mayor's eerily calm voice fills the room. "That you could visit Sean Callahan in prison and I wouldn't know? That you could speak to him on the phone and I'd never find out about it? That you could break into my office and I didn't have video surveillance running to protect myself? That you and Jack Flynn could steal files from my computer and I'd be none the wiser?"

  It's as if the floor has opened and swallowed me whole, pulling me down into a fiery hell of my own making. Stupid girl. So, so stupid. And overzealous. And reckless. And goddamn suicidal.

  "Right now," he continues in that cool, easy timbre. "My men are in your apartment erasing all the files from your computer. They're deleting your emails and clearing your hard drive. They're confiscating the flash drive you used to steal my personal information. Your phone is inconsequential because I've been monitoring your calls and your text messages since you were 15, but the photos you've taken during your so-called surveillance have also been removed. As you can see, any evidence you believe you have is now null and void."

  The bell rings as the fight begins, both fighters circling each other, and even though no punches have been thrown, the sucker-punch has already landed on its target.

  "I have every intention of letting you live, at least if you don't force my hand."

  It's clear to me now. If he really believed I would use the information I had against him, he would've intervened the second he found out I'd been in his office the first time. I was never a threat. Barely even the possibility of a threat.

  "But that doesn't mean I can condone the crimes you committed against me. I'm willing to give you 24 hours to get your affairs in order and then you're never to step foot in this city again. You'll disappear and everyone will forget you ever existed. I don't care where you go or what you do as long as I never have to hear about it."