THE CALLAHANS (A Mafia Romance): The Complete 5 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Mom knew, too. She commented on it once and said something to the effect that she hoped you would be patient.”

  “I was afraid to admit my own feelings because of her, but she knew?”

  “She knew everything. She was the smartest woman I knew.”

  That was true. Mom always seemed to know everything, always seemed to have what was needed exactly when it was needed, whether it was a good piece of advice or a twenty-dollar bill.

  I missed my mom.

  “Stacy’s refusing to talk to Pops. He’s called a dozen times since this morning, but she won’t talk to him.”

  “She’ll come around,” Sean said.

  “I hope so.”

  I was worried about her, to be honest. She was consumed with what Jack told her about Davis. We talked about it for hours, but she continued to be agitated, pacing the house, refusing to listen to anything I had to say. And I didn’t dare bring up Pops. She was so angry with him for trying to apologize…I didn’t know if that would ever be resolved. There was just too much under the bridge there.

  I just wanted my family to be whole, my wife to be okay in the same room with my dad, and for us to be capable of family gatherings without tears and screaming and frustration.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket.

  “They must have seen something,” I said, tugging it out and pulling up the text screen. It was definitely from Ian, but there was nothing yet. He was just checking in.

  “This is going to be a long night. I should go get us something to eat.”

  I nodded. “Do you want me to ask them what they want?”

  “They can fend for themselves.”

  I watched Sean go, slipping out of the car and walking quickly down the street, trying not to draw attention to himself.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes, wondering why the hell I was here. We weren’t going to find this guy until he came after me again. He was a ghost. It was his job to be a ghost. That’s why he was still alive.

  I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that Stacy had hired someone to kill me. She thought I killed Davis. I could understand that. But I couldn’t understand how she could hate me so much that she wanted me dead. She gave herself to me, knowing that when all was said and done, I would be dead.

  I wanted to forgive her, but I was struggling. I didn’t want her to know that, but I just couldn’t breathe when I thought about it. I looked at her, and my heart hurt. I loved her so much, but now I wasn’t even sure I could trust her. She said she loved me, but was that just a trick? Was she really past all of this? Did the truth really change anything?

  I had to believe it did.

  I knew, at the end of the day, that none of it really mattered. I loved her. I wasn’t going to leave her, so if she still wanted me dead, I’d be dead. That was all there was to it.

  I heard a noise and…

  Chapter 25

  Stacy

  Killian was out looking for his would-be killer. I was sitting on the couch, staring at the television, but not really absorbing it. All I could think about was all the things that could go wrong.

  I didn’t think I could live through another one of those phone calls.

  I got up, went to the kitchen, and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. I should eat—I hadn’t eaten all day—but I couldn’t make myself do it.

  Davis lied to me. Everything was a lie.

  It all seemed so obvious now. There was one night, early in our relationship, we were on the couch, and I started to climb onto his lap. He was aroused, I know he was. But he lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the cushion, quickly moving away from me.

  “I have an early class in the morning,” he said.

  “So stay the night here. My apartment is closer to the school, anyway.”

  “I’d love to, but don’t you think it’s a little soon?”

  “It’s been two months. Some people start sleeping together the night they meet.”

  “I’m sorry, Stacy. Not tonight.”

  I’d been hurt. I thought there was something about me. He brought me flowers the next morning and swore that it was exhaustion talking rather than desire. I believed him. But now? He was married. He clearly didn’t want to cheat on his wife and that, I suppose, was commendable. But it was a red flag that I clearly missed.

  How many other things had I missed? How many other clues were there that I didn’t see, clues that could have saved my family and me all this heartache? How many clues were there that could have kept me from hiring that killer in the first place, that could have saved Killian from suffering the bullet wound in his shoulder, the cuts on his body, the struggle that lay ahead of him tonight?

  This was all my fault. I put the blame on Pops, but it was clearly all my fault.

  I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit here and wait for word.

  I grabbed my keys and had my hand on the doorknob. I screamed when I yanked the door open and found Pops standing there.

  “Sorry,” he said, raising his hands. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  I could see it in the way his gaze fell from my face. Something was wrong.

  “No. Not again. I can’t—”

  “He’s alive, Stacy. We just…things are complicated.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “He’s in trouble. I need you to go to the house and stay with Cassidy. I need to know you’re safe while we deal with this situation.”

  “No. I’m going with you.”

  “Stacy—”

  “He’s my husband. I won’t stand on the sidelines while he fights for his life!”

  He studied my face for a long moment, and then he nodded, biting back a small smile. “Okay. But you stay by my side.”

  I brushed past him and climbed into the car. When he didn’t immediately follow, I called back to him.

  “Do you need an engraved invitation?”

  Chapter 26

  Killian

  He shattered the window next to my head, stunning me. If not for that, I would have been able to fight him off. Not only did he break the window and knock me in the head, but also he had a Taser.

  When I was able to move again, I was suspended from a beam in the center of his renovated apartment. Nice furniture. He’d laid down plastic tarps to protect the carpets and the couches.

  “Welcome back,” he said.

  “Sorry about the nose.”

  He touched the edges of his swollen nose. “Not the first time it’s been broken.”

  “Yeah? Never broke my nose. Broke about everything else, though.”

  His eyebrows rose as he eyed me. “I’ve broken all my ribs, both my legs, and my right arm.”

  “Impressive.”

  He shrugged. “So, I sent word to your father. The cavalry should come soon.”

  “Why haven’t you killed me?”

  “Because your woman has gotten me caught up in the middle of something I don’t quite understand. I was hoping if I had you, I’d find out what this is all about.”

  “We were hoping you knew what this is all about.”

  “All I know is that your wife contacted me, hired me to kill you on her cue. Just before she sent the text telling me to kill you, someone else wired twice the money to my account that she’d paid and said that she would change her mind, but I should continue with the contract anyway.”

  “Who was it?”

  He shrugged. “Hell if I know. I’ve worked a dozen times for Jack McGuire. But this wasn’t him.”

  “Was it my father?”

  “No. But it’s kind of sad you would think so.”

  I would have shrugged, but my arms were caught over my head, tied with rope. I twisted my wrists, trying to test the rope, but it was so tight I wasn’t getting out of there any time soon.

  “Whoever it was, he knew who I was, and he knew all about your wife’s contract.” He shrugged for me. “My guess? The guy is s
omeone in-the-know with your family.”

  “My father thinks we have a mole.”

  “Very possible. I heard there was a kidnapping some time ago, too. Not to mention your little wife’s fiancé.”

  “We know you did that.”

  “Yeah. Guy was an Italian spy. I would have taken him out for free, but Jack insisted on paying me.”

  “You know Jack well?”

  “I’ve known him for years. Like I said, I’ve done a number of jobs for him.”

  “He trusted you to do this thing with Davis?”

  “He’s trusted me to do most of his top secret kills.”

  “Do you realize that he’s the one that told us how to find you?”

  The hitman shrugged. “There’s no loyalty in the mafia.”

  He walked closer to me, his eyes moving slowly over the length of me. He grabbed the front of my shirt and ripped it open, exposing my tattoos.

  “Been to the county jail a few times.”

  He wasn’t asking. He was observing. His fingers moved slowly over my tats, touching the ones that interested him the most. Then he snagged his finger under the top corner of the bandage Stacy put on the cut he’d given me that morning and he ripped it away, tearing a little bit of flesh along with it.

  I watched him, curious what he was up to.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  He picked up a baseball bat and slammed it into my ribs. I grunted, but controlled myself enough that I didn’t scream. He hit me again, and I felt two ribs break that time.

  “Can’t send you home to that pretty little wife without a few marks.”

  I just stared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my pain.

  He raised his bat again. “Tell me who wants you dead.”

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you, but we don’t know either.”

  “Whoever he is, he’s put my ass in a fucking sling.”

  He swung the bat again, slamming it hard against my upper thigh. I bit my lip hard, drawing blood, but I didn’t scream.

  “I had a good gig going with Jack. This guy made it look like I was working both sides of the game. He made Jack think I was working with the Italians.”

  He thrust the tip of the bat into my stomach, forcing the air out of my lungs.

  “Jack sent you after me so that you would kill me. He thinks I’m a fucking traitor!”

  He swung the bat again, making contact with my hip.

  “I’m the one you’re supposed to kill! How the hell would I know who hired you?”

  “He wants you dead. He must be someone who knows you. Someone you crossed.”

  “I’ve crossed a lot of fucking people,” I said, spitting on the tarp under my feet. It was tinged with blood.

  “You better start thinking quickly, man. Because when I’m done with you, I’m going to start on your pretty wife.” He raised his bat again, but then he got this sort of dreamy look in his eye. “She’s a sexy little thing. I’m going to have a lot of fun with her.”

  “You stay away from her!” I tried to reach him, tried to kick at him with my dangling feet, but he was standing just out of the way. “I will skin you alive if you touch her.”

  “That’ll be fun to see because you’ll be dead.”

  I reached for him again, straining my legs, but he was still out of reach. But his bat wasn’t. He slammed it down on my ankle as I raised my foot. This time I couldn’t help but cry out as pain sliced through me. I leaned forward, the strain on my shoulders almost overwhelming. I hurt everywhere. My ribs, my thigh, my belly, my ankle, my shoulders. But I couldn’t show him my weakness. I had to stay alert for Stacy.

  “Tell me who’s behind this, or I will kill you and I’ll go after Stacy at your house. Do you understand?”

  I just spat again.

  He moved up close, grabbing my jaw in one powerful grip. “I’ll wait until she goes to bed and then I’ll crawl in beside her. By the time she realizes I’m not you, I’ll have her pinned to the mattress, a knife against her throat. She’ll do everything I ask of her. Absolutely everything.” He breathed heavily against my face. “Has she ever given you a blow job, brother? Ever swallowed for you? She’ll swallow for me.”

  And then he laughed.

  I was blind with rage. I didn’t even think about it. I wrapped my legs around his waist and slammed my forehead into his broken nose. He screamed as blood burst all over my chest, his chest, and the plastic tarps on the floor. And then I slammed my forehead against him again and again until he passed out. I let him go, watched him crumple into a heap.

  But that didn’t solve my immediate problem. I was still hanging from the ceiling with ropes that were tied so tight that I could no longer feel my fingers.

  Chapter 27

  Stacy

  Pops drove to a renovated warehouse in downtown Boston, one of those places with hot new loft-style apartments. They were all the rage right now, especially for young executives who liked to spend their money on all the latest fads. He parked behind an empty sedan in front of the building. Sean immediately slipped into the backseat from nowhere.

  “I’m sorry, Pops,” he said quietly.

  “What exactly happened?”

  “We hadn’t seen anything. I went to get some food, and when I came back, the window was broken and Killian was gone.”

  “What about his phone?”

  “Sitting on the front seat with a message telling us to back off in an open text window.”

  I turned so that I could see his face. “Did he have a weapon?”

  “A gun in a shoulder holster. But he left that behind, too.”

  Fear trickled through my chest, but I refused to believe that Killian was dead. It made sense. Why would he keep Killian alive when he’d been paid to kill him? Twice he was paid. But I had to believe Killian was still alive.

  Pops put the car in gear and pulled around to the other side of the building. Ian was leaning against another simple sedan, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “They’re in the apartment on the top floor.”

  “Is Killian…?”

  “He’s okay, so far.”

  “Where’s Kyle?”

  “Trying to get onto the roof.”

  Pops made a face, but he didn’t say anything. He simply turned off the car’s engine and climbed out.

  “Stay,” he said pointedly to me as he leaned back inside. “Keep her here.”

  Sean nodded.

  We watched them walk to the building like a couple of guys out for a walk. I was so tense that I could barely feel my legs. I needed to get out of the car; I needed to go with them. I needed to find Killian.

  “I can’t…”

  “Stacy, they said you should stay. You have to stay.”

  “I can’t. He’s my husband, and all this is my fault.”

  “It’s not. It’s the fault of whoever is trying to hurt the family.”

  I shook my head. “If I hadn’t hired the hitman in the first place…”

  “Stacy!”

  I jumped out of the car and ran around the far side of the block, away from the building Pops and Ian just entered. I couldn’t follow them. They’d just send me back. But if I went in front the other direction, there was nothing they could do.

  I had to save Killian.

  I could hear Sean coming up behind me, but I ducked into an alley. I was always better at hide and seek when we were kids than he was. I kept close to the side of the building, dashing in and out of the shadows so that he couldn’t see me if he happened to look around the corner at the right time.

  I stopped for a second, just long enough to get what I knew I would need. Then I slipped into the building and ran quickly up the stairs.

  I’m coming, Killian. Wait for me.

  Chapter 28

  Killian

  I struggled, pulling at the ropes, twisting my wrists around, trying to break free. Blood was running down my arms, dripping over my shoulders and down my chest. He was groani
ng. He was going to be awake soon, and then I’d be dead, and Stacy would be vulnerable to whatever came next.

  I wasn’t going to let that happen.

  I bounced against the ropes, trying to use the weight of my body to stretch the rope. Nothing I did would loosen the ropes. And his groans were turning into something more comprehensible.

  Fuck!

  Where was Pops? Where were Ian and Kyle? Where was Sean?

  I tugged harder, ignoring the pain shooting through my shoulders. I had to get free. There was no other choice.

  I cried out as I pulled roughly at the rope.

  “Let me go!” I mumbled.

  “It’s not going to let go. I’m good at tying knots.”

  The killer pulled himself up off the ground. Blood continued to pore from his nose, his voice changed by his horrifyingly shattered nose. The additional swelling from the damage I’d done changing his face into something unrecognizable. He looked like something out of a horror film.

  “Let me go, and I might let you live.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not the deal. I don’t get all my money if you live. And he won’t clear my name with Jack.”

  “Why? Did you ever ask him why? Why me? Why now? He probably could have taken me to at any time. Why now?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Now I want you dead. You fucked up my face, asshole!”

  He came toward me, and I kicked. Something about what I’d done to his face must have messed with his vision, because he didn’t see the kick coming until it was too late. My foot smashed into the center of his chest, sending him flying backward. He screamed in pure fury as he slowly, painfully pulled himself up off the ground.

  “Stay down!”

  He made a sound that might have been laughter before, but it sounded more like a choked gurgle.

  “You’re dead.”

  He came at me with his bare hands extended. I tried to move out of the way, but he had me hung high enough that I couldn’t reach the floor. I was like a punching bag just hanging from the rafters. He slammed into me, hitting my broken ribs just perfectly with the side of his face. I immediately began to struggle, trying to work him back enough so that I could kick him again. The only good thing about his fury was that he pushed me back so far that he put a new pressure on the rope around my wrists. I could feel it slide up my wrist, catching on my thumbs.