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

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Just like that?”

  I shrugged. “We thought it was over, but then Stacy’s fiancé was killed. Pops thought it was related because there was a warning on a warehouse where one of Jack’s men was tied up that said they were going to take everything precious from Pops. So he sent Killian out there to watch over her. But Stacy thought Killian had killed her fiancé, so she hired a hitman to kill him. Fortunately, she fell in love with him and called it off. Unfortunately, whoever set the whole thing up paid the hitman twice as much to continue with the contract…and he nearly killed Killian.”

  Delaney began to pace the kitchen.

  “Not only that, but someone was giving information to the Italians, creating a turf war between them and Irish. And giving information to the police so that a bunch of Jack’s men were picked up off the streets. Someone was trying to take us out, one bit at a time. And then Pops’ arrest…”

  “You think that’s related to all this?”

  “Now I do. These text messages seem to confirm it.”

  “But why?”

  I shook my head. I’d been working so hard on the “who” that I hadn’t considered the “why.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It seems very personal.”

  “It does.”

  “Why Brian and not Jack?”

  That was something else that bothered me. Jack was the leader of the Irish mob. If this was a move to take over the organization, this person would be going after him, not Pops. It didn’t look like it was the organization this person was after. He wanted Pops in jail. He wanted Pops to suffer.

  But why?

  Something told me that if I could figure out the “why,” I could figure out the “who.” But it seemed like that proverbial gold ring—it was always just out of reach.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Delaney said, coming into my arms, wrapping her own arms around my chest. “You and I are no longer part of all this. We’re on our way to Europe, and then we’re coming home to a new life. You’re going to work for that law firm, and I’m going to launch that new social networking app, and we’re going to be blissfully happy together.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Promise me that all this is in the past for you.”

  I kissed her forehead. “He’s my father.”

  “I know. And Jack’s mine. But we don’t have to let their choices define ours.”

  She was right, of course. I kissed her gently.

  “We’ll go backpack shopping tomorrow.”

  Her eyes lit up, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  She was right about one thing: we were going to be blissfully happy together because we already were.

  Chapter 25

  Sean

  I heard the phone buzzing, but my sleepy mind wanted to ignore it. I rolled over to find Delaney sound asleep, her hair tangled everywhere. I smiled softly, moving it gently out of my way before reaching over her to get her phone off of the nightstand.

  I didn’t know the number. But it was three o’clock in the morning, so it must be important.

  “Hello?” I mumbled.

  “Somehow I knew you’d be the one to answer.”

  The voice was altered electronically, probably by one of those apps, making it almost unrecognizable as human.

  “Who is this?”

  “I’m sure she showed you the text messages.”

  I nodded, glancing back at Delaney, as I carefully slipped out of bed. I went into the hallway and stood at the head of the stairs, staring down into the darkness as I tried to picture the person on the other end of the line.

  I was afraid I knew who it was, but I fought the idea.

  “How long do you think it will be before he goes down? Do you really want to go down with him?”

  “Why are you after my father? What’d he ever do to you?”

  “Oh, Sean, how naive you really are. After all you’ve done for Jack, how can you still be so blind as to what Brian Callahan is capable of?”

  “I know what he’s capable of. That’s what makes me wonder who could have the balls to take him on like this.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you? Do you really know what you’re getting yourself into? Because I don’t think you do.”

  “He deserves to die for what he’s done. But I’d rather pick his family off, one by one. That way he suffers before he meets his end.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a bomb attached to the ignition switch of one of your brother’s cars. Can you guess which one before they get up for work tomorrow morning?”

  “You’re lying!”

  “Am I?”

  There was laughter, but it sounded like that canned stuff they used to put on the soundtracks of sitcoms back in the seventies. But there was also something familiar about it.

  My heart sank.

  Fuck me!

  “I know you’re lying because I know that when you lie, you have this funny little quirk to your laughter.”

  “Very good,” the voice said. “You know who this?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you know that if you tell anyone,” he said, the app disappearing and his real voice floating across the distance to me, “that I will come after Delaney. And I will not stop until she’s dead.”

  “We’ve stopped you before.”

  “Temporary delays.”

  “We got Brianna back—”

  “Because I let you.”

  “—and we stopped that hitman from killing Killian.”

  “Only because he kidnapped Killian instead of shooting him dead—right there in the car like I told him to.”

  “You touch one hair on Delaney’s head—”

  He laughed again. Kevin laughed as if this was some sort of game we once played when we were kids.

  “Watch your back, Sean. This isn’t over. In fact, it’s far from over.”

  “Why? Just tell me that much. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because he took her away from us,” he said, his voice a low, angry growl. “Abigail Callahan was the only person who ever gave a shit about me! She was the only one who ever saw me for what I was and not for the person everyone else assumed I was. And he took that from me. Do you really think I believe that she died of heart failure because of the saline and morphine they were giving her? Bullshit! He killed her—and now I’m going to make him pay. I’m going to take away everything that’s precious to him!”

  “I’ll stop you.”

  “Try. I want you to try. I want to play this game with you because this time…no one is going to win here, Sean.”

  “Then stop.”

  “Go kiss your girlfriend. She’s so pretty when her hair tangles that way…”

  The phone went dead in my hand. I ran back to the room, but she was still asleep, alone and unmolested in the bed. But now I found myself searching every weak spot in the house.

  We were leaving for Europe tomorrow. I loved my family, but Delaney...I couldn’t survive without her.

  I’m sorry, Pops.

  ~~~

  KYLE

  Prologue

  Amelia

  “Keep a close eye on him. We weren’t terribly sure about the dosage,” Mickey said, slipping a room key into my hand. “And make sure you get to the chapel by four.”

  “He has no idea what we’re doing?”

  “No. But you can trust me. This will all work out for everyone.”

  I watched him walk away, fear pounding in my chest as I turned to the hotel room door. I’d never been in the guest rooms before, never had a reason to be. But this moment had the power to change everything.

  I closed my eyes and another moment burst across my mind. My mother and father fighting, my father screaming at the top of his lungs like some sort of child. I hadn’t thought about those fights in years, yet they were suddenly right there, ready for me to snatch whenever I needed one.

  Or d
idn’t need it.

  I remembered how splotchy my father’s face was when he came to my school to tell me Mother had left him. I remembered the name he spoke, the man who’d ripped our family apart.

  Brian Callahan.

  This was my opportunity to fix all that had gone wrong in my life, in my father’s life. I could at least repair some of the damage and return things to a livable condition. And what difference did it make if Brian Callahan’s son was hurt in the process? He hadn’t cared when his actions destroyed me and the future I’d had planned for myself.

  I took a deep breath and used the key to open the door. He was standing by a table at the back of the room, repeatedly removing the lids from room service dishes.

  “What is this? Are we having dinner?”

  “We are, Mr. Callahan.”

  “Lovely. I enjoy having dinner with beautiful women.”

  He crossed the room and came to me, taking my hands in his. He was nothing like what I’d expected. He was tall and dark, his hair cut so short as to not be there, his features so delicate that he almost resembled a china doll, if a china doll could be masculine.

  He was beautiful. And he thought I was, too.

  “I seem to be having some trouble with my memory,” he said slowly. “Did I invite you up?”

  “Yes. You did.”

  “Lovely.”

  “You’ve been drugged, Mr. Callahan,” I said softly. “So that we can use you and do things that we shouldn’t be proud of. But when it’s all over, some of us will walk away better than how we came into this game.”

  “Good,” he said with a bright smile. “Let’s begin this game, then.”

  Chapter 1

  Amelia

  He was sitting at one of the blackjack tables, his dark expression letting the whole room know that he wasn’t terribly happy with the way things were going. But, again, that was already obvious. He’d been losing fairly steadily for the last few hours.

  “He’s pretty, isn’t he?”

  I blushed, turning away as I picked up a fresh tray of drinks. “Just a customer,” I said.

  “‘Just a customer,’” Joy, my coworker said. “Yeah. But he also happens to be the son of the guy who owns this place.”

  “Ian Callahan? He’s not old enough to have a son.”

  “Ian isn’t the owner; he’s also the owner’s son. No, that’s Kyle Callahan.”

  “Kyle?”

  “His father is Brian Callahan…you know, CEO of MCorp in Boston? That guy who was arrested last month on RICO charges?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Brian Callahan owns this place. Ian just manages everything for him with Mickey. And that,” she said, pointing to the man at the blackjack tables who was losing so badly, “is Kyle, his son. From what I understand, Kyle, Ian, and several of their siblings are adopted, which explains why he looks almost nothing like Ian.”

  I nodded, my thoughts suddenly whirling. “Does that mean he’s got a trust fund, like Ian?”

  “I suppose so. From what people around here have been saying, he’s worth quite a bit. Never fails to pay his gambling debts even when they’re in the thousands. And he tips really well. Last time he was here, he gave me a hundred dollar bill as a tip. And Lacy, on the day shift? She said that he once gave her over a thousand.”

  The subject of our conversation shoved his hand across his chips, cursing loud enough to make it pretty clear that this hand hadn’t gone any better than the last few. He sat back and studied the dealer—who was trying to look indifferent, but his amusement was dancing in his eyes—trying to decide if he should go one more round.

  “He likes to pick a girl and lavish her with dinner and drinks when he’s done for the day,” Joy said near my ear, as she headed out with her own tray of fresh drinks. “Last night was Candi. She says he has quite a talented tongue. And the night before was Miranda. She told me that he’s like the Energizer Bunny…he keeps going and going and going.” She laughed at the shock on my face. “That’s a wonderful thing, my dear, chaste friend. Maybe he’ll chose you tonight.”

  She winked as she walked away.

  I delivered my drinks, hyper-aware of the sounds coming from the blackjack table. People were standing around, egging him on. They seemed interested in watching him go all in, but he was coming up with all these excuses as to why he shouldn’t. I watched, fascinated by his charm. Even though he was clearly annoyed, he was being incredibly polite to these strangers.

  “Hello, little lady,” he said to one woman, who was standing just beside him with a man who looked like her grandfather—though I was pretty sure the man was her husband. “Would you mind coming a little closer? Maybe your nearness will impart a little luck on me.”

  She giggled, but sidled up closer to him, resting her hand, almost hesitantly, on his shoulder. He smiled up at her before asking for another hit. The card he’d wanted came up, and the crowd cheered as he raked in a significant amount of chips for the win.

  He spotted me as I sidled up to the table, dropping off a drink for one of the other players.

  “Could I get a vodka and cranberry?” he asked, a touch of a Bostonian accent making his words slightly warmer.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I walked away, sliding my tips into my pocket before returning the tray to the bar and calling out a new set of orders. When I returned to the blackjack table, he was watching, his warm eyes like a bath of caramel rushing over my flesh. I’d never seen a man quite as handsome as he was. There were a lot of people who came and went through this town, a lot of them rich and dressed in clothes that I couldn’t afford in a year of tips, let alone the paltry salary I drew from this dead-end job. But none of them were quite as handsome as he was, even the occasional celebrity we had come through here.

  I could feel my hands shake as I set the glass in front of him.

  “Thank you,” he said softly, his eyes sliding slowly over me. He dropped a handful of bills on my tray, winking before he turned back to his game.

  Mickey came up behind me a little less than an hour later.

  “What time are you off tonight, Amy?”

  “Midnight.”

  “I can have Joy finish your shift.”

  “Why?”

  Mickey—he was a short, stocky guy, who looked like a caricature of all the mob guys in all the movies Hollywood has ever made—smiled as he ran his hand nervously over his well-greased, slicked-back hair. The smile was clearly forced.

  “I know you don’t like this kind of thing, but one of our VIP guests would like to take you to dinner.”

  “Which VIP?”

  “Mr. Callahan.” He leaned a little closer, the stink of his sweat reaching my nostrils just before the overwhelming woodiness of his cologne. “As in Callahan Industries? The people who own this place?”

  I glanced at the blackjack table, but Kyle Callahan wasn’t there anymore.

  “He asked for me?”

  Mickey inclined his head. “I know you don’t like this stuff, but this guy—”

  “It’s fine. I’ll go.”

  Mickey’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

  I shrugged. “He’s the owner’s son, right?”

  Mickey’s eyes widened slightly, but he smiled. “That’s right. So, why don’t you run along, go pretty yourself up, and go to the Presidential Suite at eleven?”

  “Okay.”

  Mickey’s eyes seemed like they were ready to pop out of his head as he watched me put my tray down and head for the door. He really was expecting a fight, and that shouldn’t have surprised me. I did fight him whenever he suggested such things. I wasn’t a prostitute, and I wasn’t going to pretend I was. Sleeping with the guests was something the other girls did quite willingly, but I still insisted on holding onto the tattered cloth of my dignity. I hadn’t wanted to take this job, and I hadn’t wanted to even come to this God forsaken city.

  But this was different. This guy could be the answer to my prayers.

  I dro
ve home to my crappy, little, economy-sized apartment and quickly stripped, jumping into the shower. I smelled like the bottom of a booze bottle, one of the perks of working as a cocktail waitress. The other was the bruises on my ass from all the guys who thought it was okay to pinch me. But bruises on my ass were a lot better than bruises on other parts of my anatomy, I supposed. Wouldn’t they be amazed if they knew the truth about me? Most of these guys assumed I was just like the other girls, willing to do just about anything to make a buck or two extra. The truth was, I needed this job and I desperately needed the money I made from it. I had expenses, expenses most of these people would never understand. My life was not as simple as they might believe.

  I wasn’t a high school dropout like Joy. I was valedictorian at my high school—and nearly graduated college summa cum laude.

  I wasn’t a single mother like Callie—not that there was anything wrong with that.

  I wasn’t a drug addict or in recovery of any kind.

  I didn’t run away from an abusive father or a mother who drank her breakfast. I missed my family with everything I had.

  I wasn’t any of those things. I’d lived a life of privilege and comfort. When things changed, I could have turned my back on the struggle my father found himself fighting. But I didn’t. I was here because it was the only way I could help.

  And the kind of money Kyle Callahan had, the kind of influence his family had, could change everything. I could fix things for my dad.

  I had to fix things for my dad. After all, it was my fault he was in the mess he was in.

  I showered quickly and looked myself in the mirror. I wasn’t a bad-looking girl. I had dark hair that used to sport these perfect blond highlights, but now they were faded and sort of brass-colored these days. But I had a good figure—even if my breasts were a little bigger than I would have preferred and my ass was a little flatter than I would have liked. At least my belly was flat and the scar that ran along my hip wasn’t all that visible anymore. It was a stupid accident, a horse-riding incident. I’d hit the metal fence and it had ripped the flesh from my hip. But it’d healed nicely and the scar, as I said, was barely visible anymore. I had a long, straight nose, a few freckles scattered along my cheekbones that were easily hidden with a little foundation, and blue eyes that most guys seemed to find exciting. I didn’t see what was so exciting, but my college boyfriend used to go on and on about them.