The Bride of Mackenzie Black: Not Just Royals Book 3

by Dahlia Rose

  Donnie had a swollen face and a few cuts, and his eyes widened when he saw Mac. Bouchey came out of the other room smoking a cigar casually and began watching him and Haile beat the hell out his men. Mac met his gaze and dropped the man nonchalantly as he assessed Bouchey. They’d grown up together, run in the same crowds, and now that Quinn was dead, Bouchey ran the underbelly that was Northumberland. Mac was supposed to be that man, but he had found that cheating and terrorizing innocent people did not suit him. Bouchey had gotten fat in the middle, but it was easy enough to see he still liked to do his own beatings. His knuckles had smears of blood on them; more than likely it was his brother's.

  “Never thought I’d see the day Mackenzie Black is back in town,” Bouchey’s voice had gotten more nasal, more than likely a deviated septum from having his nose broken. “Lord Haile, you back consorting with the lower class again, I see?”

  “Well, here I am, I came for Donnie,” Mac answered. “Don’t worry why Haile is here.”

  “Your brother owes a debt, you going to pay it?” Bouchey asked.

  “No, I’m going to take him home,” Mac watched his men groan and try to get up . . . slowly. “You or these idiots will not stop me.”

  “Oh, I might have some quarrel with that,” Bouchey put down his cigar and clenched his fists.

  “You really don’t want to do that,” Mac said in a deadly tone.

  Bouchey laughed. “What? You went to America and got soft, while I had to fight my way up from the scraps under the table to take the meat off the plate. Let’s see what you got, boy.”

  With a menacing sound that came from the back of his throat, Mac moved forward and his nemesis swung wide with a huge fist. Mac blocked him easily and delivered two solid punches to his torso that now felt like jelly from too much drinking and high living on other people’s money. Mac heard Bouchey retch, but that didn’t stop him from embarrassing the man in front of his people. By the time Mac was done, the man who'd held his brother was on the floor bleeding and Mac hadn’t even broken a sweat. Mac raised his fist again, but Haile caught his arm.

  “He’s down, mate,” Haile said bluntly.

  Mac grabbed Bouchey by the front of his shirt and dragged him up. “I’m taking my brother, and not a penny will leave my pocket to be stuffed in yours. If you come after him again, you’ll see how quickly I will respond. You want to see the bruiser come back, fuck with me and mine.”

  “You ready?” Haile asked as he came out of the room holding Donnie, and Mac let Bouchey fall to the ground in disgust.

  “Yeah, let’s go.” Mac led the way, and when they stepped outside the sun had crested in the morning sky.

  “Did Ma call you?” Donnie asked in excited gibberish. “Man, she must be pissed if she called you from America.”

  “Get in the truck,” Mac ordered and shoved him in the back seat while he and Haile got in front.

  “Ma must be pissed, I mean . . . I was just going to use the money to make us some more, Mac,” Donnie stammered. “I never sent her for the food vouchers. . . . But we had to eat.”

  As Haile pulled away Mac leaned over and grabbed Donnie. “You stupid . . . You’re almost thirty damn years old and still acting the fool. Ma shouldn’t be begging for food. I send enough, but you want to live a high life you don’t want to earn.”

  Donnie looked at him wildly, and his eyes seemed to brighten. “You’re the one who left, Mac, and then I had to take care of her. I could never live up to you in this bloody town. I had to strike out on my own . . . you never sent me money . . . ”

  “You struck out with Ma’s only means of support, the money I sent, and Dad’s pension?” Mac yelled. “I shouldn’t have to send a grown man money. You’re high right now or coming down off something real damn good. You should be in pain after the beating I know Bouchey put in your arse. But you’re acting like you don’t feel a thing.”

  “Mac,” Donnie’s voice cracked. “I know Ma called you, I’ll do better, I won’t take from her anymore.”

  Mac let Donnie go with a heavy sigh and turned to face the road. “Ma didn’t call me, Donnie, she’s in hospital. Ma had a stroke!”

  “Oh God, oh God, it’s my fault! I should’ve made sure she ate. . . . ” Donnie’s voice held agony, and Mac could see him put his head in his hands from the rearview mirror. Then he reached up suddenly and put his hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Tell me she’ll be okay, Mac, please!”

  Mac never turned around, but he placed his hand on his brother’s. “I hope so.”

  It was two weeks before Christmas, and his homecoming started out with a fight and now he was on the way to Queen Charlotte hospital to see if his mother would survive. The holidays always seemed to bring him trouble, and this was why he preferred to ignore it completely. Haile sped through the streets of Northumberland and the feeling of heaviness seemed to run from where his brother’s hand was to his entire body. How could he fix what was broken in Donnie? Mac knew he'd built his career and life in D.C. to portray how he built himself up from nothing. But deep down inside he was just as fucked-up as everyone else.

  * * * *

  He hated hospitals, the smell, the oppressive feel of them, and the pristine white walls. Not even the glass arboretum with its warmth and green, lush plants could alleviate the feeling of dread the hospital elicited in Mac. After quickly cleaning up Donnie the best they could in a bathroom, they headed to the third floor. Mac followed Haile’s brisk pace while Donnie trailed slowly along, shuffling his feet. Mac had to clench his fist to keep from throwing an annoyed glance behind him. His mother always babied Donnie, and even at almost thirty he still acted like a child.

  But Mac’s heart skipped a beat for another reason as they drew closer to the main nurses' desk of the third floor. The nurse who looked up at Haile as he approached then smiled and stood. She was exquisite, in his opinion, with skin like a cappuccino whipped-coffee drink and lips so full, with a hint of lipstick, that he wanted to sample them. Her hair was pinned in a bun at the back, but a few long, loose curls framed her face underneath her nurse's cap. Her blue nurse's uniform hugged generous curves, and if you ever had a fantasy about a sexy nurse, it would be her. He knew when they were on the ward they dressed in formal uniforms and in the emergency department they wore scrubs. The nurse came around the desk and gave Haile a hug, which caused Mac to remember their new tenant at the pub.

  “Nina Crane, this is Mackenzie Black and his brother Donnie Black. They are Helen’s sons,” Haile introduced them.

  “Nice to meet you both.” Her voice was sweet with a soft huskiness to it that only seemed to be accentuated by her accent, as she held out her hand to them both. She eyed Donnie, noting his bruises. “Does he need to be seen?”

  “He should be fine,” Mac answered. “Donnie got into a scrape.”

  “Mmm-hmmm,” was her answer.

  “How is my mother?” Mac asked, changing the subject.

  She looked at him sadly. “Barely holding on, I’m sorry. I’ll take you to the room and have the doctor come talk to you. We are not allowed to give treatment options or medical information without a physician present.”

  “No, you tell me,” Mac demanded and then added, “Please.”

  Nina gave a quick nod. “Come with me, please.”

  They followed her to the room where his mother lay in the dim light looking completely frail in a bed that seemed too big for her. Gone was the bigger-than-life presence that could take over a conversation even if she put on airs. She'd lost so much weight, and he felt guilty knowing she was lying like she was due to Donnie’s habits. But he spoke to her even if it was infrequently and she never mentioned . . . It was her pride, he knew it. Helen Black would never let anyone know she wasn’t doing well, not even her son.

  Nina started to speak. “Mr. Black . . .”

  “Call me Mac,” he interjected.

  “Mac,” she amended her words. “Your mother had a massive stroke that prevented oxygen from reaching her brain. We don
’t know how long she was home before her neighbor found her, so when the doctor administered a drug that could reverse some of the effects, it did not work, because it has to be given intravenously within the first two hours or it has no effect.”

  “Which means she was alone, on the ground, for hours before anyone found her,” Mac surmised and cast an angry glare at his brother, who wouldn’t come out of the corner. “So, what’s the prognosis?”

  “Your mother will not wake up, there is no brain function, no reaction to light or pain stimulation,” Nina said.

  “You hurt my mother!” Donnie rushed out of the corner, and his reaction caused a cry to escape from Nina, who jumped back startled.

  “Sit your stupid ass down,” Mac snarled and pushed him in a chair. He turned to Nina. “I’m sorry. He won’t hurt you, I swear it, I am so very sorry.”

  Haile put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “He’s just upset, Nina.”

  She nodded, but Mac saw the fear in her eyes, and it made him angry. After a deep breath she continued. “To alleviate your fears, what I meant by pain stimuli is that we basically do a pin prick at the bottom of her feet. If her brain had registered it, it would've caused a reaction, for we all shy away from pain or lights in our eyes. She had no reaction, and brain scans confirmed it.”

  “So, she’s dead,” Mac confirmed.

  “I’m sorry, but essentially yes,” Nina confirmed. “She never regained consciousness.”

  “But she’s breathing,” Donnie said weakly.

  “The machines are doing that for her,” Nina explained gently. “We are required to do that until the family decides what’s the best course of action.”

  “Then let them breathe for her until she wakes up,” Donnie had begun to cry.

  “Donnie, she’s never going to come out of this,” Mac explained. “Ma never wanted to live like this.”

  “But how can I make it up to her if she’s dead?” Donnie sat down and wiped his face. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Mac bent down and put his hand on his brother’s shoulders. “She’s not there anymore, this is her shell being kept alive by machines.” He turned his attention to nurse Nina. “Please get the doctor; we will sign the papers to have her removed from life support.”

  “I’ll go get him right away,” Nina said and hesitated at the door. “Again, I am so very sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news.”

  “You didn’t do this,” Mac said. “Thank you.”

  “But I did this, Mac. I should have been there instead of pissing away our money,” Donnie sobbed.

  Mac tried to comfort his brother. “She was probably sick and didn’t say a word to a soul. Ma wouldn’t want you to blame yourself, and neither do I.”

  Twenty agonizing minutes passed before the doctor finally came in with a stack of papers and a million apologies. He repeated what Nina had said but added his own medical jargon to it. Mac signed the papers, and they watched as he, along with Nina, turned off all the machines that beeped and made whispering sounds as they inhaled and exhaled for his mother. It took another two hours until Helen Black took her last breath and exited the world as Mac held one of her hands and Donnie grasped the other.

  Mac kissed her cheek. “Rest easy, Ma. I hope you have more peace in the next life than you did here.”

  Eleven in the morning arrived before he could leave the hospital to make arrangements for his mother to be cremated and a small service. It all took time. By the time he got Donnie settled in a safe house that Haile had to ensure he didn’t get into trouble and got to the cottage where he’d be staying, Mac fell into bed suffering from complete and utter exhaustion. He was grateful for the darkness that surrounded him and no dreams as he slept. He’d had enough reality in the last twenty-four hours and just wanted to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  “So that’s Mac Black,” Nina murmured as she took a sip of her gin and tonic at the bar and looked to where he and Haile sat in a booth. “He seems tortured, so alone.”

  “From what Haile and Jasper have told us, he had a rough go of it growing up and left because of it,” Marisol replied.

  It was her custom now to get off work and grab a drink or two in her uniform at the bar before heading upstairs. It was her blessing to meet Marisol at a time when living with three roommates was becoming more uncomfortable because none of them meshed. The offer of the cozy, little apartment over the bar was her lifesaver; it meant she wouldn't end up in the Northumberland prison system. She’d gained a great friend in Marisol, her husband, and their extended friends. Even so, this would be her second Christmas away from Barbados and she loved the holiday. So, her new home away from home was already decorated in November and she had a tree. Plus, she had lent Mari a hand in getting the pub all decked out for the holidays.

  “He had to be the rock that entire time I was telling him about his mother’s condition,” Nina told Mari. “His brother acts like a child and was obviously on drugs. Men don’t get to act like that in my culture; I wanted to slap some sense into him.”

  Mari grinned. “That’s usually frowned upon as a nurse.”

  She took a sip of her drink from the glass tumbler. “I know, but still, it was really hard on Mac, I could tell. I felt sorry for them—him mostly—because it’s obvious he had no clue his mother was sickly and his brother wasn’t caring for her.”

  “Yet he made sure Donnie was safe,” Mari shook her head. “There’s more to him than meets the eye.”

  “I guess so,” Nina murmured.

  She focused on the man who sat across from his friend. Mac had dark looks, almost dangerous, with a rugged jaw that sported a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were an unusual dark gray, like a variation of an onyx gemstone. While he tried to keep them empty, they showed more emotion than he thought. His shoulders were broad and tapered down to lean hips. The small cut over his left eye was hardly noticeable, but as a nurse Nina saw it—and the bruised knuckles. He had literally fought all his life and, judging by the redness and freshly scraped flesh, recently to get his brother home.

  “Will he be going back to the U.S. after everything is settled with his mother?” Nina asked. Mac looked up and caught her staring, so she looked quickly away.

  “I think Jasper and Haile are going to convince him to stay,” Mari answered.

  “Hope they do, 'cos that boy needs to come home and those three were inseparable when they were boys,” Mrs. Humphreys was wiping her hands as she passed behind Mari at the bar.

  “How did you hear our conversation from the kitchen with the music on?” Mari demanded.

  Mrs. Humphreys winked. “I hear everything, like I know Zeva and Jasper are on the way with Miss Abigail for dinner with you two. Haile requested liver and onions.” Mari pressed a hand to her stomach and looked visibly sick as Mrs. Humphreys looked victorious. “I knew it.”

  Mari feigned ignorance. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Nina chuckled. “I would know, if I was a nurse or not.”

  Mrs. Humphreys stepped closer while Mr. Moore, who was in his usual seat at the bar, eyed them. “How far along are you?”

  “My assessment from the way she turned green, I’d say a few weeks,” Nina supplied.

  Mari nodded. “I haven’t told Haile yet, I wanted to wait . . .”

  “Oy, Haile, these hens are cackling about you!” Mr. Moore said smugly. “I read lips.”

  “Obviously not well,” Mrs. Humphreys threw a bar towel at him.

  Haile and Mack came over to Nina and Mari's table just as Zeva came through the door. She was holding a now one-year-old Abigail as Jasper propped the door open while carrying the baby bag. The baby girl squealed in delight and held her hands out to Haile, who took her and lifted her high in the sky. Nina noted how Mac watched with a small smile on his face, but it never really travelled to his eyes. You need to stop looking at him, she warned herself as he caught her staring yet again.

  After greetings all around, Nina felt lik
e she was part of a new type of family that was filled with warmth and love. Her family was strict—difficult at best—and chaos usually followed them. When the opportunity to branch out on her own was offered, Nina had jumped at the chance. While she missed her home, she didn’t miss the arguments or the family drama. Mac was introduced to Abigail, who was hesitant because she’d never met him but who nevertheless held on to the finger he offered her.

  Mrs. Humphreys nudged Mari. “Tell him.”

  “Not now,” Mari answered between a smile and gritted teeth.

  “Tell me what?” Haile looked from woman to woman.

  “Oh, that thing,” Zeva smiled widely.

  “Seems a bit unfair all the women knows and we don’t,” Mac spoke up.

  “I tried to read their lips but only got your name,” Mr. Moore said mournfully.

  Mrs. Humphreys rolled her eyes. “Oh please, the only thing that keeps you on that barstool is years of practice while drunk. You keep out of this.”

  Mari sighed. “I was going to wait until later when we were alone, but apparently that never happens in this damn town.”

  “It really doesn’t,” Mac agreed.

  “Haile, you are going to be a father,” Mari said primly.

  Nina watched his face go blank while his friends clapped him on the back and offered him congratulations.

  “What do you mean?” Haile finally said.

  “The boy’s gone daft,” Mrs. Humphreys threw up her hands.

  Mari cupped his cheeks and brought him close. “I am with child . . . Pregnant, you have planted a bun in the oven. You’re fixin’ to be a daddy.”

  Zeva snorted. “Fixin' . . . ”

  Mari gave her a look. “Don’t you start!”

  Haile lifted her against him and swung her around. “Right on schedule, my timeline was perfect.”

  “Still with the timeline,” Mac was smiling.

  “Timeline?” Nina asked in confusion.

  “It’s from his crazy scheme when he was trying to win Mari’s heart,” Jasper explained with a laugh.