by L. A. Casey
Is that why she didn’t ask me to go with her?
“I mean, I guess that makes sense.”
Morgan turned back to the computer and began typing away again.
“Are you doin’ anythin’ fun today?”
“No,” I answered. “I’ll probably go around to my parents’ house or one of me friends.”
Morgan chuckled. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Stay on the move constantly,” he answered. “From what I’ve gathered from you, you’re always around your ’friends’ gafs. You should host for a change, let them come to you.”
I blinked. “I guess I’ve never thought about it.”
“Would they not come around?” Morgan questioned. “You sound doubtful.”
“No, I’m not. It’s just … I’ve just always gone to them. They don’t come to me.”
“Oh.”
Hearing that outlaid made my friendships sound one-sided, but I knew they weren’t.
“Don’t two of your friends live upstairs, though?”
I hesitated. “Yeah.”
“They come by, right?”
“No, not really.”
“Oh.”
That was twice he’d said “oh” in the space of thirty seconds, and I found that this conversation was beginning to hurt my head.
“It’s weird about your lad’s brothers, though. I thought they’d drop around to check on you every so often.”
My frowned deepened. “What d’ye mean?”
“Well,” he began, “from what you’ve told me about them … they’re great lads and always are very involved with family.”
“Yeah, they are.”
“Then why don’t they call you or drop by to see you?”
At the moment, my tongue felt like it tripled in size.
“They have jobs and babies and—”
“And no time for you?”
I stared at Morgan for a long moment before I looked down at my sketchpad that sat on my lap. I didn’t know what to say to him. A huge part of me wanted to enforce that it was no big deal, but another part of me felt saddened that my friends really seemed that they didn’t have time for me. Whenever I saw them, I was the one who had to go around and see them; they never came to see me. I wasn’t sure why I never saw this before, and I wasn’t sure why my mind suddenly stressed over it so much.
“All that happened to me,” Morgan continued with a shrug. “Me friend had a baby with his bird, and it took about a year, but eventually, I realised he had cut me out of his life slowly but surely.”
I shook my head instantly.
“You don’t know me friends,” I said with confidence. “They wouldn’t do that to me.”
“I thought that too,” he mumbled, clearly thinking of his friend and their once friendship.
“I’m sure they’ll phone me and drop by when they get the chance,” I pressed. “Me friends don’t really know boundaries. Bronagh can show up at any time, and it’d be normal.”
“I hope so,” Morgan said. “It’d suck for you to lose friends that seem like family.”
I wasn’t sure why, but Morgan’s words made me feel sick. Logically, I was confident that I didn’t have anything to worry about, but a nagging voice in the back of my mind agreed with Morgan. Any one of my friends could have called or sent me a text message to see how I was or if I was okay because it wasn’t normal for me to go a day without speaking to them, especially Bronagh.
With that on my mind, I dialled her number.
“Hey,” I said when she answered. “What’s up?”
“Nothin’,” she answered. “Just chillin’ with the girls. What’re you doin’?”
I glanced at Morgan who was working away.
“I’m just takin’ a break from workin’ and figured I’d call you.”
“Are you comin’ by later?”
I hesitated. “Why don’t you come ’round to my apartment, I’ll make dinner.”
“I’m too tired,” Bronagh answered. “I went to me appointment today and all the waitin’ around in the hospital drained me. Georgie is actin’ the maggot too. Can’t you just come ’round to mine? You can help me with ’er.”
I frowned.
“You want me to come ’round to help with Georgie?”
“Of course.” Bronagh chuckled. “You’re super auntie Alannah.”
My frown deepened.
“Yeah,” I said. “Super auntie Alannah.”
Bronagh yawned, loudly.
“So let me ask you somethin’,” I said, shifting in my seat. “Do ye’know what Damien is doin’ with Kane?”
Silence.
“Bronagh?”
She cleared her throat. “What d’ye mean?”
I could hear the doubt in her voice, and it made me feel ill.
“Damien was busy doin’ somethin’ with Kane last night, and he never came to stay over, but he won’t tell me what he was doin’. I thought maybe you’d know.”
“I don’t know,” she answered too quickly for it to be the truth. “I’ve no idea.”
I frowned. “Okay, Bee.”
“I’ve gotta go,” she said. It was the first time I’d ever felt brushed aside by her. “Talk to you later.”
“Okay, I’ll—”
I cut myself off when I realised the line went dead because Bronagh hung up on me. I pulled my phone away from my ear and stared at it like it was a foreign object. She had never hung up on me before, brushed me aside so easily, or blatantly lied to me as she had just done. My mind went into overdrive, and to stop myself from creating a problem, I phoned Aideen and Keela, but they didn’t answer me, and neither did Branna. All three of them hung up on me; I knew that because the call rang out, then suddenly cut off like they pressed the decline button. Bronagh said she was with them, so they obviously had heard her on the phone with me.
Doubt instilled itself in my mind as I thought of my friends. Instantly, my mind separated me from them and picked apart every little thing that was different about us until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Bronagh was the fire, Branna was the calm, Keela was the fun, Aideen was the wild, and me? I was nothing. I didn’t fit in with these women. They knew it, I knew it, even the brothers knew it, but none of them seemed to mind.
I did, though.
I minded that there was always a lingering feeling in my subconscious that I was the odd one out, like they all knew something I didn’t. All the hushed conversations I’ve had to endure, all the confusing answers I received when I asked a question about the brothers’ past, the abrupt end to a sentence whenever I entered the room to now being lied to when I asked a simple question.
My ‘friends’ and boyfriend were keeping something from me; the only question was ... what?
“I don’t think I should leave.”
I looked at Morgan and tried to focus my attention on him.
“I’m fine, Morgan.”
“You’re not,” he argued softly. “I can tell you’re not.”
“Okay, I’m not particularly great today, but it’s nothin’ I can’t handle. I promise.”
He hesitated. “Are you goin’ to go around to your mates?”
“Probably.”
“Will you talk to them about what’s botherin’ you?”
It was my turn to hesitate.
“You won’t, will you?” he asked, seemingly shocked. “No matter how much you doubt them, you won’t confront them … will you?”
“Confront them about what?”
He was confusing me more than I already was. I thought he was going to answer my question, but Morgan started to laugh. Not like an amused laugh, more like a manic laugh. One that kept on building and building and had no end in sight. It frightened me. Morgan, at that moment, frightened me.
“Your shift is over,” I said, reminding him he had to leave. “I don’t wanna keep you any longer than necessary.”
“You aren’t keeping me from anything,” he assured
me. “You are why I’m here.”
His voice changed slightly, and he pronounced his words clearer, which drew my brows together.
“Are you talkin’ about work?”
“No, Alannah, I’m not.”
Apprehension shot up my spine.
“I’m confused.”
“I know.” Morgan nodded. “I planned on keeping you confused and in doubt for as long as possible, but I pity you, angel.”
Angel?
“Okay, Morgan, you aren’t makin’ any sense.”
He sighed, long and deep.
“I can’t keep this shit up anymore.”
I stared at him, raising my brows.
“Morgan, what are you talking about?”
“My name isn’t Morgan Allen, angel.”
I stared at him, then I laughed.
“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” I shook my head. “Can we get back to work now if you aren’t leavin’?”
“I’ll gladly get back to work once we have a little chat.”
I looked up from my sketchpad.
“Why are you talkin’ in that accent?” I asked, perplexed. “I don’t get the joke if you’re makin’ one.”
“Alannah,” he said, his lips twitching. “You’re a sweetheart. Honestly, babe, a true sweetheart. I wanted to use you to hurt him, to hurt them, but fuck, you don’t have the backbone required to stand up to the lying assholes. No matter what I say to make you doubt them, you won’t confront them or leave them.”
I hurriedly began to pack my supplies away.
“I’ve no bloody idea what you’re talkin’ about. None.”
“I’m going to be straight with you, angel, because someone in your life should be.”
I paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” he pressed, “that your friends all lie to you, your boyfriend lies to you, and even your old man lied to you at one point about his affair. Your mom kept her cancer from you, but only until she and your dad decided on when to tell you. And since I’m part of your life, you should know that I lie to you, too.”
What the hell is he talking about?
I swallowed. “How did ye’know me ma had cancer, and that me da had an affair? I never told you any of those things.”
Morgan shrugged. “I hacked your phone.”
“You … You hacked me phone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To see if what I was doing was working.”
I blinked. “Morgan—”
“My name is not Morgan Allen.”
My head pounded.
“If it’s not Morgan Allen, then what is it?”
“Carter Miles.”
“Carter Miles?” I repeated.
“Yup.” He nodded. “I’m from New York, not Dublin, that was a lie.”
I frowned. “You’ve given me a really bad headache.”
Morgan, or Carter, laughed. “Baby, we haven’t even come close to the headache yet.”
“Okay, Carter,” I said, placing my hands on my hips. “If you’re really who you say you are, why lie to me?”
“I knew if I told you my real name, it would pull up a red flag with the brothers.”
“The brothers?”
“Yeah, the Slaters.”
I had to sit back down.
“What has this got to do with the Slater brothers?”
“Fucking everything, angel.”
I lifted my hands to my face and rubbed my eyes.
“Okay,” I said tentatively. “Just tell me why you’re here, and why you said you planned to keep me confused.”
“The Slaters … your boyfriend … they’re not who you think they are.”
“What? They have fake names, too?”
Morgan’s lips twitched, and I decided then that I would still think of him as Morgan, because calling him another name didn’t feel right.
“No, smartass.”
When he chuckled, I felt like he was playing some sort of massive joke on me, but then I remembered what he said about hacking my phone and the fact that he knew information about my parents that I hadn’t shared with him. That put me on edge and made me very wary of Morgan and how close he was to me.
“Who are they then?”
“People with a dark past,” Morgan answered. “A past they’ve neglected to share with you.”
I raised my brows.
“You, a complete stranger, know about their past?”
“I’m not a stranger to them, angel.”
“Stop callin’ me that,” I scowled. “And get to the point of all this.”
“I knew the Slaters back in New York. I grew up in the same compound as them.”
I sat back, shocked.
“You did?”
“Yes.” Morgan nodded. “I did.”
“Was the compound like, a street, or somethin’?”
“No, it was a compound.” He shrugged. “You know, a cluster of buildings surrounded by a big wall.”
“Damien said he grew up in a small community.”
Morgan snorted. “The compound wasn’t small and neither was the community. People came and went every day, but only a certain amount of us called the place home, though.”
“I don’t feel like you messin’ with me anymore.”
“Good, because I’m not.”
Sickness swirled in my abdomen as I realised the person sitting across from me, a person I let into my home, wasn’t who I thought he was.
“Are you goin’ to hurt me?”
“No,” he answered, and he sounded sincere. “I’d never hurt you. I’d never hurt anyone … once upon a time I probably would have, but not now.”
“Then who were you referrin’ to when you said you wanted to use me to hurt them?”
“The brothers,” Morgan answered. “I wanted to use you to get to them but not physically.”
My heart pounded in my chest as fear overcame me.
“Mentally?”
“Bingo.”
“But … why?”
“Because they killed my family.”
My lips parted with shock, and my breath left me in a strangled cough.
“Wh-what?”
“As I said, angel, you don’t know the Slaters like you think you do.”
I swallowed down the bile that rose up my throat.
“Then tell me what I don’t know.”
Morgan grinned, and leaned back in his chair.
“Sit back and relax, angel. Because shit is about to get real.”
“I’ll start from the beginning,” Morgan said, clasping his hands behind his head. “Just to give you a bit of backstory.”
I didn’t answer him; I only waited.
“How much do you know about the mafia?”
My heart just about exploded.
“Excuse me?”
“The mafia,” Morgan repeated. “How much do you know about that circle of people?”
“Absolutely nothin’.”
Morgan snickered. “I figured as much.”
“What has the mafia got to do—”
“The compound where I grew up, where the brothers grew up, was a mafia base, so to speak.”
My mouth went dry.
“The boss of the compound, my uncle Marco, worked with the mafia from time to time, different drug cartels, too. Wherever business was good and there was money to be made, my uncle dabbled in it.”
His uncle sounded absolutely terrifying to me.
“We ran things from drugs, weapons, underground fighting, to prostitution,” Morgan continued. “These were things the Slater brothers were all directly involved in.”
I lifted my hand and covered my mouth.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Yes,” Morgan nodded. “You do.”
“You could be lyin’!”
“But I’m not, and you know I’m not,” he answered. “This is the reason why you’re in the dark about that entire fucked-up family. They don’t want yo
u to know about their past because they don’t trust you with information that could land them in prison.”
“Shut up!”
“All the other women know,” Morgan pressed. “Bronagh, Aideen, Branna, and Keela. They’ve all been directly involved with the ’brothers’ past. Everyone but you … until now, that is.”
I covered my face with my hands and began to rock back and forth, trying to calm myself down.
“Morgan, listen to yourself. This doesn’t sound like real life.”
“To you it doesn’t because you weren’t born and raised in it, but this is the only life I’ve known, and I hate it.”
I dropped my hands but couldn’t stop them from trembling.
“You hate it?”
“More than anything.” Morgan nodded. “Once I leave this country, I’m going home and starting fresh. No more drugs, weapons … no more anything illegal. I want a normal life, and I’m going to have one even if it kills me.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I remained quiet.
“Growing up—” he then sighed “—I hung out with the twins a lot, but mostly I’d keep to myself. My older brother, Trent, loved the lifestyle, the drugs, the violence, the women. He lapped that shit up, and he was gunning to take over for Marco one day since our uncle had no kids of his own.”
Morgan’s eyes turned dark.
“But he never got the chance because your precious Slaters killed him and my uncle.”
“They couldn’t have,” I stressed. “Those men … they wouldn’t take someone’s life.”
Morgan humourlessly laughed.
“Kane has killed more than a few people, angel. Did you think he got his scars from a steady line of work?”
My lower lip trembled. “Stop it.”
“Don’t you want to know the truth?”
I did. God help me, but I did.
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
“Look.” Morgan frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you, so I’ll summarise everything you need to know instead of making a story out of it, okay?”
I could only nod my head in response.
“I know Damien told you his parents died in a car accident, but they didn’t. My uncle killed them both because they were traitors to our organisation. Out of all the brothers, Damien took their death the hardest. Trent was an asshole who loved to kick people when they were down, so he said some fucked-up shit to Damien about their parents deserving their faith, and a fight took place.”
