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His Guilt: A Mafia Romance (Downing Family Book 6)

Page 11

by Cassie Wild


  I might have heaved out a sigh of relief, except I caught sight of Briar.

  She smiled…and headed straight for me.

  I woke up to the ringing of my phone.

  It was an incessant, annoying sound, and I was tempted to throw it across the room.

  If that didn’t shut the fucking thing up, I’d get up and smash the damn piece of shit until it was nothing but broken bits of plastic and wire.

  It was quiet.

  Five minutes later, it started up again.

  Swearing, I grabbed it and went to throw it. And stopped. I made the mistake of looking at the screen of the latest piece-of-shit throwaway phone I’d picked up.

  Two days ago, I’d contacted Marcos from this particular cell.

  I’d scrambled the number, and he’d known I’d done it—had even commented on it.

  I’d given him the same prattle, then added on that Jerrel had been a pain in my arse, and I’d just as soon avoid him so I wouldn’t be using my old number until I knew it was safe enough to do so.

  The fucker had tracked me down anyway.

  I could have avoided that. I’d known this was a possibility, but I’d decided against taking the more complete evasive tactics because I’d feared it might tip him off if I completely dropped off the grid, especially since he had people who could locate Briar at the blink of an eye.

  The anger burned hot inside me as he greeted me in an overly cheerful voice. “Feliz Navidad, Cormac!”

  “Same to you, Marcos. I guess.”

  “What do you mean, you guess? It’s a beautiful Christmas Day. We even have some snow outside.”

  I flicked a disinterested look at the window. The snow had started falling not long after we’d left Seamus’s house, so the news came as no surprise.

  “I’m not much on holidays, Marcos.”

  “How about bonuses, my friend?” he asked. “Are you much on bonuses?”

  My ears sharpened. “What do you mean?”

  “You gave me good intel. A team of my men broke into one of Seamus Downing’s smaller businesses in Philadelphia. We also raided one of the new businesses he’s established down in Miami,” he added slyly. “We helped ourselves to close to a million dollars worth of weapons. A nice haul for a few hours of work.”

  “Alright, then,” I said, forcing a note of satisfaction into my voice. “How did it go down?”

  “Well enough.” Marcos sounded unconcerned as he added, “I lost a few men. There were more guards on the building than I would have expected after you said they wouldn’t have many employees around, but I was prepared. You did, after all, warn me that they kept extra security on hand.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I fought to level my breathing so he wouldn’t hear anything that might tip him off.

  “Guess your guys took some of their people out.”

  “Nearly all of them,” Marcos said, unhidden glee in his voice. “We took down ten of their stupid fuckers in Philadelphia, and six down here. I’m giving an extra thousand a head for each of their men.”

  “What?”

  His malevolent chuckle drifted over the line. “You earned it. Seamus Downing is such a soft fucker. He gets attached to his men. One of them had been with him for over twenty years. We got both the old man and his grandson. This will hurt him.”

  I felt a little sick. Passing a hand over my eyes, I fought to level out before responding.

  I had time, though.

  Marcos wasn’t done.

  “I’m going to take my time before I let him know who was responsible, of course. But I might send flowers to their funerals.” He laughed again. “Perhaps I’ll include a message. What should it say, Cormac?”

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with something appropriate,” I said in a weary voice as I stared at the thick pile of carpet under my feet.

  I suddenly wanted to see Briar. I wanted it so badly I hurt with it.

  “Yes,” Marcos murmured. “I will. It’s too bad I’m not sure I’m done with you yet. Otherwise, I’d just put your name to the card, along with the words…Sorry you’re such a stupid fuck, Seamus. I think he’d get the point then. Don’t you?”

  The red wash of blood flooded my vision.

  “I’m sure he would.” Clenching my fist, I squeezed my eyes closed until the dull roar of rage ebbed back enough for me to think.

  I had to think right now.

  I had to stay calm.

  There were too many lives on the line. If Marcos realized I no longer gave a flying fuck about his money—or this job—he’d make a move, and the first person he’d go after?

  Briar.

  So I had to keep it together.

  “You know, you didn’t have to come up here.”

  I met her eyes over the cafeteria table.

  Considering it was Christmas Day, the place was a lot more crowded than I would have expected.

  And the scent of food was a lot more appealing than I would have thought.

  She’d dragged me through the line, nagging me to try this and that, and now, plates loaded down with roast turkey, potatoes, gravy, and green beans, we sat across from each other in a public space.

  What I wanted to do was have her some place to myself so I could touch her, hold her.

  “What’s the look for?” she asked as she scooped up a bite of potatoes.

  “Just enjoying the look of you,” I said, giving myself an extra few seconds to really take in her pretty face.

  She blushed.

  I’d never tire of seeing her blush, the way it started out low on her neck, then spread upward until her face glowed a subtle pink.

  “Stop it,” she mumbled with a roll of her eyes.

  “Well, you asked,” I told her pragmatically.

  She made a snorting sound under her breath as she reached for her soda. “What have you done today?”

  “Slept in and wished you were with me,” I told her with a quick shrug.

  Her face softened.

  “I had a good time last night.” I lowered my attention to my food. This part wasn’t as easy. I was a good liar when it came to the job, but this part…it wasn’t the job, and I didn’t do real emotion well. Clearing my throat, I stabbed a bite of turkey and shoved it into my mouth. It actually tasted pretty good, although I knew it would be like sawdust in my belly once I swallowed. “With your family, I mean. How are they? You talked to them any today?”

  “Not much.”

  From under my lashes, I saw her shrug, her head lowered as she scooped up another bite of food. “Daria and Brooks texted to say Merry Christmas, and so did Dad. Knowing Declan, Isabel, and Sean, they’ll sleep in until two or three.”

  Throat dry, I reached for my soda and took a drink.

  She glanced at me, a careful, neutral look on her face. “Did you call your parents?”

  “I…ah…” Self-conscious now, I took a second drink, then a third. “Actually, yeah. But they were on their way out the door. They’ve started helping out at a local shelter on Christmas. Serving up lunch and the like. They asked me to call back later tonight.”

  “Will you?”

  At her softly voiced question, I found myself at odds. I wanted to call back. But here I was, putting this woman I cared for in a bad position, whether she knew it or not. My mum would box my ears. I had no idea what my da would do.

  I was ashamed of myself.

  If I could have found any other way out of this…

  “Cormac?”

  Setting my jaw, I met her eyes. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided.”

  “If you want to wait until I’m home…”

  I offered a tight smile. “Yeah,” I told her. “Maybe.”

  But that wouldn’t make it any easier.

  If anything, it would make it harder.

  Eighteen

  Briar

  I rolled over, still half asleep and glanced at the clock.

  For a minute, I panicked, jerking upright, my sluggish brain telling me I was late f
or work.

  Then reality caught up with me.

  My entire work schedule was off because of the holidays, covering for the more senior staff who’d wanted off for Christmas or New Year’s Day, working a couple of extra shifts and having a few extra days off during the week.

  Including today.

  It was already ten o’clock, but I was still tired, so I rolled onto my belly and shoved my face into my pillow.

  Right as I was drifting back into that sweet twilight between wakefulness and sleep, my cell phone rang.

  Groaning, I picked it up.

  If it was the hospital, I wasn’t answering. I was too damn worn out. But the number on the screen was Isabel’s.

  I almost didn’t answer anyway, but remembering how she’d felt last night, I decided maybe I should. Rolling onto my back, I swiped my thumb across the screen. “Hey, Isabel. You feeling any better?”

  “Sounds like I woke you up. And actually, a little. I…um…I had Sean stop at an open pharmacy, and I got some of those ginger pops. Fortunately, he’s still kind of oblivious.”

  I felt guilty, knowing something so important my brother didn’t. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I asked, “Why haven’t you told him?”

  “I…” She hesitated, then huffed out a breath. “I wasn’t really even sure until you mentioned it. It’s not like I have regular periods.”

  Frowning, I sat up. The blanket and sheets puddled around my waist, and the cool air had goosebumps breaking out across my bare flesh. The skimpy camisole and panties I’d worn to bed had been perfectly fine while I was under the covers pressed up against Cormac, but he wasn’t in bed with me now. I climbed out of bed. “Hold on a minute, Iz.”

  I checked the bathroom because I didn’t want to have this conversation where anybody might overhear me. He wasn’t in the bathroom, and a quick peek out the front window told me that his car was gone.

  “You weren’t sure. Does this mean you haven’t taken a pregnancy test?” I asked before settling back on the bed.

  “I…ah…” She stammered for a few moments, then finally huffed out an annoyed breath. “Well, no. Like I said, I wasn’t sure.”

  “That’s why you take tests, Iz. This is kind of something you want to be sure about. You need to be on vitamins and stuff.”

  “I already take them,” she told me. “I have to. I’m anemic because I just don’t get enough iron in my diet, being a dancer and having to watch my weight and all.”

  “All the more reason you need to know,” I told her gently. Rubbing my temple, I sat back on the bed and pulled the blankets up around me. “And you don’t need to be sure before you tell Sean…unless you’re worried about what he’ll say.”

  “It’s not that.” She hesitated before adding, “Not exactly. This just happened so fast, you know. We haven’t even been married a year. I’m only twenty-two, Briar. I don’t know how to be a mom.”

  “I don’t think anybody does until they actually become a mom. Look…you need to take a test and find out for sure. And you need to talk to Sean. He should know.”

  “Yeah.” Isabel sounded despondent. “I know. Really, I was going to pick up a test and talk to him last night, but while we were driving to the drugstore, Declan called and…”

  I waited, sensing the edge in her voice.

  “What did Declan want, Isabel?”

  “You know, Sean will throttle me for talking to you about this. Do any of them realize you’ve gone and figured them out?”

  The question was such a sharp deviation from what we’d been talking about that it knocked me off balance for a few seconds. Tension crept up my neck, settling there in a way that assured me I’d have a headache very shortly. I didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. It was obvious.

  I had to clear my throat before I could speak, and even then, my voice was faint, tight with strain. “Brooks knows.”

  “Nobody else?”

  “Apparently you know,” I retorted, annoyed now. “He might have mentioned it to Daria. Probably has. He won’t be the one to mention it to anybody else, though. You know Sean. He sucks at keeping stuff quiet from Dad and Declan. And both of them still have this idea in their heads that I’m the pampered princess who must be protected.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “I know that feeling.”

  A sense of kinship rose up in me. “The two of us have that much in common, don’t we?”

  “Guess so.”

  Silence stretched out, shattering into splinters when Isabel cleared her throat, then laughed. The sound was awkward and uneasy, and I knew I wasn’t the only one left feeling on edge as the sound faded. “Anyway, as I was saying…I was going to tell Sean, but then Declan called. I guess none of them called you, but somebody broke into a liquor store in Northern Liberties…Sean...well, he…um…he mentioned the owner and your dad were friends. Mentioned that you did a lot of shopping there.”

  The bottom of my stomach dropped out.

  “Are you talking about Franco’s?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice was softer now. “He said Brooks would probably talk to you, but…”

  “But what?” I demanded. Isabel stayed quiet, clearly troubled by something. “Spit it out!” I was shouting now, but I couldn’t seem to stop it.

  “The owner’s dead,” she said quietly.

  I felt sick. Pressing the heel of my hand to my temple, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. But just as I managed to gain my feet, the strength drained out of me. “Isabel…why…I mean…I didn’t even know Dad knew Frankie. Are you sure? Why are you calling me about this?”

  “Your dad was Frankie’s silent partner,” she said, her voice subdued. “I don’t know all the details, but Sean said Frankie helped him out with…storage and stuff.”

  “Storage.” I felt cold inside. “You mean weapons, don’t you?”

  Her answer was so quiet, I barely caught it. “Probably.”

  Blood roared in my ears, and I felt sick.

  Frankie.

  An image of his broad, friendly face flashed in front of my eyes. And he stored weapons? My father’s weapons?

  I cleared my throat. “What happened? Does anybody know? Was he robbed?”

  “No.” Isabel’s voice sounded more guarded now. “Look, maybe I…Brooks will probably give you a call. I should have just minded my own business—”

  “If you hang up this phone, I’m getting in my car and driving over there,” I told her. “And if you don’t talk to me, then I’ll track down Sean, Brooks, Declan, or my dad. Somebody will talk to me.”

  She sighed, the sound defeated. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  I quietened my tone. “What’s going on, Isabel?”

  “Sean was…” her voice hitched a little. “Sean and Declan were talking. They sounded convinced it was Marcos again. But it can’t be. My brother surely isn’t running around causing trouble again. I know it’s not him. He’s got cops dropping in on him, and he has all these random appointments he has to make…it can’t be him.”

  There was an edge of near desperation in her voice, but I wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince me…or herself.

  Before I could figure out what to say, she blurted out, “It could be somebody else trying to move in on your dad and brothers, Briar. I mean, your dad holds his own, but he’s not power-hungry like some people are.”

  There were words unspoken there, and I couldn’t help but wonder just who she meant.

  “Just say what it is you want to say, Isabel.”

  “I’m not…I mean…” She sputtered. But finally, she blurted out, “I’m just wondering if it could be somebody else, you know? It’s not like there hasn’t been somebody new around. Maybe there’s been somebody digging into the Downings, and nobody realized it.”

  My hand tightened on the phone. “Isabel…”

  “You know I don’t trust him,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. “I mean, I’ve known you how long now? And you’ve never dated. Then all of
a sudden this guy shows up, and you’re head over heels.”

  “And you suggest I sold my family out?” I demanded.

  “No!” Intensity colored her words.

  It didn’t do much to ease the ache in me, though.

  “No, I don’t mean that. But…Briar, Cormac came at you from out of nowhere, and all of a sudden, he’s coming to the house and making nice with your dad and your brothers, and I see him nosing around the house…”

  “When did you see that?”

  “Briar…” Suddenly, she was the one talking in a calm, almost logical voice.

  I had no idea why but now I was the one feeling defensive. “Come on,” I said belligerently, although my mind was already spinning back to the moment when I walked in on him. He’d been staring at the wall where my father kept some prized weapons, all of them antique. He’d acted perfectly fine. But I’d still had a weird feeling in my gut, and now that Isabel was asking, that sensation was back—tenfold. “Come on, Isabel. Just say what you want to say.”

  She didn’t say anything. Not for a long moment. She was quiet so long, I almost would have thought she’d hung up—although I didn’t want her to hang up. Already the silence was filled with Jerrel’s voice, icy and derisive as he told me that Cormac worked for the Castellanos.

  “I don’t want to say anything, Briar,” she said, exhaustion in her voice. “I just…something’s not right with him. I look at him, and I feel it. And all this mess now happening with your dad’s business.”

  “Maybe you’re just looking to blame somebody other than your brother,” I fired off. “I mean, come on. Marcos has already gone after my family once. Maybe you’re making this shit up about Cormac so nobody goes looking at Marcos twice.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That’s not fair.”

  Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t fair. The past few months had changed Isabel, dampened the light in her eyes, and now that I knew more about what had happened between Marcos, Brooks, and Daria, I understood just why so much of that bright, happy laughter had faded. Some part of me shriveled up and died over what I’d just done.

  I wanted to take it back, but before I could, Isabel cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have called. I just…” She sniffed. “I don’t know. I keep coming back to Cormac, and my gut keeps telling me there’s more going on with him than what he’s telling you. But maybe I’m wrong. I hope I am. Sorry for bothering you.”

 

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