Boston Underworld: The Collection

by A. Zavarelli

  His fingers wrap around mine and squeeze. I’ve hit too close to home. His eyes are hard, glittering with suspicion again.

  “Ye’re too observant for your own good,” he says. “It would be better for you if ye didn’t let onto these things, butterfly.”

  “Probably,” I agree.

  I refuse to let the conversation die though. I want to get answers from him while he’s willing to give them. I suspect it doesn’t happen often.

  “So what kind of things do you do besides running the club?”

  “I can’t tell ye that, Mack,” he says. “Even if you were my wife, ye wouldn’t know these things. It’s for your own protection.”

  Wife? I clear my throat and stare at his chest, tracing my fingers over the lines of his tattoos.

  “Just tell me one thing then.”

  “What?”

  “Do you or have you ever, dealt in trafficking women?”

  “No,” he answers firmly. “Never. And we never will.”

  When I look up into his eyes, I believe him. And I don’t know why. I can’t believe him. I have to be objective here. To see things logically. No matter how many conflicting feelings I have about this man, the truth is simple. Talia worked for him, and now she’s gone. There’s an explanation behind that, regardless of what he says to me. Maybe he doesn’t know it, maybe he does. Either way, I can’t trust him. Lachlan Crow is only loyal to one thing, and that is his syndicate.

  “Hop up.” He pats me on the ass. “Let’s try to get some sleep. I have another long day tomorrow.”

  “Still dealing with the Armenians?”

  He nods and leads me to the bed. I hesitate for only a moment before climbing in beside him with a sigh. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.

  18

  MACKENZIE

  “WHEN DO I get to go back to work?” I ask.

  Lachlan glances up from his breakfast. “Ye don’t.”

  “What do you mean I don’t?”

  Him and Ronan exchange glances. “Told ye, sweetheart. Things are going to change. The only lad you’ll be dancing for from now on is me.”

  “Like hell.” I start to have a mini panic attack at the prospect. “You aren’t taking my job away from me!”

  Lachlan leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head as he observes me. “Ye should’ve thought about that before ye came to my room last night. Remember who ye’re talking to, butterfly.”

  I cross my arms in stubborn refusal. “I’m not leaving the club.”

  “If I say you are, then aye, you fucking are.”

  “Or I could just walk out the door right now,” I threaten.

  He laughs, and so does Ronan. “You’d have the Armenians up your arse in two minutes, sweetheart. Do ye honestly think I’d allow that to happen? I told ye I’d protect you, and I meant it. Even if that means I have to handcuff ye to my bed, which I’m not opposed to by the way.”

  Shit. This is not happening how I planned it. He’s right about the Armenians. But I’m not here to play house with Lachlan. I’m here to get information. So I attempt to be sweet though it’s totally not in my nature.

  “Look, Lachlan,” I say calmly. “I really don’t want to be the little woman you stash away in your house while you’re out all day doing God knows what. I can’t just sit around and wait for you, I’ll go outta my fricken mind. You promised me a job, you can’t just take that away. Let me do something else if you don’t want me to dance. I can do your books, cocktails, whatever. My talents are endless, really.”

  He gives me a coy little smirk, and I know he’s thinking about last night. As a bonus, it seems like he’s actually considering my words, so I throw a cherry on top.

  “Besides, I don’t want you there without me. Mandy thinks she’s gonna’ get her claws into you and she’s got another thing coming.”

  Now he’s giving me one of those boyish grins of his. Go figure. Ronan, however, is even more suspicious of me than ever judging by the scowl on his face.

  “I’ll tell ye what, sweetheart,” Lach says. “You can keep working at the club for a few hours a night. I’ll find ye something to do. But what I say goes.”

  “Of course.” I flash him a victorious smile. “Whatever you say, Lachlan.”

  Ronan rolls his eyes and grunts. When Lachlan goes back to eating, I stick my tongue out at him and grin. I always get what I want.

  LACHLAN

  When I get back to my place, I only have time for a change of clothes before I have to set off again. Turns out it doesn’t matter since the girl’s asleep. In my bed, no less. I move to the edge and watch her for a bit. In her sleep, she looks even younger and more vulnerable than I already know her to be.

  She fancies herself a tough nut. Thinks she can handle my world and anything I throw at her. I’d have to disagree. I’ve seen this life bring full grown blokes to their knees before. A girl like her should be in college, messing around with guys who play football and act tough in pubs on the weekend. Not lads who look over their shoulders at every turn and question who is gunning for them this week.

  I’ve no choice now. She’s in it, like it or not. It’s either that, or buried six feet under. That option’s got some appeal to it, if I’m being honest. I almost got myself shot tonight when I was thinking about her sucking my cock. Jaysus. The woman is doing my fecking head in. Making me lose focus and using resources I can’t afford to spare. I’ve got Ronan bitching in my ear and Niall to contend with, and everyone’s on my goddamn case. I can’t let her go, but I don’t want her to stay either. She’s confusing me. The way she touches me. How she looks at me. Inside, I see her for the fragile girl she really is, and that’s a weakness.

  She’s in my bed, my house, my clothes. Fucking up everything. I should want her gone. There’s no room in my life for any woman who isn’t one of Viktor’s daughters. Especially ones who keep secrets. Flashes of Mandy shagging Sean on my desk blur my vision, swirling with all of the others before her who’ve fucked me over. Then I think about Carrick. How badly he wanted me to marry. If I’d had a choice in the matter, he’d have liked Mack. Would’ve told me to put a couple of babies in her and carry on our bloodline. Those aren’t things I want. Never have. All I ever wanted was to take my rightful place at Niall’s side, and this girl… she could destroy that.

  My fingers drift up Mack’s rib cage and over her throat. I could end it right now. Make it all go away. She moans something in her sleep, and my eyes move to her face. She isn’t awake, but her eyes are fluttering. She’s dreaming. Another moan, and this time I can hear it clearly. My name.

  “Christ,” I mutter.

  I lean down and kiss her. I haven’t a clue why, other than that I want to.

  “Goddamn you, Mack.” When I pull away, she whimpers.

  Without another glance, I walk down the hall. There’s something I’ve been putting off that needs sorting out. It can’t wait another minute.

  Ronan’s eyes snap open as I walk into the room. He’s sick of sleeping on my sofa and I don’t blame him. His frustration with me grows every day he has to stay locked in this house with Mack. But he’s the only lad I can trust to protect her and not put the moves on her.

  I pull up a seat and toss the file into his lap. He opens it up, his eyes scanning the reports and soaking it all in. He doesn’t bother to say anything as he hands the file back. There isn’t need for that, and Ronan’s never been one for words anyway.

  “Ivan is gunning for her,” I explain further. “Alexei assured Viktor we’d keep her on a leash until they flush out the rat.”

  Understanding shines through his eyes as he gives me a stiff nod. I’ve made it clear now why he’s here. Why he needs to watch her and the reason for me being so cagey.

  “I need to pay Niall a visit,” I tell him. “I can’t put it off any longer.”

  “You best get to it then,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Niall doesn’t do business at his house. It�
��s almost always done at Slainte or one of his other businesses. He likes to keep his family separate from this life, and I don’t blame him. In these early morning hours, I meet him at a diner that his sister runs.

  Scarcely a minute passes after I slide into the leather booth before I’m greeted with a full Irish breakfast. The oul one loves his Irish breakfasts.

  “I don’t fancy being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.” He folds his hands on the table and watches me carefully. “This better be important, Lachlan.”

  “We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t,” I tell him.

  I pull the file from my coat and he shakes his head, making a gesture with his hand. “Eat first.”

  We do. The place is quiet, and there are only a handful of customers seated in other sections. I’m not even hungry, but when Niall says eat, you fucking eat.

  When I finish, I slide my plate away and wait for him in silence.

  Finally, he tosses his napkin onto the plate and pushes it away.

  “Alright, lad. Now you can fuck up my day.”

  I smile, only because Niall knows me well. If I’ve requested this meeting, it can’t be anything good. He’s on alert already because of what happened with the Armenians trying to steal our cash. That was no coincidence. This, though… this is going to wreck him. Niall doesn’t take to betrayal lightly. And the few grainy shots Alexei managed to gather from our security system proved something I never wanted to be right about. There has to be a rat in our outfit as well, seeming as the Armenians managed to get the code for the safe.

  I slide the photos across to him and watch him as he scans over them. He doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t even twitch. That’s why Niall’s the boss. He’s always in control of himself. It’s only because I know him so well that I notice the redness taking over his ears.

  He tucks the file into his jacket and then folds his hands across the laminate table.

  “Tonight.”

  He gets up out of the booth and leaves.

  19

  MACKENZIE

  I’M SITTING in the bathroom applying my makeup when Lach’s cell phone rings in the next room. He answers it, and being the nosy investigator I am, I listen in. The conversation is one sided, and muffled through the door, so I press my ear against the wood to hear better.

  Mostly, I only get a whole lot of muffled affirmatives before he hangs up. I brush it off as a lost cause, but then a moment later I hear the distinctive clip of Ronan’s shoes followed by his voice.

  “Sean get a hold of you?” Ronan asks.

  “Aye, Niall wants a meeting. Seven o’clock.”

  “What are we gonna’ do about her?” Ronan grunts.

  A sigh from Lachlan. “Chrissakes, she can’t come to the club. I’ll get Conor to watch her.”

  There’s a beat of silence, and I can almost imagine the scowl on Ronan’s face. He doesn’t trust me, and Conor is one of their newest recruits. Which, incidentally, will probably work out in my favor. Because there’s no way in hell I’m missing that meeting tonight. This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.

  “You mind if I head off now then?” Ronan asks. “I’ve got some business to tend to.”

  “Ah sure,” Lachlan says. “Tell Conor to get his arse over here.”

  The front door slams a moment later, and then Lachlan’s banging on the bathroom door, nearly scaring me half to death.

  “Ye alright in there, sweetheart?”

  I grab my lipstick tube and open the door with my best doe-eyed expression. “Yeah, just putting on my makeup.”

  “Ye’re not going anywhere.”

  “I know.” I scowl. “I’m just bored, Jesus, give me a break, will ya?”

  He pushes his way into the bathroom and sandwiches me between his body and the counter.

  “I’ve a cure for that,” he says.

  I bite my lip and look up at him, only to be pulled into his crushing grip while he kisses the hell out of me. The tension in my body melts away almost immediately. I don’t know how he does that. Any other guy tries to manhandle me like this I’d be kneeing him in the nuts.

  Lachlan’s breathing grows rougher as he wraps his arms around my waist and holds me tight. His erection is pressed up against my stomach, and there’s no doubt in my mind what he wants. We haven’t had any time over the last few days since he’s always coming or going, but I knew he’d want to pick up where he left off. A part of me wants it too.

  I reach up and run my fingers through his hair and down his neck, making him groan. It’s such a masculine sound, and I want to make him do it again and again.

  Then his ringtone blares, completely ruining the moment.

  “Fecking hell,” he curses into the phone as he pulls back. “What now?”

  I can’t hear what the other voice is saying on the line, but whatever it is makes Lachlan tense. He bites out a few more syllables and then hangs up.

  “Always with the interruptions.” He reaches down and adjusts himself. “Ye better be ready for me tonight, sweetheart. I’ll be finishing this.”

  “I have no doubts about that.” A wave of guilt crashes over me for what I’m about to do.

  “I’ve got to head on,” he says.

  “Okay.”

  He reaches down and brushes his lips against mine like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and it surprises us both.

  “Be good, sweetheart. No giving Conor a hard time.”

  “Never,” I lie.

  He turns to go, but at the last second, his fingers brush over my necklace. My breathing stops as he inspects it, and then his eyes find mine again with a questioning glance.

  “Ye don’t seem like the hearts type,” he says.

  I choke back the emotion in my voice as I stare up at him and give him a sad smile. “That’s because I’m not.”

  20

  MACKENZIE

  NOW THAT LACHLAN and Ronan are gone, I’ve put two and two together. Ronan must be a lot higher on the totem pole than I originally expected. He had to go to the meeting tonight, and Lachlan wasn’t at all happy about leaving me in the hands of a new recruit. There was obvious worry on his face when he left. And also something else. Something that looked similar to fear. I brushed it off. Because there’s no way he could actually be worried about me, right?

  Regardless, it doesn’t matter. Even as I sit here, nestled in the safety of the fortress he calls a house, I’m already scheming my betrayal.

  Conor is young, probably close to me in age. His position within the organization basically consists of being Lachlan’s bitch and doing whatever he’s told. Which tonight, means babysitting me. If I’d thought escaping him was going to be easy, I was dead wrong. He’s been watching me like a hawk for the last hour, and still hasn’t moved, even to go to the bathroom. I have every right to think that Lachlan probably threatened him with murder if anything were to happen to me while he’s gone. Conor is on high alert, his eyes bulging out of his head at every little noise. Jesus, he’s making me uptight even just sitting here with him.

  I thought about sneaking out the window, but after further inspecting the glass and realizing it was frigging bulletproof and that none of the windows actually opened, that was a lost cause. This entire house has a lot more security features than I thought at first glance. I guess Lachlan is well prepared for any event. Good for him, but not so much for me. So now here I sit, an hour away from the meeting time, still trying to come up with a plan.

  There’s only one real solution. And it’s going to land me in some hot water with Lach and make me feel like a complete asshole. But what choice do I have? This is for Talia.

  I walk into the kitchen and rummage through the cupboards under the guise of looking for food. I can still feel Conor’s eyes on me, and I know I’m going to have to make my performance convincing.

  Humming a little tune, I open up one of the bottom cupboards. And then I scream. Full on bloody murder. Conor comes running in a second later with wild ey
es as I back away and point a shaky finger at the cupboard.

  “What is it?” he demands.

  “There’s a s-s-spider,” I squeak while I bounce from foot to foot and flap my hands about. “A huge one. Ugh, they scare me. Please… get it out of here.”

  He rolls his eyes and bends down to inspect the so called spider. That’s when I pounce. While he’s vulnerable, I slide my hand beneath his jaw until my arm’s wrapped around his neck. Gripping my bicep with my other hand, I squeeze and pull while I cup the back of his head with my other hand. He barely has time to panic or attempt to fight back before the blood supply is completely cut off. He’s untrained in this kind of combat, and my guess is his only defense is the gun on his hip. He doesn’t even have time to reach for it before he loses consciousness.

  “That’s right, Conor,” I say softly. “Just go to sleep.”

  When he’s limp in my arms, I drag him into the kitchen and prop him on a dining room chair. Thank God Lachlan didn’t buy cheap wood crap. I don’t have any rope, so I have to settle for using some sheets and other fabric, along with a roll of duct tape.

  Once he’s secure and I know he won’t be going anywhere, I pause to feel the tiniest flicker of remorse.

  “Sorry, buddy.” I pat him on the head. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  With one last glance, I grab my keys and jacket and head towards the door.

  After stopping off at the motel to change into a sexy dress and heels, I’ve only got about ten minutes before the meeting is due to start. I opt for a cab instead of the T and make it to Slainte ten minutes late.

  I don’t know how long these meetings generally carry on, but I’m hoping it’s for a while. When I get inside, I try to play it cool while I figure out where they’d be meeting. I know there’s a lower level, but I’ve never been down there before. After scoping the place out, I notice a cocktail waitress getting ready to take a shit ton of alcohol through a side door to the stairwell.