Boston Underworld: The Collection

by A. Zavarelli

  “I just want to lay beside him,” I tell Lachlan. “For the night. Until he’s better.”

  He nods and then makes a gesture with his hand. “Well go on then,” he says. “I’ll be here if ye need me.”

  “You’re going to stay here?” I ask.

  “Aye.” He nods. “He’s my brother. I’ll be here until I know he’s okay.”

  I give him a small smile and pad down the hall. Ronan’s still asleep, my blankets folded over the lower half of his body. I crawl into bed beside him and curl up against his chest, breathing him in. And even though I know what Lachlan said is true, and it’s the right thing to do, I don’t want to let him go.

  And yet when I wake up the next morning, only to find the space beside me empty and every trace of him gone, I’m not in the least surprised.

  13

  RONAN

  “HAVE ye any idea how bad you’ve fucked this, Fitz?” Crow asks again.

  I focus my attention on the dog in my lap, the one staring at me with the big brown eyes.

  “I don’t know where the bleeding hell your head’s at lately,” he continues. “Are ye trying to get yourself killed?”

  I don’t answer.

  Mack walks down the hallway and sits down on the sofa beside me. She hasn’t let Crow out of her sight since that night he fought for her. I still don’t particularly care for her, but I do believe she’s proved to be loyal to Crow now.

  “It’s a nice place you got here, Ronan,” she says. “Although, it could do with a woman’s touch.”

  The dog in my lap barks in agreement, and Mack smiles.

  “I didn’t take you for a dog person,” she says.

  “I’m not,” I tell her.

  Crow is staring at the two of us, shaking his head.

  “Do ye have any other pressing concerns to discuss?” he asks. “How about the shade of your curtains? I don’t think it suits the goddamn sofa.”

  Mack laughs. “Cut him some slack, Lach,” she says. “Ronan looks like he’s having a bad day.”

  “This is why women don’t attend business meetings,” Crow says in response.

  “I wanted to see where he lived,” she argues. “I didn’t realize it was just down the street.”

  “You’d do well to forget it,” I tell her. “Nobody else needs to know it.”

  Crow glares at me.

  “C’mon, Mack. Let’s go.”

  “I think I’ll stay here for a bit,” she says. “With my old buddy Ronan. I don’t feel like going to the club just yet.”

  Crow glances at me, and I shrug. I don’t want her here, but I’ve learned to pick my battles with this one.

  “You’ll bring her along after?” he asks.

  “Aye.”

  “Have Rory come too,” Crow says. “I don’t want you going out alone until we find Andrei.”

  “I don’t need a bleeding escort,” I reply.

  “It wasn’t a request,” Crow answers.

  Mack walks him to the door where they participate in another display of shite I have no need to see. So I busy myself in the kitchen feeding the dog until he’s gone. But if I was hoping for a respite from Mack, she isn’t giving me one.

  “Whatcha doing?” she asks as she sits down at the table.

  “Feeding the dog.”

  “Obviously.” She laughs. “So what’s the deal with you and Sash?”

  I blink at her, wondering what she knows. All of the things Sasha could have told her filter through my head, and it makes me angry. She’s laughing at me. Because I embarrassed myself.

  “Relax, Ronan,” Mack says. “It’s just that I’ve noticed you’ve both been more screwy than usual lately. I mean I know she has a reason, with her mom and all. But what’s the deal?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I haven’t any idea why I’m even indulging her with this line of questioning. But there is a part of me, a small part of me, that wants to ask her some things. I take the box of donuts from the cupboard and set them on the table. When Mack spots them, she grins and it makes me uncomfortable.

  “Did you know I was coming?” she asks.

  “Crow told me.”

  “And you bought me donuts,” she coos. “Aw, Ronan, you’re the best.”

  She springs up on her feet and tries to hug me. I bat her away.

  “I sent Conor out for them this morning. Go hug him.”

  The next minute, she’s sitting at the table shoveling a donut into her mouth.

  “Look,” she says between mouthfuls. “You can talk to me, Ronan, you know? You don’t even have to bribe me with donuts although it certainly does help.”

  I sit down across from her and fold my hands. I don’t even know where to begin. Or what to say.

  “Just one sentence,” Mack insists. “The first thing that comes to your mind. And go.”

  “I don’t know what she wants,” I tell her.

  “Well that’s easy.” She shrugs. “She wants you silly.”

  I look up at her and scrub my face.

  “What I mean is,” I clear my throat. “I don’t know what she likes.”

  Mack stops chewing and stares at me. Shame washes over me and I look away.

  “Ronan,” she says in a voice that’s too high. “You’re blushing!”

  I don’t reply. I think she’s going to laugh at me, but she doesn’t.

  “Have you tried asking her?” Mack continues.

  “No.”

  “Right,” she snorts. “Because you’re… well, you.”

  “Ye’re a girl…” I tell her.

  “A woman,” she corrects. “But yes. I am of the female variety.”

  “What do people like you want?” I ask.

  “You mean women?” she smiles. “That’s a timeless question, Ronan. And one that you’ll never have the answer to. It changes every five minutes, and if you try to figure it out, you’ll just go mad.”

  I nod because I suspected as much.

  “Ronan, I was joking,” she laughs. “Sheesh, you’re so serious all the time. Just relax, will you?”

  Silence falls between us, and I find myself wishing she’d gone with Crow. This is pointless.

  “Look,” Mack says. “I can’t tell you what Sasha likes, because everyone is different. And even so, I think you kind of have to figure it out together. You know, it takes… like practice.”

  She makes a face as she says it, and my cheeks burn.

  “Do you know what I love about Lachlan?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “He just takes charge. He does what he wants. And he does it unapologetically. He doesn’t ask for permission to kiss me. He just does. If you’re so wrapped up in wondering if every little thing you do is wrong or right, then it’s not going to be enjoyable for either of you.”

  “But what if she doesn’t fancy it?”

  “Then she’ll tell you. And you fix it. Simple. It’s all about communication, Ronan, which I know isn’t your strong suit. But you can’t expect to figure all this shit out telepathically. You’ve got to put yourself out there a bit.”

  The dog jumps into my lap again, and Mack reaches for another donut.

  “But I will tell you one thing though, Fitz. If you want to make a play for Sash, you better do it soon. Girlfriend’s getting ready to pack her bags and get outta dodge, and I can’t say I blame her.”

  “I have no idea what any of that means,” I tell her.

  Mack groans and brushes the crumbs from her hands. “We have a lot of work to do, Ronan.”

  14

  SASHA

  EMILY FLEW IN LAST NIGHT, and she hasn’t left Ma’s side. She’s taking it hard, and in a way I feel guilty that I got more time with her. But this is how Ma wanted it.

  “She looks so different,” Em whispers. “I didn’t want to remember her this way.”

  “So don’t,” I tell her. “She wouldn’t want you to, Em.”

  “I’m going up to the roof,” she says. “I need some air.
”

  I nod and let her go. Emily is strong. And smart. And I know she’s going to do great things in her life. But this is going to leave a gaping hole in her heart. She’s too young to have lost both parents. She reminds me a little of Mack in that way. I see similarities between them. The tough fronts they put up for the world. Em’s always been like that.

  With Amy fixing the dosage of Ma’s medicine, she’s managed to have a few lucid moments throughout the day. And I’m surprised when Emily leaves, she opens her eyes again.

  I lay down beside her and try not to cry. When I look into her eyes tonight, I know it’s going to be the last time. She’s in too much pain to wake any more. And it isn’t fair to her.

  So this has to be goodbye.

  I hold her hand and talk to her. Anything that comes to my mind, I just blurt it out. I’m telling her about things that will never happen. A house I’ll probably never have. The names of my future children. Anything to keep my mind off what’s coming.

  Ma watches me talk, but doesn’t respond. I don’t expect her to. She’s weak and tired. But I still want to hear her voice. Just one last time.

  I promised myself I’d be strong for her. But I can’t. I’m too emotional. So eventually, I break down and just cry. She holds me, the way that mothers do.

  “Tell me it’s going to be okay, Ma,” I whisper. “Because I don’t feel like it will. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

  I don’t expect her to say anything. But she does.

  Her voice is faint and scratchy. But she speaks. For me.

  “He says,” she forces out, “he will protect you.”

  “What?” I blink at her, desperate for more.

  But she doesn’t speak again. She smiles and pulls my face down so that she can kiss me on the forehead. And then she closes her eyes and falls back into unconsciousness.

  Amy is still in the kitchen when I finally emerge, and I’m grateful for her presence. She’s made dinner, which isn’t part of her job requirement. Neither is staying this late when she isn’t even getting paid for it. She hasn’t said a word about what happened with Ronan. And I appreciate that too. I know she’s not over it, but whatever Lachlan said to her has kept her from bringing it up.

  I give her a shaky smile as I sit down and she hands me a dish of spaghetti.

  “Thank you, Amy.”

  “How was she?” she asks as she makes herself a dish.

  “She seemed very coherent,” I tell her. “But she said something strange. I couldn’t really make sense of it.”

  “It happens,” Amy says softly. “Sometimes their thoughts only make sense to them. The medication can do that.”

  I nod, deciding that’s probably the best possible explanation. But even as I tell myself that, I can’t stop thinking that isn’t it. That Ma knew exactly who she was talking about. And he goes by the name of Ronan.

  The next morning, Mack shows up at my door with Dunkies.

  I’m surprised to see her, but it seems like everyone has decided to start paying me regular visits. Amy told me this would probably happen. People don’t really know what to do in these situations, so they try to be helpful. They make casseroles and bring cards and flowers. I don’t mind. It keeps the apartment from being so quiet. Even with Amy and Em here round the clock now, it still feels empty. We’re all just walking around like zombies, waiting for the end to come.

  “Hey, Mack,” I greet her. “C’mon in.”

  She makes herself at home on the sofa and pulls out an impressive spread of donuts. The girl is a certified sugar addict. Although right now, nothing sounds better than some sugar and caffeine.

  “How is she?” Mack asks.

  “Amy says it probably won’t be long now,” I tell her.

  Mack gives me a gentle smile and then gets down to business. “Well, my reasons for being here are twofold. I came to see if you needed anything and to tell you that Lach wants you to take as much time off as you need.”

  She drops a stack of cash onto the coffee table, and I swallow the lump of emotion in my throat.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “Please tell him I said thank you.”

  Mack nods, and we eat our donuts in silence for the next few minutes.

  “There is something else,” she says. “It might not be the right time to bring it up. But then again it might help take your mind off things. I’m not really sure.”

  I look at her, and she has a blush on her cheeks. I’ve never once seen Mack blush.

  “What is it?”

  “Uh… well Ronan and I sort of had… like a birds and bees talk the other day.”

  I nearly choke on the coffee I just drank.

  “There were donuts involved,” she says nervously. “And a lot of awkwardness.”

  “He talked to you about this?” I ask.

  Mack stares down at her feet, and I realize why she’s being so weird about it. She thinks I’m going to be upset with her.

  “I’m not mad,” I tell her. “If that’s what you think.”

  Her shoulders sag in relief and she nods. “I don’t know how to do this whole thing. I mean, I’m sort of friends with Ronan, but not really. I think he just feels comfortable talking to me about you because he has no one else, ya know? I couldn’t even imagine him talking to the guys about it.”

  I focus on my coffee cup and bite my tongue to keep from asking her a million questions like a teenager with a stupid crush. But Mack must sense my curiosity because she explains on her own.

  “The whole conversation was pretty vague, but I get the gist that he isn’t very experienced. He’s nervous, and he wants to talk to you, but I honestly just don’t think he knows how, Sash.”

  “Tell me about it,” I sigh.

  “I don’t know what’s up with him. Lach is really weird about it. Like oddly protective of him. More so than the rest. He doesn’t let people touch him. And once, I saw him threaten Michael when he laughed at Ronan at the club. Like he wanted to tear off Michael’s head for laughing at him.”

  I’m somewhat surprised by the fact that Lachlan seems to have told me more about Ronan than even Mack knows, and I have to think it’s for a reason. But then I remember what he said and try to tell myself that this is for the best. That I need to let Ronan go and concentrate on my future.

  “I don’t get it either,” I reply. “I know next to nothing about him. And it doesn’t matter anyway at this point.”

  “Doesn’t it?” Mack asks softly.

  “No,” I say firmly, still feeling the tug in my chest at the way he left the other morning. “I meant what I said, Mack. When Ma is gone, I can’t stay here anymore. I just can’t. It’s time for me to get out of this vacuum.”

  “Okay, Sash,” she says. “If that’s what you want, then I respect that. And I fully back you up on whatever you choose to do.”

  15

  SASHA

  I’M LYING IN BED, staring up at the ceiling when I hear him come in.

  He isn’t loud. In fact, he’s so quiet it only serves to remind me who he is and what he does. I don’t even know how he’s getting into the apartment. Or when this habit of his started. Any normal person would be upset. Freaked out, probably.

  But when I feel the bed dip and the leather from his gloved hand as he reaches out to touch me, I’m enveloped by a sense of calm. Relief. I feel safe with him, this killer. This man with the somber brown eyes who I don’t understand, but want to more than anything.

  “Ronan.”

  My bedside lamp turns on, and he blinks down at me. “Ye’re awake.”

  “I am. How’s your shoulder?”

  “Almost good as new,” he answers. And for some reason, I think he actually believes that.

  He has a cheap plastic shopping bag next to him. It looks out of place resting beside this sharp dressed man with the flawless hair and suit. On the outside, he’s so perfect it’s hard to believe I could ever measure up to him.

  I’m sullied. Tarnished. Unclea
n.

  And yet he’s looking at me right now like he’s never seen anything more angelic in his life. His eyes are unguarded and open. It doesn’t happen often. And I’m honestly surprised he’s here at all after what happened the last time.

  He comes and goes as he pleases. When things get uncomfortable, he runs. But somehow he always knows when I need him. And tonight, I do need him.

  “What do you have there?” I gesture towards the bag.

  His cheeks flush as he dumps the contents onto the bed. There’s an entire armory of condoms, lube, foams, and other over the counter birth control methods.

  “I didn’t know which ones you like,” he says.

  His eyes are avoiding mine, and I’m grateful. Because I’m smiling. He’s overwhelmed and uncomfortable. I don’t know why he gets like that. But I’m curious as hell the more I get to know about him. I want to know how many others he’s been with. I want to know why he’s so keyed up about something that is second nature to the majority of the men he spends time with.

  But I also know that those subjects will likely push him away, so I don’t ask.

  I grab a box and open it, handing him the foil packet.

  “We only need one to start with,” I offer.

  The room is quiet while Ronan stares down at the packet in his hands. After a pause, he tries to tear it open. It doesn’t work. He’s fumbling with it because he’s being too rough, and there’s a red flush creeping up his neck.

  I place a hand on his shoulder and he startles. “Do you want some help?”

  “No,” he clips out.

  I bite my lip and wait, and eventually he gets it open. When he pulls out the condom, he stares at it again. I can’t see his expression, but he keeps tugging at his collar and the vein in his neck is now throbbing.

  It’s only when he gets up to leave that it occurs to me he doesn’t know what to do with it. I jump out of bed and chase after him, catching him around the arm. He’s staring down the hallway, desperate to get away. His skin is on fire beneath my palm, and I know he’s counting the steps to the door.