Boston Underworld: The Collection

by A. Zavarelli

  He adjusts the erection in his jeans, and I smirk as my fingers drag over his zipper. “You know, there’s a solution for that.”

  His eyes darken, and five minutes later, he’s fucking my mouth like the caveman he is. He fingers me beneath the curtain of my dress, and we both come violently. I’m still riding the high when I collapse back against his seat to catch my breath. I finger comb my hair in the mirror and wipe away the mascara that leaked from my eyes while Conor watches.

  “I guess we should probably go inside, huh?”

  Conor is quiet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Aye.” He nods. “There was just something else I was thinking about. It might seem silly to you, but it would mean a lot to me.”

  “What is it?”

  He reaches out and toys with the ring on my hand. “You took my last name, and I want that for Archer too. I want him to know that even if I’m not his real father, I’m always going to be his dad.”

  My heart squeezes as a million different emotions detonate inside of it. Before I can even make sense of what’s happening, I’m wiping away my own mess of tears. “You want to adopt him?”

  “Aye,” Conor answers. “We’re a family. We should all have the same name. I don’t want him growing up with a blank space on his birth certificate or thinking that he’s not my son, because he is in every way but that one.”

  “That’s incredible…” I say. “I can’t think of anything he’d like better than to call you his dad.”

  Conor recognizes the worry in my eyes, and he doesn’t gloss over it. “But?”

  I stare down at our hands, unified, and everything about it feels so right. There’s no longer a question in my mind about my relationship with Conor or if he loves Archer. But I’m still a mother, and I’m always going to worry.

  “I guess I’m just nervous,” I admit. “I’m honored to call you my husband and a father to Archer. You are who you are, and I love you for that. But I want Archer to have a normal life. I don’t want him growing up to—”

  “Become a gangster,” Conor finishes for me.

  “Yes.” I shrug.

  “I want the best for him too, Ivy,” he says. “The kid’s smart. He can do anything he wants. Go to school, become an accountant or a doctor. Whatever. It’s up to him. I’m not going to force his hand on anything.”

  I meet his eyes and only see truth there. It’s the reassurance I needed. I already know Conor will protect us. He will keep us safe, and he will give Archer a good life. Maybe it’s crazy for me to accept that I’m married to the mob, but I don’t care. This is what I want. It’s what Archer wants. And for the first time in my life, I’m doing what really feels best for us.

  “You’ll need to ask him,” I say. “It’s up to him.”

  Conor gives me a goofy smile. “Aye, I can do that.”

  I lean over and kiss him again, and he nips his way down my neck, breathing in my ear. “I think the lads are ready to meet my wife. What do ye say?”

  I close my eyes and breathe him in. “I’d say it’s about time.”

  EPILOGUE

  CONOR

  “WHAT IN THE bleeding hell is wrong with your woman?” Dom asks.

  I glance across the room at Ivy, who’s perched against the table nibbling on a saltine cracker. “I’ve got no clue. She’s been a little on the cranky side. Last night she started crying over a cartoon.”

  Crow smirks like he knows something I don’t before he leans back and takes a drink from his glass. “Welcome to the club. Ye best get used to it.”

  Dom laughs and my eyes drift back to my wife. Even though she hasn’t exactly been her usual self, I have nothing but warmth for her when I catch her mingling with the other wives like it’s second nature. She’s in my world now, and I never have to question that she wants to be anywhere else because even when we nitpick or nag about stupid shite, at the end of the day, we always come back to each other.

  Every night, before her eyes fall shut and her breathing evens out and I ask myself again how I came to have everything I never knew I wanted, she tells me that she loves me. And I know she means it. When I have a rough day, I don’t have to say anything to her. She just knows. She’s there for me when I open the door, and she does everything in her power to make it all okay. For me, and Archer, and anyone else she cares about. The woman might weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet, but she’s got a heart of pure gold.

  “She can be cranky,” I tell the lads. “I don’t care. She’s still mine.”

  Dom shakes his head like he’s disgusted, but I know he gets it. They all get it. Because we might be Kings on the streets, but we would be nothing without our Queens at home.

  “Dad!” Archer squeals as he bounds through the parlor with red cheeks. He’s out of breath, and half his mouth is still painted in chocolate from the cake, and I’ve never been so proud as I am when I hear those three letters from his lips.

  “What’s up, little fella?” I grunt when he leaps onto my lap.

  “Mama said to ask you if I can open presents now!”

  “Aye.” I tap him on the nose with a smile. “That sounds about right.”

  He disappears just as soon as he arrived to tackle the mountain of presents that’s accumulated in the middle of the parlor. One thing about birthday parties in this family is that there is no such thing as telling the lads they can’t spoil your kids. It’s going to happen no matter what, so you might as well just accept it.

  Ivy comes to stand beside me while Crow takes the lead and distributes each present, announcing who it’s from and letting Archer tear into it. Over the next twenty minutes, we watch him unwrap a battery powered BMW, a hand-controlled drone, Wheelies, a Nerf Go Kart, and enough Legos to ensure I’ll never walk across the floor without cursing again. Ivy’s eyes widen with each gift that’s unwrapped, but when it comes to the tiny motorcycle, I can’t help laughing at the panic on her face.

  “We’ll save that one for a little later,” I whisper to her. She gives me an exhausted smile before I pull her into my lap and kiss the side of her temple.

  The party goes on well into the evening, and by the time the last of our guests leaves, my wife can barely keep her eyes open. Archer already passed out from the excitement of the day when I carry her back to our bedroom and lay her down.

  “You okay?” I brush the hair away from her face.

  “Yes,” she answers. “Are the parties always that intense?”

  “Aye.” I smirk. “Family is important. It means a lot to the lads to give the kids a smile when they can.”

  “It’s the best birthday he’s ever had,” she mumbles sleepily. “Thank you.”

  I lean down and kiss her, and then I try to get up with the intentions of cleaning up the kitchen. I don’t want it to fall on Ivy’s shoulders when I have to go back to work in the morning and she’s not feeling well.

  “Conor.” She grabs my arm and rolls onto her side, propping herself up with her elbow. “We’ll have another birthday to celebrate soon.”

  I think she might be delirious, but I count off the months in my head to both of our birthdays, which are still a good six months away. “Whose?”

  She offers me a nervous smile as she pats her tummy. “This little nugget right here.”

  For a minute, I can’t even breathe. I want to make sure I heard her right, but there are a thousand thoughts crashing through my mind at the same time. “Ye’re pregnant?”

  She bites her lip. “Is that… good?”

  I kneel down beside the bed and cup her face, smashing my lips against hers in answer. I kiss her with the passion of a man who’s just won the lottery. I kiss her until neither of us can breathe, and then I leave her panting in a heap on her pillow as I worship her throat with my mouth.

  My hand slides across her belly, cupping the small bump there. I’d noticed it, but I just thought she was finally putting on the weight she’d lost. “How long do we have?�
��

  “Six more months.” Her fingers thread through my hair as she massages my scalp. “That’s good, right?”

  “Baby, you have no idea. That’s it. I’m done now. You’ve given me everything I wanted.”

  She laughs and shakes her head as I climb up onto the bed beside her.

  “So, that’s why I’ve been moody. It’s hormones.”

  “You can be as moody as you want,” I assure her. “You just focus on growing this wee baby of ours, and I’ll take care of everything else.”

  I mean it, and I can’t wait to show Ivy just how much I mean it when she curls into me and rests her head on my beating heart.

  “I’m going to take care of you,” I murmur. “Always, my love.”

  EPILOGUE

  CONOR

  “WHAT DO ye mean her doctor won’t be able to make it?” I glare.

  The bloke standing at my wife’s feet barely acknowledges me because his eyes are laser focused on her treasure chest and I’m about ready to loaf him in the head.

  “She’s out of town,” the doctor says. “I’m on call, and this baby is coming now. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to help your wife.”

  “Conor,” Ivy hisses between labored breaths. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” I insist. “He keeps staring at you.”

  The doctor looks at me and shakes his head like I’m the one who’s mad.

  “He has to stare at me,” Ivy insists. “There’s a baby coming out of me in case you haven’t noticed. Now do you want to help me or not?”

  When I meet her eyes and recognize the pain she’s in, it occurs to me what a blockhead I’m being. But I still don’t like it. I don’t want this tosser anywhere near her.

  “Oooooh,” she groans.

  I forget what I’m even worked up about as I scramble to her side and take her hand in mine. “It’s okay, love. Ye’re doing a great job.”

  She hisses out a few more breaths and squeezes her eyes shut as the pervert masquerading as a doctor issues instructions. I can’t hear a word of it because I’m focused on my wife. My beautiful wife who’s giving birth to our child.

  I smooth her hair back and kiss her forehead hoping to soothe her, but her body seizes up again and she whacks me in the face when her head jolts forward.

  “Oh, God, Conor.” She blinks, horrified, and I don’t understand what’s happening until I feel it running down my face.

  Warm blood pours from my nose, the metallic taste painting my lips. Right about the same time, I hear the doctor saying something about one last push. And then I glance down between Ivy’s legs where it looks like the floor of Reaper’s basement.

  Blood. So much blood.

  It’s the last thought I have before I hit the floor.

  “Archer, meet your little sister, Keeley.”

  “Keeley,” he repeats, eyes wide with wonder as he squeezes into the space next to me.

  I wrap my free arm around the little lad and hold them both while Ivy watches with a sleepy smile across the room.

  “Ye’re a big brother now,” I say to Archer. “That means you must always look out for your sister and protect her. Do ye understand what that means?”

  Archer nods as his fingers smooth over her tiny forehead. “I’ll look after her like you look after us, Dad. I’ll read her bedtime stories and when she’s older make sure she eats her vegetables too.”

  I smile and give him a little squeeze.

  “Excuse me.” The nurse pops her head in. “But I can’t hold them off anymore. Do you mind if they come in now?”

  I look to Ivy, and she laughs, nodding along. “They can come in now.”

  Before the nurse can even extricate herself, the room is full of my brothers and their wives, and they’ve all come bearing gifts. The boxes and bags get abandoned to the side of the room as they take their turns holding the wee one and posing for photos like they aren’t the most fearsome men this side of Boston.

  “Looks like ye did a grand job of it.” Crow eyes my bandaged nose. “Even if you did come out a with a battle wound.”

  “I’ll do better next time,” I assure him.

  He smirks and removes a flask from his coat, and we toast to Keeley’s health and to our family. And it is a family. Everything I love is right here in this room, and I would do anything to protect it. When I meet Ivy’s eyes, I know she understands it too.

  “You’ve given her a life worth fighting for.” Crow squeezes my shoulder. “It’s about goddamn time.”

  * * *

  The End.

  AFTERWORD

  Thank you so much for reading Boston Underworld: The Collection. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving an honest review. You can also join my Facebook reader group, A. Zavarelli’s Femme Fatales, for giveaways and up to date information on future releases.

  BOOKS BY A. ZAVARELLI

  BOSTON UNDERWORLD SERIES

  CROW: Boston Underworld #1

  REAPER: Boston Underworld #2

  GHOST: Boston Underworld #3

  SAINT: Boston Underworld #4

  THIEF: Boston Underworld #5

  Bleeding Hearts Series

  Echo: A Bleeding Hearts Novel Volume One

  Stutter: A Bleeding Hearts Novel Volume Two

  Twisted Ever After Series

  BEAST: Twisted Ever After #1

  Standalones

  Tap Left

  Falling Series

  Novellas

  An Escort for Christmas

  One Last Gift

  * * *

  For a complete list of books and audios, visit http://www.azavarelli.com/books

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A. Zavarelli is a USA Today bestselling author.

  * * *

  She likes all things chocolate, books that come with warnings, and putting her characters through hell. Her tales have been known to flirt with darkness and sometimes court it unabashedly altogether. Revenge themes and tortured souls are her favorites to write and this gives her an excuse to watch bizarre and twisted documentaries in her spare time.

  * * *

  She currently lives in the Northwest with her lumberjack and an entire brood of fur babies.

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