Chapter 44
Who is Nana Byrne?She’s an eighty-five-year-old grandma who relies on a walker to get around yet somehow still pulls the invisible strings that guide my family.
She’s my idol.
I like to think we’re kindred spirits.
If she’d been born in modern times, she would run this family outright. Nana is tough as nails, savvy, and loyal without fault. She’s also funny as hell and can drink anyone under the table. Who wouldn’t idolize the woman?
It’s no surprise I find myself at her house. I can’t imagine making any major life decision without talking it through with her first. I value her opinions as much as anyone, if not more so. That’s probably why it’s taken me a full week to make it over here. I’m not worried about her reaction, per se, but I don’t want to disappoint her.
“You know, I was worried, of course. But not like I would have been if it was any of the others.” She waves a gnarled finger at me, her eyes glinting with intelligence. “I knew my Shae would find a way home. I says to the others, until I see a body, my girl’s not dead. And here ye are, whole and hearty and lovely as ever.”
Nana never fails to make me smile, and today is no exception. I adore this woman.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come by since getting back.”
“Go way outta that.” She waves off my apology. “You’re a busy woman. I knew you’d be by when you could. Now, tell me. What’s being done to catch the bastards who took ye?”
“We’ve been doing what we can, but there wasn’t much to go on. Hopefully, we’ll have a breakthrough soon. I’m definitely not giving up.”
“Damn straight.” Nana’s eyes squint until I don’t know how she can see out of them. “A Byrne never forgets.”
I give her a beaming grin. “How’ve you been while I was away?”
“Can’t complain. I’m still here.”
I laugh and shake my head at her. “That’s setting the bar awfully low.”
“I can’t reach so high these days. Best to be reasonable with my expectations.” She winks. “Enough about me. I want to hear about the Italian you were stuck with for three weeks. Was he good looking?”
My jaw hits the floor. “Nana! He’s Italian Mafia. I distinctly remember hearing you say that the Italians don’t know their asses from their elbows.”
“True, but the term Italian stallion exists for a reason, and while I never got to test the truth behind it doesn’t mean you can’t. For science. Wouldn’t mean you’d have to marry the man.” Her shrewd eyes hold me captive, scanning for tells. She reminds me of a human version of that fingerprint-matching software you see on TV shows where thousands of records are processed in seconds before a perfect match pops onto the screen. Nana dissects every tiny nuance and somehow deduces what’s under the surface with eerie accuracy.
When she mentions not having to marry the man, she sees something in me that sets off her inner alarms. Within seconds, the savant puzzle solver has the entire picture, her eyes softening in the corners.
“Shae, lass. You’ve fallen for the man, haven’t ye?”
Hiding anything from Nana is pointless. I nod and tamp down the tingles that burn the backs of my eyes.
“I don’t know what to do, Nana,” I admit in a whisper.
“Do about what? Does he not feel the same?”
“He’s definitely crazy about me.” Crazy being the key term.
“Well, that’s good.”
“It is?”
“For you, of course it is. You’ve too much life in you to settle for anything less.”
I hadn’t truly thought about that perspective. She’s not wrong. “The problem is he’s the boss of their family. He can’t be with a woman who works in another organization.”
She nods sagely, her thin, lined lips pursing together. “Loyalties would always be in question.”
“Yeah, and I wouldn’t want to ask him to step down, but I also feel like it’s always women asked to set aside their lives for the sake of a man. That’s not fair, nor do I want to be that woman willing to give up everything for a man.”
“Shae, darlin’.” She cocks her head to the side. “Tell me yer not making life choices based on other people’s situations.”
“No, but—”
Her brows jump to her gray hairline as she stares at me pointedly.
“I mean … women are always the ones asked to give up their livelihoods to be mothers and let men run everything.”
“And I take it you see that as a negative.”
“I guess it’s not if that’s what the woman wants as well.”
“And this man of yours, do you think he expects you to sit at home and raise babies?”
“No.”
“Do you think he or your family would respect you any less if you weren’t working at Bastion?”
“No.”
“Then it sounds like an exciting new opportunity to forge your own path if you ask me. You aren’t other women, Shae Byrne. You look at you and your circumstances to make the decision. Nothing else. What do you want?”
My voice is as frail as a butterfly’s wings when I answer because it’s the first time I’ve even admitted to myself aloud what my heart has been telling me all along. “I want to find a way to make it work.”
“Then ye have yer answer, darlin’.” Nana’s eyes are almost lost in the creases from her smile.
I cross from my chair at the kitchen table and wrap her in a grateful hug. “You’re the best, Nana.”
“Don’t you forget it, love.”
I laugh and sniffle, my emotions getting the better of me. “How about I put on a kettle? We can wake up Paddy and have him join us for tea and biscuits.”
“Excellent idea.” She gives a single nod, then lists in her chair toward the living room. “Ach, Paddy, ye old fart,” she yells with more volume than should be possible. “Come and join us for a cuppa.”
My grandfather, Paddy, was snoozing in his recliner when I’d come over. Seconds later, he’s standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes.
“Jaysus, woman. What’s with all the yelling?” He puts his glasses on, then beams when he sees me. “Shae, darlin’. When did you get here?”
Nana shakes her head and mutters, “Daft geezer.”
I fight back a giggle and shoot up a silent thanks to the heavens for the best grandparents ever.
Five more dayspass before I muster the courage to talk to my brother. Conner and Nana were one thing. Oran is another beast entirely, in part because of his unique perspectives but also because of my childhood admiration of him. It’s easy to say I shouldn’t care what anyone else thinks of my decisions. It’s a lot harder to put that sentiment into action. I will always care what Oran thinks of me, even when I act like I don’t.
Therefore, when I sit down with him in his living room, I’m extremely careful about the words I choose as I explain my situation. By the time I finish, his forehead is lined in confusion.
“Wait, you’re telling me … you have feelings for Renzo?”
“Yeah…” I draw out hesitantly. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Conner told me about the insane tension between you and Renzo on the plane ride. And at the airport back home, you left without giving Renzo a second glance. Guess I assumed you were upset with him.”
I was upset, but I’m not willing to explain why. Oran would go ballistic if he knew Renzo had kept me in that cabin longer than necessary. It’s proof in my mind of where my priorities lie because I’d rather protect Renzo than tell my brother the truth.
“I was dealing with a lot of complicated emotions. Plus, I was worried how things might change with you guys when I got back.”
“Change? In what way?”
“Like when you wanted to walk me to my apartment. I didn’t want you to revert to being overprotective and keep me from doing my part.”
Oran takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna lie. The thought had occurred to me, but I dismissed it as soon as it formed because I know you.”
“You know I’d never let that happen.”
“I know you can take care of yourself,” he quietly says the words that speak to my soul.
“Thanks, O.” I have to clear my throat to recover my voice. “The thing is, as it turns out, I think I’ll be the one taking myself out of the game.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I love Renzo, and I want to be with him. I know the score. I can’t have a foot in both worlds—the Irish and Italian. He’s the Moretti boss. If I want to be with him, I have to be all in. No more Byrne family business.”
“But you love your job. You’ve fought tooth and nail to be one of the toughest bastards in our family.”
I grin at that, though it’s tinged with sadness. “I appreciate that more than you can know. I do love working with all of you, but as it turns out, I love Renzo more.”
His face splits in a smile that’s pure delight. “Well, fuck me sideways. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“That I’d settle down?”
“That you’d value anything over that badass image of yours,” he ribs me in full big brother mode. He’s got that same cocky glint in his eyes he used to get when he was giving me hell as a kid. I love it. That was our dynamic, and getting a taste of the old days fills my heart with warmth.
“At some point, I was going to start making you guys look bad. I figure better to retire before it comes to that.”
He yanks the pillow off the sofa next to him and flings it right at my head. I deflect it, of course, giving into a fit of laughter.
“Make us look bad,” he grumbles playfully. “Fat fucking chance.”
I flash him a feisty grin as I retrieve the pillow and put it back in its proper place. “Everything ready for the wedding next week?”
“I assume so. I’ve been putting together a surprise honeymoon.”
“Exciting! Where to?”
“It’s a surprise, loose lips. I’m not telling you.”
“I do not have loose lips,” I shoot back with exaggerated audacity.
“Regardless, I’m not telling you,” he says smugly. “But that reminds me. Did you know Renzo’s in Canada searching airstrips?”
I shoot to my feet, all levity instantly incinerated. “Are you serious? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” My reaction is so visceral that I surprise myself with the intensity of my emotions. What if he finds them? What if they outnumber Renzo’s crew and hurt him? A thousand questions amp up my fear and anxiety, rushing at me like a swarm of angry wasps.
“I didn’t talk to him myself,” Oran says in his defense. “Gino, his uncle, got in touch with Conner. Said Renzo had found the hangar. It was rented under the name Kola, but that didn’t mean anything to either of us aside from confirming our suspicions that they were Albanian.”
My heart loses its footing during a dead sprint and ends up slamming against my ribs.
Kola. It can’t be a coincidence.
“What is it?” he demands, his spine stiffening.
God, please tell me I’m wrong. Please don’t let this whole thing be my fault.
“The name might mean something to me, but I need to look into it. I’ll get back with you.” I don’t want to say anything more unless I have definitive proof.
“You do anything that needs backup, you call me.”
“If it gets to that, I will. I’m hoping to get an explanation about something before I cause an unnecessary stir.” I minimize my concerns to Oran, but the more I think about it, the more certain I am that I’ve been blind. Coincidences like that don’t happen out of nowhere. Not in my world.
I leave his place and rush home to my computer. I pull up the provider I use for background checks and enter the name Mari Cola along with her birthdate and anything else I know about her, which actually isn’t all that much.
Zero matches.
Fuck.
I spendthe rest of the evening doing as much internet research as possible and decide to go by her place the next morning when I know she’ll be at work. I don’t have a key, but that sort of thing has never stopped me before. I let myself inside and take in the surroundings with new eyes.
She keeps everything surprisingly neat for a creative personality. Not evidence of anything, but something of interest. I carefully look through her drawers and closet. The place is small, so it doesn’t take long. I don’t find anything noteworthy. Not a single suspicious tidbit anywhere.
Could I be wrong? Kola and Cola are so similar that I can’t discount the possibility she’s connected. I’m going to have to talk to her in person.
I get out my phone.
Me: Hey, any chance we can get together and talk?
Mari: I had to pop out of town. We can get together when I get back next week.
Ugh, next week. I hate to wait that long, but I don’t want to alarm her. If she is behind the gun theft, the last thing I want to do is tip her off that we’re onto her. And if she’s not a part of this, I don’t want to fuck with her emotions and let her think I’m taking her back when I’m not.
Me: K, the 4th work? We could meet for coffee.
Mari: that works
Mari: I’m glad you reached out. I’ve missed you.
God, I hate this.
Me: Same. Looking forward to seeing you.
If the bestthing about short hair is not hindering me in a fight, a close second is how easy it is to do. No matter if I’m going to a wedding or grabbing lunch with friends, my routine is essentially the same. One look. No fuss.
No fancy updos for me today, but I do take a bit more time on my makeup. Oran and Lina are getting married, and Renzo will be there. I’m going to tell him how I feel. I took the two weeks I’d promised myself to think it through, and I’m sure of my decision. I want to be with him.
I’m so eager to finally see him again that my palms sweat while I get ready. I’m dressed and pacing my living room a full two hours before I need to start the trek from the city out to Staten Island for the wedding. That’s when the text comes in.
Mari: Hey, I was able to get back early. Want to meet up?
This is perfect! I can talk to her then go to the wedding with answers.
Me: Yeah, Brew House in ten?
Mari: Can we make it an hour?
I can’t imagine our visit will last more than an hour, which is when I need to leave for the wedding. It’ll be cutting things close, but it’s doable. I’m desperate for answers. I’d rather use this time to talk to her than let it linger a minute longer.
Me: Works for me, see you then.
She hearts my text, setting our date. All I need to do is change dresses to something that will conceal a gun, and I’m good to go.