35. Cruz
Chapter 35
Cruz
One Year Later
B ria greets me at the door, looking uncharacteristically harried as the dogs bark in excitement. “Thank God you’re here,” she says, thrusting her fussy baby at me. “Can you hold her for a sec? I have something in the oven and I think it might be burning and there’s apple juice all over the floor!” A beep sounds from the kitchen and she hurries off, her rant fading.
I step inside and shut the door, looking down at the tiny human in my arms. “Hey, Jules.”
Juliet’s huge gray eyes glitter with tears, but her seriousness melts into a drooly grin when I smile at her. I swear, this is the happiest kid on the planet. And maybe the cutest, too … for now.
“Sorry about that,” Bria says as I walk into the kitchen with Juliet. She sets a huge pan of lasagna onto the countertop as Liam wipes up the floor with a wad of paper towels. “We’re a hot mess today.”
“Hi, Uncle Cruz,” Liam mumbles, pouting as he works.
“Hey, Liam.” I chuckle as their pit bull Bacon noses his way over and starts licking the sticky mess. “What’s going on?”
“Spilled my juice,” he says, peeking at Bria.
“Juice he was sneaking,” she says, ruffling his hair with her oven mitt.
“Ah.” I look around. “You guys need any help?”
“We’re good for the moment,” Bria assures me. Crisis seemingly averted, she tosses her oven mitts aside and turns off the oven. “How’s Maeve feeling?”
“Better. I think her morning sickness is finally dying down,” I say, letting Juliet play with the cross around my neck.
“Thank God. The wedding will be hectic enough without her feeling like she needs to puke every five minutes.”
“Yeah,” I agree, distracted once again by Juliet’s adorable smile. She looks a lot like Bria, but with her dad’s eyes and smirk. I wonder if our baby will look like me or Maeve.
“You really love your uncle, huh?” Bria laughs, gently taking her daughter back. “She’s always so happy with you.”
I shrug. “I think she’s just happy.”
“Not when she’s teething,” Bria laments, proceeding to kiss Juliet’s face until she squeals. “She’s been having a rough day.”
“Is this good?” Liam asks from the floor.
“Yeah, but we should mop it so it doesn’t get sticky, okay?” she says, bouncing Juliet. “Can you grab the mop from the laundry room?”
“Fine.” Sighing dramatically, he trudges away.
“You can go on up, Cruz,” Bria says. “Lucky should be off the phone soon—there was a shipping emergency in Belfast or something.”
I jog upstairs to Lucky’s office, knocking on the door. He opens it with the phone pressed to his ear, motioning for me to come in. Tristan’s on the couch with Owen, talking quietly. They rise as I walk over, clapping my back.
“How’s Maeve? You ready for the big day?” Owen asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I smile, thinking about the last few months of near-frantic planning. “Maeve’s excitement is through the roof, though.”
“Not surprising,” says Tristan. “She’s been planning that shit since we were kids.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Lucky’s saying, fingers pressed to his eyes. He’s obviously over the conversation. “Fine. Just tell ‘em it’s the same order as last time. Great. Thanks.” Disconnecting with a giant huff, he tosses his phone onto the desk. “Hey, man. Sorry about that.”
We knock fists. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks for coming by,” he says, sitting on the edge of his desk. “You’re probably up to your eyeballs in wedding prep.”
“There’s not that much more to do, actually,” I say. “Maeve was lying down for a nap when I left.”
“Good, good.”
“So, what’s up?” I ask, glancing at the other men. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great.” Lucky pauses, rubbing his chin. “But we’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”
“I’m listening.”
“You know I had my doubts when we first met, but you’ve proved me wrong. You treat my sister well?—”
“You treat her extremely well,” Owen interrupts.
“Yes.” Lucky smiles, canting his head. “You do. You work hard, you don’t complain, and you keep your mouth shut about the Red Sox even though I know you have opinions.”
I shrug. “Well, I’m more of a basketball fan. Don’t shit on the Knicks, and we’re good.”
They all chuckle.
“All right, all right. Once you and Maeve are married, you’ll officially and legally be a part of this family.” He smiles a little. “There are responsibilities that come with that. A reputation to uphold.”
I wish I could say I didn’t see this coming, but I did.
When I moved to Boston, I was starting over. Again. And because I had no one in this city except for the Kellys, they became my people. Maeve and I moved into an apartment blocks away from Lucky and Bria, and I joined the crew at Kelly Logistics. I even started working out at Callaghan’s with Tristan and going to Mass with everyone on Sundays.
Family dinners. Birthdays. Anniversaries. One day, at brunch after church, I looked around the table and realized that the Kellys had become my family. They’d accepted me when Maeve chose me, giving me a sense of unconditional belonging I hadn’t felt in years.
But marrying Maeve means I’m going to be closer than close, so I knew the day was coming when Lucky would ask me to choose. Am I in, or am I out? I know he trusts me, but he wants to know if he has my loyalty .
“We look out for our own, and we protect what’s ours. I need to know that if push comes to shove, you’ll have our backs. Because we have yours.” I know what he’s asking of me. It’s not just about being a good husband to Maeve or not making waves. It’s about committing to the Kellys’ way of life.
It’s about Saoirse.
“I understand,” I say with a brief nod. The me of ten years ago never would have believed what I’m about to say. “Maeve means everything to me, and by extension, so do you guys. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Are you sure about that?” asks Lucky, his voice deceptively soft. “You can take time to think about it if you need, because once you go down the rabbit hole, there’s no coming out.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“Would you pledge your life?”
This is it. My heart skips a beat as memories of the oath I once took as a police officer flash through my mind. I’d been so young then, so sure of myself. Everything was clear cut. But like I told Maeve, good people exist on both sides of the spectrum.
The Kellys might engage in morally gray and even illegal activities to protect their interests, but they do so with a sense of honor. I’ve watched them protect each other, and often their community, in ways the law can’t or won’t.
There’s nothing else out there for me. Nothing else I want.
I look Lucky in the eye, unblinking. “I would.”
“We’re bound by loyalty, not the law, Cruz. Will you keep Saoirse’s secrets and uphold the code?”
“Yes.”
“Do you promise never to betray us?”
“I promise.”
“Do you pledge your life?” he asks, changing the wording of his previous question to something definite.
“Yes, I do.” I wait a beat for the emotional ambiguity of what I just did to hit me, but it never does. Instead, there’s a sense of relief. Like the inevitable has happened, and all is as it should be.
Lucky shakes my hand and pulls me into a hug. “Welcome, brother. ”
Owen thumps my back in approval. “Good man.”
“This calls for celebration,” Tristan says, plucking a bottle of whiskey from the bookshelf.
Letting myself into the apartment, I stride past the garment bags and boxes of wedding supplies clogging our living room and head for the bedroom. Thank God we’re down to the last ten days. If I never see another seating chart or swatch of fabric, it’ll be too soon.
My wife-to-be yawns at me from her nest of blankets. “Hi.”
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I tease.
“Haha,” Maeve says, her voice husky with sleep. We’re at the end of her first trimester, and while she’s not showing yet, the nausea has been real and so has the exhaustion. I knew she was struggling when she started cutting back at the ballet studio. “What time is it? I feel like I just laid down.”
I glance at my watch. “Five-ish.”
“Wow.” She sits up against her pillows, loosening her messy bun as it starts listing to one side.
The notebook she carries around to keep track of wedding stuff slips to the floor with a thud. “I thought we were all done with this,” I tease, picking it up and plopping it on the bed.
She reaches for her ever-present water bottle, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Just finalizing some details. I can’t believe it’s so close.”
“Me neither.” Resting one knee on the edge of the bed, I lean in to kiss her.
“Wait, why do I smell whiskey?” she asks, sniffing me suspiciously. “What exactly did Lucky want?”
Maeve is too smart for her own good, but that’s one of the reasons I love her. I lie down beside her, twirling one of her curls around my finger. It’s gotten long again, and while I really do love it at any length, long is my favorite.
“Cruz.”
“He just wanted to discuss a few things. Tristan and your dad were there, too.”
Her eyes narrow. “What did they want to talk about? ”
“What do you think?”
“They got you, didn’t they?” Maeve sighs in resignation. “Unbelievable. I knew Lucky would do this.”
For a long time she wanted nothing to do with syndicate life, but she’s mellowed over the year, accepted it as a part of who she is. Still, I know she worries I’ll get sucked into things that go against my moral code. What she doesn’t realize is that a part of me craves this life. Even the questionable parts. I tried to deny it to myself for a while, but it seems as if all those years of pretending to be someone I wasn’t, built me into a new person altogether.
I might run with a different crew these days, but the principles remain the same. It’s a brotherhood.
I press my palm lightly to Maeve’s still-flat belly. “Are you upset?”
A tiny smile sneaks across her face as she rests her hand over mine. “Nah, not really.”
“Well, how do you feel about it?”
“I don’t know. I need to wrap my head around the fact that my man who used to be a cop pretending to be a bad boy now really is a bad boy.”
“You know my loyalty is to you first. Always.” I kiss her. “And this little guy. Or girl. Everything else comes second.”
Maeve returns my kiss, her lips soft and warm. “I know,” she whispers. “And I trust you. I just worry sometimes.”
I get it. The life we lead, the choices we make, they come with risks. “I get it, but I don’t want you worrying.”
“Then promise me you’ll always come home. No matter what happens out there, no matter what they ask you to do, you’ll always come back.”
“I will.” I tilt her chin up, wanting her to look at me. “I promise.”
“Good,” she says. “Because I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“And my family really loves you too,” she says almost wistfully. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised they wanted to make things official.”