Chapter Five
Maureen
“Your father is the reason mine died in prison,” I told him.
I couldn’t believe I was sitting across from Justin Cimorelli. I remembered him as a little boy, barely two years old. His mother, Kara, was my friend. I missed her when they left.
Until my father was arrested.
Then I was angry.
I was hurt.
I had been betrayed. We all had. Eduardo took care of the books. No one understood why Eamon, the former boss and Sal’s father, had brought someone in that wasn’t Irish.
Eduardo was Italian.
Duane thought he was a plant. A spy sent to learn about the organization. When Eduardo and Kara disappeared, Sal took over.
He was only thirty. One of the youngest bosses in the organization. Sal killed his father and led with an even harder fist than Eamon had.
“Maureen,” King called softly. “Tell us what happened.”
“Are you crazy? I’m not telling you shit.” I stood from the table again and walked to the door. “Move, or I will move you myself.”
The men standing behind me laughed, while the one before me just smirked. He looked over my shoulder briefly, then his smiled dropped and he puffed out his chest. He was trying to scare me. He didn’t realize I didn’t scare easy.
Not anymore.
He wasn’t small, but I had taken down bigger men than him.
“Just remember, I warned you,” I leaned in and whispered, just before kneeing him in the balls.
When he doubled over, I pushed him to the side and slammed my hand against the wooden door, pushing it open.
I only got a few feet into the room before large hands pulled me back against a solid chest. My feet lifted off the floor, and I found myself bent over a table, just as I heard a woman yell.
“Dad, what the fuck are you doing? Let her go!”
The sheriff.
I should have known. This was the second time in as many days that this man had bent me over something. I hated the way my body reacted to him. I blamed it on the past five years without sex.
Duane tried. But when he got the cancer diagnosis, we knew the medication he was on would have certain side-effects.
He took care of me as best he could, but it just wasn’t the same as being bent over the furniture and fucked.
“Beck, I told you not to come over here,” he hissed.
“Since when do I listen to any of you? I knew when Micah called there was something going on.”
Micah? His name was Justin.
I lifted my head and looked around the room for him.
Locking my eyes on him, I hitched an eyebrow and waited.
“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours,” he said. I narrowed my eyes at his glib attitude.
Did I care?
Did I need to know what happened when his family left Boston? Or could I just sell the house I hadn’t even seen yet and go somewhere else?
I let out a heavy breath and nodded.
I did care.
I needed to know.
Kara was my friend, and despite the betrayal, I needed to know what happened to her.
“Let her go, Dec,” Blade demanded.
“No.”
“Dad. Let her go.”
I heard the soft words of the sheriff’s daughter and felt him release my arms. When he pulled away from me, it took everything I had not to whimper at the loss of heat.
I had felt him pressed against my ass.
He was big.
I wondered what he would feel like inside me. Until I turned around and saw the glare in his eyes.
“Next time I have to contain you, your ass will be in a cell. I don’t care who says a fucking word.”
He turned around and stomped back into the room we came from.
“I am so sorry. I don’t know what has gotten into him. He never acts like this, not with women,” Beck said.
I remembered meeting her last night. She was with Justin. She was pretty. I saw the sympathy in her eyes. It wasn’t her fault her father was an ass.
“I seem to bring out the worst in him.” I tried to smile, but I knew it didn’t reach my eyes.
I didn’t smile anymore, unless I was talking to Colleen.
My daughter made me smile. She was the only good thing in my life these days. God, I missed her. I still hadn’t called her. I should have called last night to let her know I was settled, but I wasn’t sure I was.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“Maureen, we need to get back in there,” Justin said, his hand on my elbow.
“Micah, what’s going on?”
“Babe.”
“Don’t give me that club business bullshit.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I will tell you once I have all the information. I wouldn’t keep this from you,” he stated, looking at Beck.
“This is about your father.” She sighed. “The man is dead. Can’t he stay that way?”
“I’m sorry. This is my fault,” I told her.
I didn’t want her to be angry with Justin. It wasn’t his fault.
“How?” she asked.
I opened my mouth to tell her, and Justin interrupted.
“I will tell you everything, I promise.” He leaned over and kissed her.
“Ok, but keep my dad in check. You know how he can get if he thinks I’m in danger.”
“I know,” he agreed.
“King too,” she said.
King.
If the sheriff was her father, that would make King her uncle. He was the sheriff’s brother. I wondered how the sheriff knew Gaelige, but King didn’t. I let that thought wander as we walked back into the room and Justin closed the doors behind us.
“Why does she call you Micah?” I asked before anyone said a word.
“Because that’s my name.”
“No, it isn’t. Your name is Justin. Kara named you after her father. It would devastate her that you changed your name.”
“My mother didn’t give a shit about me or my name. We were in WITSEC. My name changed so many times I lost count. Micah was the name Becca knew me by. That was the one I kept. That was the only one that meant anything to me, because of her.”
“Your mother loved you,” I whispered.
“Not enough to protect me.”
I closed my eyes and remembered my friend. We met in grade school. Grew up together. She was my best friend. When Eduardo came around, Kara quickly became obsessed with him. She told me once it was because he wasn’t Irish. He was mysterious. She didn’t want to marry into the life.
She did it anyway.
And it cost us our friendship.
It cost Kara her family.
In the end, it cost Kara her life.
“What happened to her?” I asked, refusing to open my eyes, knowing the tears would fall if I did.
“They killed her.”
My shoulders dropped, and I couldn’t contain my grief any longer. I let the tears fall.
For my friend.
For her family.
For the little boy I once knew, who now sat before me a man.
“She was my best friend.”
“Then why didn’t you help her?”
I looked up at the angry eyes of the sheriff. His words pierced my heart.
“How dare you? You have no idea what my life has been like.”
Turning back to Justin, I smiled warmly.
A real smile.
“I remember you. You were such a sweet little boy. Kara and I used to dream about you and Colleen growing up, falling in love, and getting married. Then we could be grandmothers together. Sharing our grandchildren, not competing against each other for their attention.”
“Colleen is your daughter?” King asked, placing his hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t realized he had moved beside me. The sheriff growled, and I figured he wasn’t too happy about me wishing this man was with someone other than his daughter.
“Yes. She is about eight months older than Justin.”
“I don’t remember her. I don’t remember you,” he admitted.
“No, you wouldn’t. You were barely two years old when your family disappeared.” I needed to ask the hard question. I needed to know what happened. “How did she die? Did she suffer?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it happened. All my father said was that they killed her.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
I smiled again. “She got to see you grow up. Do you have any siblings? Did she have more children? Kara always wanted a big family.”
“No. She said she wouldn’t bring any more children into the life we lived. She said it was bad enough they had to raise me that way.”
“I’m so sorry.” I placed my hand on his arm. “Your father was an asshole.”
The corner of his mouth hitched. “Yea, he was.”
“Enough of this shit.”
“Why are you such an asshole?” I asked the sheriff, turning in my seat to glare at him.
“Woman, I want to know why the fuck you are in my town.”
King turned to his brother. “Your town?”
“Yes, my fucking town,” he barked.
“Keep telling yourself that,” King mumbled. “Maureen, why are you here?”
“My husband died last—”
“Murdered. Your husband was murdered.”
I narrowed my eyes at the sheriff. I felt the anger rising in me. Every antagonizing word he said to me caused my blood to boil.
“My husband was murdered last year. I waited the year I was required, and then I left.”
“You don’t leave the Mob.”
“No, men don’t leave the Mob. Women are dispensable. There are rules, and the rule is a widow can buy her way out and leave. That’s what I did.”
“So Sal doesn’t know you’re here?” Justin asked.
“No. I didn’t tell anyone where I was headed. Not even my daughter.”
“Why?” King asked. “If you are free to leave, why not tell them?”
“I didn’t tell my daughter because I wanted to be settled first. I couldn’t risk her letting it slip and Sal knowing where I was going.”
“Why? Why can’t Sal know?” the sheriff questioned.
I took a heavy breath. I didn’t want to tell them what I suspected. That Sal was the reason my husband was dead. I had to tell them something, so I gave them a half truth, and hoped it would be enough.
“When a made man is married and he dies, the widow is given three options. She can stay on, collecting half her husband’s pay, she can remarry to another made man, or she can buy her way out and leave Boston. I chose option three. Sal wasn’t happy about that. He wanted me to stay and marry him.”
“FUCK!”
The sheriff punched the wall behind him, and the door to the room flew open.
Beck stood there.
“What the fuck? Micah, I told you to contain him.” She rushed to her father and grabbed his hand as she glared at him. “Are you trying to break it?”
“I’m fine.”
“You aren’t fine. It could be broken,” Beck argued.
“It’s not broken; it went through the sheetrock.”
“Why are you punching walls?”
The sheriff looked down at his daughter. “Would you rather I punched him?” he asked, pointing at Justin.
Beck turned a glare on Justin. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Justin quickly piped up at the same time the sheriff answered, “He was born.”
“This is not Justin’s fault,” I yelled.
Beck spun around to me and asked, “Why are you calling him Justin? His name is Micah, or Blade.”
“I’m sorry. I knew him as Justin. It will take some getting used to.”
“Wait, you know Micah?”
I looked at Jus—Micah and waited for him to explain.
“Yea, babe. Maureen knew me when I was a baby. She was friends with my mom.”
“So you’re—”
“Yes, I was with the Mob. I’m widowed and left Boston.”
“Until Sal fucking finds you.”
I glared at the sheriff. Before I could retort, my phone rang.
“Shit, Kristy,” I said, looking at King.
“Go ahead and answer. Apologize and blame me. Tell her we’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Where the fuck are you going?” the sheriff barked.
“She has an appointment to look at the house she bought,” King answered for me, while I answered my phone.
“Hi, Kristy, I’m so sorry. My car broke down last night, and King found me on the road. He offered to let me stay at the clubhouse, and we lost track of time.”
“I bet you did. I would love to lose track of time with King.”
“It’s not like that,” I said, looking at the sheriff. His cold, hard eyes narrowed at me while his nostrils flared, like he knew what Kristy had insinuated. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“No problem. See you soon.”
She disconnected the call, and I sighed.