Chapter 8 Stan
EIGHT
STAN
Now that I had a name, any self-recriminations fell to the wayside.
“Kitty?” A rabid hunger surged to life. Desperate to know more, to know anything, everything, I persisted, “You know her?”
“She’s the daughter of…” Conor hesitated. “Well, no. I guess she’s the sister of a high-ranking Five Pointer.”
“Why the hesitation?”
“Because for so long, she was the kid of a foot soldier who served my da. She’s grown up now and Lucas reached heights his father only dreamed of. Cade’s performing well in the ranks, too.” Conor paused the still. “She’s Five Points, Stan.”
I could hear the warning in his tone.
Knew he was telling me to back off.
“So’s Jennifer.”
“We didn’t know that at the time.”
“You think Luc would have let her go because she was your cousin?”
“We’d have made him pay for thinking he could have her,” Conor reasoned.
His rationale didn’t diminish the feverish need to know more about this ‘Kitty.’ Not when it rippled through me like the beginnings of a tidal wave about to swarm the shore.
“What’s her last name?”
Conor snorted out a laugh. “If you think I’m going to tell you that, you’re dumber than you look.”
I cracked my knuckles. “The first delivery of candy will be with you tomorrow.”
“Consider the debt paid if you leave Kitty alone.”
My teeth bared at that before I repeated, “The candy will be with you tomorrow.”
“Dammit,” Conor sniped, low enough for me to hear as I stormed over to the elevator and jabbed the button for the floor below.
I caught sight of Conor watching me in the hall, his cell to his ear, so I tipped my chin.
No one told a Valentini what did or did not belong to them.
Conor’s eyes narrowed before the doors edged to a close, and bare seconds later, the elevator spat me out onto the head of the Five Points’ floor.
The foyer consisted of a blank box room with a relatively boring doorway. Once upon a time, this story had housed several apartments, before Aidan O’Donnelly had bought them all up and made it into one property.
For some bizarre reason, I knew a chunk of the O’Donnelly family resided in this building.
I knocked on Aidan Jr.’s front door, but when no one answered, I texted Jen. A few seconds later, the door tumbled inward and my sister-in-law stood there, sporting a frown.
“You weren’t long.”
“I promised I’d tell you if I was leaving, but you can stay. I’ll grab a cab and have some guards pick you up—”
“Irish guards can take me home.”
That was the wrong thing to say after my conversation with Conor. “You’re Sicilian now, Jennifer. I’ll send Sicilian guards to collect you.”
An impish smile curved her lips. “Nice to see you there, Stan.”
“What?” I snapped, aware that my shoulders had bunched.
Eyes wide, she leaned into me. “She’s real, huh?”
I had no idea what it said about me that the only person I’d told about the angel/Kitty situation was my sister-in-law. I didn’t think it was solely down to her being a connection to Conor O’Donnelly that I could exploit, either.
Somewhere over the years of her marriage to my asshole brother and after popping out the little queens that were my nieces, she’d become someone I could call a friend.
Because I owed it to her, I nodded.
Jen fist-pumped the air. “Did Conor get you a name?”
“He did. Her first name. But he won’t tell me much else.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s Five Points.” By association. He’d called her a daughter and a sister, not a wife. And she was a nurse. Not waiting for a mobster husband. That mattered.
“Of course she is!” Jen hooted. “God, your luck, Stan.”
Another voice slipped into the mix, asking, “Who’s Five Points?”
I did a visual sweep over the large expanse of Manhattan real estate and found two women listening in to our conversation—Star Sullivan and Savannah O’Donnelly.
Sweet fuck, my reflexes were on the fritz. I hadn’t thought to check the perimeter for anyone else and I’d known there were other people in the fucking apartment.
Cristu.
I was out of practice. Years out of it. My reaction time had dulled to the point of being shameful. That I hadn’t been grievously injured in my work as Capo proved Patri and Accursio truly were watching over me.
But these women, while my sister-in-law’s friends, were Irish royalty and I was the Sicilian Capo on their turf, so that meant politics.
“Ladies.”
My greeting had Jen hooting for a second time. “You don’t have to be polite to these bitches.”
“Charming!” Star stirred her coffee but looked like she could use her spoon to slit my throat if she wanted.
On the other hand, Savannah only sliced into a piece of cake with her fork before waggling it at us. “I’ll graciously take it. Even if he does look a little worse for wear.”
“I love my brother-in-law, Savannah,” Jen complained. “If Aidan finds out you’re drooling over him, he’ll throw acid in his face, so don’t be too nice!”
“I’d like to see O’Donnelly try,” I grated out.
Delight cascaded in Jen’s eyes, her glee as effervescent as a freshly popped bottle of Dom Perignon. “Stan?”
“What?”
She blinked. “Nothing.”
“No. Not nothing. What, Jen?”
“I-It doesn’t matter.”
It did, but I wasn’t in the mood to push it.
“What’s her name?” Jen prompted, hand yanking on the sleeve of my sports coat. “Maybe Savannah and Star know her?”
The temptation was too strong to ignore, but I remained wary: “Like I said, she’s Five Points.”
The sound of heels tapping on polished marble had me seeking the source. Savannah was practically feline in how she approached us—a woman on the hunt.
“Did I hear right? Conor warned you off her?”
Hands in her pockets, Star slouched over to join us, meaning that our group of four hovered in front of the door when the entire apartment had to be over fifteen thousand square feet.
Make that make sense.
At my prolonged silence, Star questioned, “Conor? We’re talking about my Conor? He warned you off someone?”
I gritted my teeth together. “He did.”
The women shared a glance.
I was starting to understand why Macbeth had caved under the pressure of an audience with the three witches.
“Look, sisters weird, I have things to—”
Savannah grabbed my arm and dragged me deeper into the apartment. “What was the woman’s name?”
“Why?”
At my blunt nonanswer, Star muttered, “He’s lucky we’re not witches or I’d have turned him into a fucking frog by now.”
Jen, the traitor, cackled, but I ignored her to focus on Savannah, who answered, “Because we’ll help you find her.”
“Why would you do that?”
Savannah’s smile turned winsome. “A favor for a favor?”
The tension in my shoulders released. “What type?”
“I’m writing an article on street drugs.”
“You want to interview me?” At her eager nod, I sighed. “Fine.” That wasn’t a bad deal. Gimme chemist talk over mob talk any day of the fucking week. “Her name’s Kitty.”
Star tsked. “Some things in this life are free, Savannah.”
“Not in our world.”
“The Five Points are already allied with the Famigghia,” Jen pointed out.
“Yes, but this is personal.” Savannah beamed at me. “Now, Kitty… Only one Kitty we know who Conor would be protective of, right, Star?”
“Yup. Because her dad died.”
I could feel my heart drop a beat at the news of a fate we both shared—a father lost before his time.
“There are a few Catherines in the ranks. Maybe there’s more than the one Kitty we don’t know of but Conor does.” Savannah tapped her chin. “What color’s her hair?”
“Silver.”
“Last I saw, it was gray.” She proceeded to retch. “I only know because we had to go to church last week with the mother-in-law.”
“Why did you have to go to church?”
“Jen, be grateful Luc doesn’t make you go. Lena found out that Aidan did this…” She broke off, smiled at me again, and course-corrected, “…thing and insisted he atone. She wouldn’t shut up about it so he went. Honestly, this religious bent of hers is getting worse—”
“Why did he make you go too?” Star questioned like I wasn’t standing here. “She only told him to go.”
“Because he can be a real bastard when he wants to be.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “All I did was write one little article about prostitution in the city and what does he do? Drags me to church too. I told him I’d have preferred a spanking—”
Jen taunted, “You’re a dirty bitch, though, and would have enjoyed that punishment.”
I cleared my throat. “As fascinating as this is, ladies, I have things to do.”
“By the looks of it,” Star derided, “it’s not eat or sleep or exercise.” Her nostrils flared. “Or shower by the smell of you.”
“I showered!”
“When? Last week?”
“Yesterday as a matter of fact.”
Star pulled a face. “Thought as much. One thing you always remember is the stench of ‘man’ after serving in the sandbox. Women manage to keep it centralized to themselves, you know? Men waft it around like it’s Axe.”
Jen and Savannah laughed, but I narrowed my eyes at her. “Feel free to let me leave if my stench bothers you that much.”
“If anything, it’s proof that we have to help you. Poor Jen can’t share a car with you stinking like this again.” Her brow lifted. “Did you forget about that problem we’re having with the Albanians? You can’t leave Irish turf unattended.”
Fuck, I had forgotten.
“He’s not that bad,” Jen chided, but the way her nose wrinkled told me Star wasn’t lying.
“Conor never said anything.”
“Duh. He’s a boy who grew up with other stinky boys. He’s used to that smell. In fact, it’s enough to make me pity Lena, which should be a crime.” Savannah tutted. “Now, Kitty. Are you ready for her last name?”
“If it means this’ll end, you’ve no idea how ready I am—”
“Ungrateful,” Star chastised.
“Frasier.”
“Frasier? Like the show, Savannah?”
Why did I know that name?
“Yes. Her brothers form my security detail, but Lucas does a lot of side work for Aidan.”
Fuck, yeah. I knew them. Cade and Lucas Frasier. Aurora had told me about them and, shit, a sister of theirs who was a nurse!
When?
God, I had no idea when she'd told me about the Frasiers, and there was no way in fuck I’d talk to her about this.
“So I have to go through Aidan too?”
That was when it came to me—Aurora had tried to set me up on a date with the Frasier sister.
Holy fuck, I could have met my angel years before!
“Doubtful.” Savannah shrugged. “Aidan’s not like Conor. But it might be wise to talk with him before you do anything.”
I raked an agitated hand through my hair. “I don’t understand.”
“You’ve lost the ability to speak English…” Star studied her nails. “…as well as shower frequently?”
“No! Conor warned me off her. You three gave me her name. I know that you wouldn’t if I were an ax murderer, but still—”
Jen patted my arm. “You’re a good man, Stan.”
“Yeah, okay.” Star scoffed. “If he’s a good man, then I’m as pure as the driven snow. Not.”
“Star!”
“Never mind that, Jen. Kitty’s a bitch.” Savannah grinned. “I’d enjoy watching her tame our man Stan.”
That was when I realized they’d positioned me in the center of their circle.
As images of Macbeth and his meeting with the Weird Sisters flashed before my eyes again, I breathed, “Kitty Frasier?”
“Think it’s short for Catriona,” Savannah added.
“Spelled the Irish way. Kah-tree-oh-nah.” Star rolled her eyes. “You know how the Irish love to add extra vowels in unusual places.”
“I love that,” Savannah purred. “That’s why my first kid had all the vowels in all the right places.”
“She’s literally called Aidan.”
“Exactly, Star! What about what I just said was wrong?”
As Jen waded into this discussion as someone who possessed a veritable cornucopia of vowels in her own birth name, I let their conversation phase out.
Catriona Frasier.
The name whispered through my mind.
Along with the word—
Mine.