CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“I come from a long line of farmers,” Declan started softly.
“My ancestors were shepherds, and they were blessed with a fair number of sheep. The McKennas were known for providing a bountiful harvest of wool and sheep meat each year. But all that changed when my great-grandfather stumbled on a dying man in his field. The man looked beaten half to death and had stab wounds everywhere. He was clearly left there to die. But my great-grandfather, being the kind and gentle soul that he was, took this man and brought him home, where he and my great-grandmother tended to his wounds for weeks until he was conscious again.”
Declan swallowed, and I took his hand, gently stroking my thumb back and forth across the back of his hand, and that seemed to ground him.
“When he first came to,” he continued. “The man didn’t say anything.
I suppose he was weary of them, but he accepted their care and hospitality, nonetheless.
He’d also suffered a badly broken leg, so it took him some time to walk again.
It was months before he could put pressure on it, and when he did, he started helping my great-gran around the house, then eventually my great-grandfather with the animals in the field.
Still, he didn’t talk much, and my great-grandparents just accepted it as it was.
Months turned into a year, then a year and a half.
And at that point, they didn’t even know this man’s name; they just called him mo mhac.
Which means ‘my son’ in Irish. Anyway, shortly after the year-and-a-half mark, my great-grandfather and this fellow were working in the field when a group of heavily armed men approached them.
Turns out, this man, whom my great-grandparents had been taking care of and treating like a son, wasn’t some poor, helpless victim in need of aid. He was the heir to the Irish Mob.”
I sucked in a breath, thinking some terrible tragedy must have befallen Declan’s great-grandparents.
It would make sense why his expression was dire, but I wouldn’t dare to speculate.
And despite my burning need to know more, I didn’t push him.
I simply continued the gentle back-and-forth of my thumb, reassuring him of my presence and support.
Declan gently squeezed my hand, then said, “As it turned out, when my great-grandfather found him at death’s door over a year ago, the mob was caught up in some kind of internal war.
Underlings trying to seize power, or something of that nature.
And they’d killed the head of the mob and tried to kill his son.
He somehow escaped his captors as they were on their way to get rid of his body.
Then he passed out in a field, and that’s where my great-grandfather found him.
The armed men who approached them in, coincidentally, that same field, apparently always knew where their heir and subsequent leader was hiding out, but didn’t want to approach until he was fully healed and was ready to take his place as the head of the Irish mafia. ”
“Did they hurt your great-grandparents?” I found myself asking, despite my earlier decision not to interrupt him.
He shook his head. “No, actually. Their leader, who was apparently in his early twenties at the time, offered my great-grandfather a reward for his kindness and compassion in the form of a seat at his right hand in the mob. He argued that he was young and needed a mature voice of reasoning when making important decisions. But more importantly, he needed someone he could trust by his side as he took on the reins as mob boss. My great-grandfather was an old man and had no aspirations beyond the care of his animals and his farm. So he offered up a compromise, his sons. My grandfather and granduncle had no interest in following in their father’s footsteps.
They hated the farm life and years earlier, had left home at sixteen and fifteen to go find their place in the world.
The young mob boss agreed to the compromise since my great-grandfather had vouched for his sons, saying they were good, trustworthy men.
My great-grandfather then wrote his sons a letter explaining the events of the last year, and told them that if they were interested in the offer, they should come home.
And so began the legacy of the McKenna clan amid the Irish mob. ”
“Your mafia?” I choked out, more out of surprise than anything.
“I was. I’m not anymore. Cassidy and I got out shortly after we got our tattoos.” He touched the inked petal on his arm again. “Every child who is born into that life has this exact tattoo to symbolize their ties to the Irish mob.”
“Declan…” I said softly, then paused, not sure how to ask what I wanted. “If… If your family’s legacy was the mob… why did you get out?”
He smiled, then shrugged. “Cassidy wanted to go to school.”
I frowned, not sure that I understood. But because he was Declan and could read my expressions like no one ever could, he chuckled, then continued.
“The mob has some… archaic views on women and education,” he explained.
“And while they adore their women and spoil them with all the luxury life has to offer, it comes with a price. Women in the mob are to be seen and not heard. Protected, yes. But they were never more than simply arm candy meant to be married off for alliances and political advancement.” He sighed.
“To be honest, I was over their backward way of thinking and doing things. And while I still could have gone to college and done whatever job I wanted in the mob, considering they have their hands in every single industry you can think of, I didn’t want that life.
I wanted to choose what I wanted to do with my life, something that benefited me and not the syndicate.
And I wanted Cassidy to be able to do the same.
So, after my father retired, and it was my turn to step up and take his place, I asked for an out for my sister and me instead. ”
“And they just… let you? Just like that?”
He nodded. “See, though most of their operations are criminal in nature, the mob loves contracts. And the original contract that was signed by my great-grandfather stated that, should any of his descendants wish to leave the gangster lifestyle for whatever livelihood they choose to pursue, then they were to be granted this request without fear of retaliation or harm, and were to be granted their fair share of whatever financial resources and assets that were owed to them. The only stipulation was that they could never return to the mob or call on them for any sort of help. So I took the money that was owed to me and invested heavily in my first few companies. I sent Cassidy and myself to school, then kept investing and expanding my businesses. And lucky for me, it worked out.”
“How did your family take you wanting to break from that life?”
His face grew somber again. “My dad had already retired at that point, so he was out, and he supported my decision to get out as well. But I have uncles and cousins who are still a part of it. A part of the agreement to leave means no contact with whoever stayed. Although I don’t think my cousins hold that particular rule in high regard.
We don’t talk to or see each other ever because it could be dangerous for both our businesses and our lives.
However, they do anonymously send the occasional Christmas or birthday card.
Clann means everything. And whether I’m with the mob or not, we shared blood. And that’s enough for them.”
Then something occurred to me. “Is that why your parents moved back to Ireland?”
He canted his head from side to side. “Yes, and no. Yes, because they were out, and it was safer to distance themselves from mob dealings in the U.S. Dad was formally in charge of operations in the States, and so we ended up having to relocate here when Cassidy and I were kids. And, no, because… they always wanted to retire to the farm that was left to them. The original farm lands are still in my family’s name and continue to be passed down through generations.
My great-grandfather had gone on to turn the farm and its lands into a thriving manufacturing enterprise.
So now my parents have more land and more money than they currently know what to do with.
Plus, they’re getting older, and Mom says she just wants a bunch of grandkids to chase around the fields.
Cassidy is looking into moving back home to grant her that wish. ”
I smiled. “You called it home.”
Declan smiled back, his face bright with youthful pride. “Well, yeah. I was born there. And though I don’t remember much of my earlier years in Ireland, it still feels like home whenever I visit.”
I brought his hand to my lips and brushed a kiss across the back of his fingers. “Then you should visit more often. Nothing beats the feeling of coming home.”
He took my face in his hands and brushed a light kiss across my lips—sweet and tender, there one minute and gone the next.
“Will you come with me?” he asked. “Visit the farm and meet my parents?”
A bolt of nervous energy shot through me. And all at once, I was overwhelmed. Funny how Declan telling me about his past with the Irish mafia hadn’t done that, but the idea of meeting his parents did.
I felt lacking somehow. Like I would be robbing Declan and myself of the genuine experience of engaging with his parents as his girlfriend and partner for the first time, because I was still tied to Seth.
Goddammit, Seth. Just sign the divorce papers and be done with it already. He was ruining the best thing that ever happened to me, and he didn’t even know it.
Lost in my thought, I’d taken too long to answer Declan’s question, and his face fell.
His defeated expression broke my heart, and as if on instinct, I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a fierce hug.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly in his ear. “I took too long to answer, but I promise you there isn’t a doubt in my mind about visiting your ancestral homeland or meeting your parents.
I just… I got caught up in my emotions. I don’t want to cheapen such a truly life-changing moment by still being married to my ex when I meet your parents.
But I promise, I will give you an answer the second those divorce papers are official. ”
Declan smiled, then pulled away to look me in the eye. “You promise?”
“I do.”
“And the ex-mafia thing doesn’t bother you?” he pressed.
“No, honey.” I shook my head, chuckling at his sheepish expression.
“I appreciate you telling me about your past. But you’re out, and that’s all that matters.
The future is all I care about. Plus, you’ve worked so hard to build a name and reputation for yourself.
Be proud of that, because that is what your legacy will be.
You’ll be known for who you are now, not who you were then.
And I kinda like the you now. Maybe I would have liked the you back then, too, because you’re you and your character doesn’t just change because you’ve switched status.
It just means that you were always a good and kind person.
I might not have dated you back then, because hello, the mob.
But I think I still would have liked you. ”
Declan laughed and drew me in for a kiss that seemed to pull me apart and put me back together again. It was insistent and overwhelming, and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself climbing on top of him as he worked to rid me of my shirt and sleep shorts.
“Wait!” I cried, and Declan promptly halted his frantic movements. “Is that why you looked like a deer caught in headlights the other day when I said that you sounded like a mob enforcer?”
Declan turned an adorable shade of pink, and I laughed because this silly man thought I was going to leave him if he’d told me about his past back then. And how wrong he was. Because even if it killed me, I was never leaving him.
So, I pressed my lips to his again, determined to show him just how much he truly meant to me.