Mob Bride (The O’Rourke Brotherhood #5)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Shane

Dillan sees us first as we enter his office. I texted him while Carrie put her clothes back on, so anything they discussed that Carrie can’t hear ended. All the guys stand as she comes in. Our parents drilled into us anytime a woman enters a room or comes to a table to sit down or leaves, we stand. Immediate family members don’t count. But since Carrie isn’t one yet, they demonstrate etiquette that’s so a part of the core of who we are, we don’t even realize we’re doing it.

Ironically, the other three families are exactly the same. Their parents drilled etiquette into them just as sternly as our parents did. We are the politest mobsters you’ll ever meet.

“Hello, Carys.”

Dillan gestures toward the couch I’m already leading her to. I didn’t think about it while we walked down the stairs, but I’m holding her hand. It doesn’t go unnoticed by any of the guys. She offers him a tight smile when she returns the greeting.

“Hello—everyone.”

She hesitates between words, unsure exactly what she should say, if anything. I make the rounds of introductions, and we’re soon all seated on the sofas, love seats, and armchairs spread throughout Dillan’s office. It’s a converted den he expanded through to a guest bedroom, creating a meeting area large enough for all of us.

They just finished the work a couple weeks ago. We wound up in the dining room when we had family meetings that included our dads. They don’t come on missions very often, but they still do sometimes.

Carrie gives the quick rundown of what she told me. She hides nothing from them and is open about the knowledge she has. It’s not like she confided things in me she was unwilling to tell the others. It pleases me she feels comfortable enough to be that open.

Anything she told me, she knows I would have repeated to my family anyway, so she could have relied on me to do it, but she didn’t. When she finishes explaining how she got involved with Bartlomiej and where things stand now, she sits back against the sofa, and I tighten my hold on her shoulders. She starts to lean against me but catches herself.

I know the guys won’t think she’s weak for it, so I ease her against my side. It only takes a moment before she puts her head on my shoulder. I can tell she’s even more exhausted than she was when we got here.

It’s worn her out having to run for her life, then sharing secrets that could get her in more trouble than she could imagine. Not just with her work and the Poles, but with us.

Dillan speaks first. “Carys, you have our protection. Not just Shane’s, but our entire family. I won’t pretend like part of this isn’t because of your mother, but most of it is because you clearly mean a great deal to my cousin. We will do everything we can to shield you from the Poles, but that doesn’t change who employs you.”

She stiffens, so I press my fingers against her shoulder.

“I know, and that’s still something I have to figure out because as long as I’m still an agent, I have obligations that could wind me up in jail if I don’t fulfill them.”

I sweep my gaze around the room, and I know what the others are thinking. If she reports back to her handlers that we offered her shelter, it’ll only turn their attention to us. None of us believe she will, but if they figure it out, any additional attention could make them realize we’re the ones doing the deal in Eastern Europe. I know it means I’ll hide even more from her than I normally would.

I haven’t had that conversation with her yet about the lies of omission and the boldface lies I’ll have to tell her to protect her, my family, and our men. I don’t know if that’s something she can accept, considering the position she’s already in. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, but it certainly presents yet another challenge.

“I’m taking Carrie to my place. She’ll be safe there, but I want extra guards.”

Dillan looks at me askance as though he’s insulted I’d mention it. “Of course. That’s not even in question. We’ll get those men assigned right away. They’ll be there by the time you get home.”

Uncertain what to say, a simple “thank you” sufficed. We all understand how she feels physically after such an arduous day, and I think we mostly understand how she feels mentally and emotionally. I’m ready to stand and leave with her, even though I know there’re other things for us to discuss. However, we can’t do that with her here, and Dillan’s wife isn’t home from work yet, so Carrie would be on her own. Not only would that be rude, but that’s not what she needs right now.

My big brother opens his mouth but hesitates. Finn’s thinking twice about what he says. He opts for blunt. “What about your work?”

Carrie and I have gone around in circles several times without resolving that. We’ve stated the obvious more than once, but to what avail?

“I have to see them soon. I’ve got to ensure they’re safe, if nothing else. Jacek emailed a bunch of photos to Bartlomiej. They included ones of me meeting with Angela. He’ll have recognized her because we posed her as a friend of mine named Stella. I told Bartlomiej I was going over there for a girls’ night, but it was really the safe house for a check in. Since he knows where it is, they need to get out. There’s a good chance Jacek’s already raided it, assuming I’d eventually go there rather than stay at Misha’s. That’s the last place any of them know I went. He could toss it to find out more about the set up.”

“Carrie, I’m going with you. I’ll wait in the car and make sure they’re none the wiser I’m there, but I’ll be able to protect you if need be.”

“Thank you. I can’t go back to the apartment I was in, but my gun and badge are in the safe, and I tucked my go bag into a nook I made at the back of my closet. There’s a false wall to make it seem shallower than it is. I can’t leave that stuff behind. It’s inevitable they’ll discover it’s false paneling in the closet, and they’ll crack the safe if they’re given enough time. The moment they find my badge, there’s no way Bartlomiej won’t enforce the hit he put on me.

“I’ll get it.”

Seamus offers, but his brother shakes his head. Cormac shoots Carrie a quick smile before looking back at Seamus.

“No, you’ve got stuff going on with Tiernan. I’ll do it.”

What Cormac didn’t say is he’s the only completely unattached guy in the family now, so he has less to lose than any of us. I’d offer to do it, but I feel like I need to stay with Carrie more than I need to be away from her to find that stuff.

“I left my purse in Tymoteusz’s car. It has nothing in there that can incriminate me, but I don’t have the keys to my place anymore.”

Cormac grins. “That’s never stopped me before.”

We all own professional lock picking kits, which are illegal in New York. It was among the first skills we gained when we started our training. We didn’t start carrying knives until we turned twelve, but we got our lock picking sets when we were eight and started practicing, so we were experts by the time we started going on missions when we were fourteen or fifteen. Those were petty crimes. Legit missions where there was a good likelihood we’d die didn’t start until we were sixteen. Such a fucked-up life we lead.

I can’t avoid letting Carrie know those pieces of my history. They aren’t ones I wish to share, and I’m certain realizing how young I started will bother her, but there’s no way to undo the past.

“I’ll take Carrie to my place. Let me know when you have everything, Cor.”

I live in Douglaston, here in Queens. It’s an upscale place, and I love living away from the hustle and bustle of the city. All five boroughs—Queens, Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, and Staten Island—are technically “the city,” but that phrase really means Manhattan. I like the residential feel.

Only Finn lived in what most of us would consider Manhattan. He was in SoHo before he got married. The other guys were in East Harlem or Brooklyn. Harlem’s on Manhattan Island, but it’s not downtown—or rather below the Upper East and Upper West Sides. It has its own feel. Its own vibe, separate from places like SoHo.

Now both my brothers and two of my cousins live here in Forest Hills. Carrie had just as equal a chance of stumbling upon one of my brothers’ or cousins’ houses or another bratva or any Mafia house as she did Misha’s. It was just happenstance she found Misha instead of one of us. When we get to my car, I open the door for her, but she turns to look at me.

“Shane, thank you for everything you’re doing for me. I hate putting you in this position.”

“It’s not your fault, Carrie. Perhaps it’s fate that we met when we did. It might not have been the most convenient timing, but it is what it is, and I’m glad we met.”

“So am I, but you can understand why I don’t love the danger I’m putting you in.”

This seems like as good a time as any to explain what it would really be like being with me.

“ Cailín , get in, and we’ll talk on the way to my place.”

I close the door behind her and walk around to my side. As I open the door, I take a deep breath, girding my loins.

“Being with me puts you in danger you couldn’t imagine, so it’s something we must discuss.”

I glance over at her as I pull out of Dillan’s driveway.

“A few years ago, my uncle led our family, and he made some shite choices that changed the landscape of being in a syndicate in New York. He broke the cardinal rule that women and children are not to be involved. He went after a bratva wife, and he died for it. His cousin, Declan, decided he would change the line of inheritance. It was always the plan that Dillan would step into the role as boss whenever Uncle Donovan died. But Dillan was so pissed at how things went down with Uncle Donovan, he took the only vacation he’s ever had alone.”

Anger and grief war within me, and I’d rather not tell this story. But Carrie needs to understand because she has a choice to make. Accept what I tell her and stay with me or learn the truth and walk away.

“In that time, Declan seized control and made things even worse by retaliating against the bratva for them retaliating against us. He lived the same fate as Uncle Donovan. We just made him an easier target to catch beforehand. We made sure he physically couldn’t get away. He was in no condition to defend himself before we handed him over. Normally, we wouldn’t turn on our own, and we wouldn’t let the bratva think they beat us by being the ones to end Declan’s worthless fecking life, but he deserved what he got. He had a thin hold on his position as mob boss, so he wanted to prove he had real control over the family.”

My hands tighten around the steering wheel until my knuckles are white. Anger and grief have become allies, and they nearly defeat me.

“He ordered hits on my mom and aunts. Before he could call them off, he died for his sins. That didn’t prevent a mercenary from confusing Dillan’s little sister, Colleen, for Seamus and Cormac’s mom. Dillan was with Colleen when a hired gun shot her straight through the forehead. She was a veterinarian who specialized in rescuing abused animals. She’d just adopted a puppy, and she and Dillan were taking it back to her place.”

I swallow the sour bile that rises in my throat. I blink away the tears that always come when I think about this.

“Colleen was the sweetest, funniest, naughtiest kid you could have ever met, and she stayed exactly the same as we grew up. She was the true ringleader in the family. She got us into as much trouble as she could, but she got us out of most of it, too. She had these dimples you couldn’t ignore. They made her look so angelic even when she was being a little devil. Cormac and Seamus always escaped getting in trouble. Even though all our parents knew they were involved, they slipped away before anyone noticed. However, Colleen was their judge, jury, and executioner. She made sure they got their fair share of justice.”

We pull up to a light, and I close my eyes for a moment to compose myself.

“The bratva believed they were the victims in the shitshow Uncle Don and Declan caused, but they weren’t. The two bratva wives who were targets survived Donovan and Declan, but Colleen didn’t. It was because of our own family that we lost her. It’s not open season on women and children, but they don’t enjoy the protections they used to. I can’t guarantee you wouldn’t be a target at some point. I don’t want that to be the case, but it certainly could be.”

I glance at Carrie again. She’s listening attentively. I see sympathy, not fear, in her eyes.

“There are things I will do—things I’ve already done—that make me the same monster as Bartlomiej. I can’t pretend otherwise. I don’t enjoy the things that I do. I don’t get the satisfaction out of it Jacek does, but they are my responsibility to do. Sometimes I’ll lie to you. I’ll look you right in the eye and tell you something so far from the truth you won’t be able to guess what’s really going on. There are other times when I’ll lie by omission. I just won’t tell you what’s happening. I have to do this in order to protect you, my family, and the men who depend upon us. It’s not just those men who depend upon us during missions. It’s their families, too. It’s the entire community that depends on my family to provide for them.”

She rests her hand on my thigh as I speak. The weight’s reassuring. It offers me the same silent strength I hope she got from me when I put my arm around her shoulders earlier.

“I’ll disappear at times. I’ll always do my best to tell you when I’ll leave, but I don’t always know how long I’ll be away. Sometimes I’ll still be in New York, other times I could be halfway across the world. I’ll always ensure you have extra protection when I’m gone. That means a member of my family.”

I know that surprises her because her fingers flex against my leg. But she lets me continue. I think she senses I need to get all of this off my chest in one fell swoop, or I’ll clam up.

“Right now, I’ll have regular guards outside my place, but if we go anywhere, someone from my family will be with us. If you have to go anywhere without me, at least two of the guys at Dillan’s house will be with you. Family means people I share direct DNA with. Three sisters married three brothers, and among them, they had six sons. So, my brothers and Dillan, Seamus, and Cormac. If they’re not available, then it could be my dad or my uncles. No one beyond one degree of separation is good enough. I don’t trust anyone else to protect you how they can. Nobody else but them will understand what it means to me to keep you safe.”

We’re at another light. I watch her as I speak. At first, there were varying degrees of shock, fear, and dismay as I told her as much of the truth as I can. Then I saw the sympathy. Now—it feels like resignation rather than relief.

“Carrie, these are things you must accept if there’s any chance for us. I know it’s hypocritical to expect you to make these changes, while I can make none. It hypocritical I’ll expect you to tell me the truth about anything that could pose a threat to you when I’ll hide everything. But this is the way it’ll have to be. Do you think you can live with that?”

I finally invite her opinion. I’ve unleashed too much because she remains silent, and that’s more unnerving than it would be if she argued with me or even shared her thoughts. I don’t press her, and we ride in silence for the twenty minutes it takes us to cross this part of Queens. We’re almost to my place before she breaks her silence.

“What happens if you have to be gone for several days, and something goes wrong? How would I get in touch with you if I don’t know where you are?”

“It’s rare all of us are gone for several days at a time. But if that happens, I’d want you to stay with my mom and dad.”

“Stay with your parents? You’re just going to have a random woman show up at their door and dump her there?”

“Carrie, you are not some random woman. You know that. You know you mean far more to me than that. I would hope I mean more to you than just being some random guy.”

“You do, but it’s different between us than it would be with your parents. They can’t just have an unwelcome and unplanned houseguest.”

“You wouldn’t be unwelcomed or unplanned. I’d speak to them and let them know what’s going on. My dad would already be privy to whatever’s taking me away. They’d want it this way. Carrie, they’d want you to come to them, so they can keep you safe too. You saw the home Dillan lives in. Our parents and aunts and uncles live nearby. They’re either in the same neighborhood or the one next to it. Dillan’s sits on the corner that adjoins the two the Four Families have basically commandeered. They have an enormous house to accommodate plenty of guests. You wouldn’t be any sort of imposition to them. Just the opposite. I’m certain it would mean a great deal to them to know you trust them enough to stay with them when I can’t be with you.”

“Shane, I don’t know about all this. It’s a lot to take in when—just this morning—I thought I was still undercover.”

“I understand. It certainly makes for a lot of choices, and I’ll give you all the time I can to think about that, cailín . But at some point, you must decide.”

It’s definitely resignation in her tone. “I know.”

“I won’t rush you. You can stay with me for as long as you need. I have more than enough room for you to hang out and not feel like I’m crowding you.”

That makes her fall silent again. I don’t know what her wishes are as far as any type of intimate relations we could have while she’s at my place. I don’t want to assume too much. Obviously, I wouldn’t turn her down, but I also won’t push the issue.

Something else comes to mind, though, as we get closer to my place. “Carrie, how’d the bratva even come to be on your radar? You said they’re your ultimate target.”

She hesitates before she admits another secret. “We have somebody in the Cartel who told us about it. They heard from Enrique the bratva was making plans.”

I’m unsurprised it came from another syndicate and that it was misdirection, but that’s something I keep from her. She’s on a need-to-know basis, and I’m not sure yet what that includes. Until I have a better idea, it’s that hypocrisy making me keep secrets when I expect her to divulge everything.

I know the mole in the Cartel isn’t one of ours, so it makes me wonder whether it’s bratva or Mafia. My assumption would be not bratva, but with the Kutsenkos, who the fuck knows what they have going on and how they’re trying to double-cross someone else. It wouldn’t surprise me entirely if they had a mole sending information to the feds to get them to come after them in order to throw somebody else under the bus first.

We’re all that conniving. It used to be people only believed Dillan was the logistical and strategic mastermind, but it’s become obvious that while he’s the best at it, no one in the families lacks intelligence. People who see us think we’re all muscle-bound idiots or maybe trust fund babies. Most people don’t realize we’re all either Ivy League or Top Tier educated.

Most of us have some type of graduate degree, too. There’re doctors and lawyers among the families, and within the men, there are several lawyers. Seamus, Cormac, and Dillan are the ones in our family, even though Dillan doesn’t get to practice anymore. There’s not a dumb dud in the bunch.

I’m going to have to dig further to find out who’s the narc.

“Shane, what should I tell my handlers? I have to say something, but what’s that going to be?”

“That’s a good question. I don’t have an answer for that right away, but it’s going to have to be something that keeps them pointed toward Bartlomiej, while?—”

“Wait, Shane. Misha saved me. I don’t know that I can actually turn them in after all.”

That gives me pause. Anything that would take down a rival family interests us, and it’s certainly something I would be happy to help happen, but I can’t deny Misha was important today, and that he kept her safe.

But that’s women’s business.

Lord. Did I just fall back in time to the eighteen hundreds?

Even though he was her rescuer, everybody knows helping the women in our families doesn’t suspend the animosity among the men.

“Carrie, I understand that, and I can see how you don’t want to go for them as your target, but it changes nothing about the rivalries among the families. I can’t ignore what you’ve told me.

“So, you’re going to use that information against me? Things I told you in confidence, now you want to flip and use?”

“Not necessarily, but I still have to consider all that comes along with this information. It’s not as simple as just acting like I didn’t hear it.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Carrie, you know I won’t keep these things a secret from my family. I can’t.”

She looks at me, and I can guess what she’s thinking. I’m putting my family ahead of her, but for right now, I still have to. She’s not family. She’s a woman I’m into, but I’m not in love with her—at least not yet—and we’re certainly not married, so I can’t make her the priority when my family has so much at stake.

“I just wish there was some way to inform my handlers about Bartlomiej trying to do more deals with the Armenians, and his involvement with the bratva as a middleman while not putting their name out there explicitly.”

“I don’t know how you’re going to do that, Carrie. It’s one or the other. Here, there’re really no shades of gray. Either you name them, or you don’t.”

What the fuck is she going to do when she finds out it’s not the bratva? Do I lie to her for my family’s sake, and let her keep thinking it’s them, when it’s us, and has been all along?

“Shane, you’re keeping something from me.”

“Carrie, I’m keeping a lot from you, but that’s never going to change.”

“No, I mean right now. There’s something in this conversation you’re not telling me.”

“Like I said, there’s a lot. There’re things that would endanger you if I told you and put my family, and all the people who rely on us at risk. I know you want to understand better what’s going on, but I just told you a moment ago I’m going to lie to you. I’m going to look you in the eye and lie, or I’m going to lie by omission, and I hate that’s reality. The one thing I won’t lie about is how I feel about you and our relationship. But anything else is fair game for me, and I am sorry. I know what a hypocrite that makes me, when I’m demanding so much of you, but it can’t be and won’t be any other way.”

She watches me, and I know she understands, even if she doesn’t like it and doesn’t want to agree. It’s my greatest fear that as I get to know her better, she’ll come to resent all those secrets. All the things I must keep from her. It makes me wonder if that’ll be what drives us apart. Not the actual danger, not her job, but resentment because I won’t give all of myself to her when I want all of her in return.

“Shane, I get it. If the situation were reversed, and this was just about my job, I would be in the same position. There are things I could never tell you about my work, even if you were just a regular guy. I couldn’t share so many details of the things I do. I wouldn’t be able to tell you where I go when I’m undercover. I’d have to juggle that somehow.”

“I know. As much as I want to insist you never go undercover again, I can’t. I can’t push you that far to give up that much when you’re already going to sacrifice to be with me.”

She reflects upon what I said, and I know the way I phrased it comes across as though I think she can keep her job, but I don’t see how that’s possible. I’m picking my family over her, but I’m expecting her to pick me over her job.

This is all such a fucked-up and twisted and broken situation, but it’s unavoidable and one most of the syndicate men face when they find the woman they want to be with. Balancing wanting all from the woman we’re into while giving so little in return. No one else is with someone in law enforcement, though Aleks Kutsenko’s father-in-law is retired NYPD.

I think Carrie’s the one, but we won’t know if we can’t move forward.

“We’re still at square one because you can’t tell me anything, and I have nothing to pass along. Maybe there’s another syndicate involved.”

“The Polish get along with the Italians well enough, often better than they do the Russians, even though they usually never work for the Italians. They stick to Russian construction sites and jobs.”

Her expression gives nothing away as she leans into what I insinuate. “Why haven’t you suggested it could be the Mafia trying to expand?”

“You mean into Eastern Europe? Because the most logical syndicate would be the bratva. The ties between Russia and Poland go back centuries. The Kutsenkos already have a working relationship with the Poles here. It’s the only permutation that seems reasonable.”

“ Seems reasonable.” She catches that one word. “It doesn’t mean it actually is reasonable. I don’t know if you’re truly using logic, or you’re trying to deter me from digging deeper into this.”

“I’m telling you my thoughts. That’s it.”

“What about the facts? You want them from me.” She shakes her head. “I get there are certain things you can’t tell me. But there have to be a few things safe enough for me to know to make sure I’m pointed in the right direction. I don’t want to go after the bratva if it’s not them.”

“If it’s not them for this, then it’s them for something else. That’s always the case.”

“Yeah, but this is what I’m building my investigation on. This is what my boss expects from me. It’s to dig into the Kutsenkos.”

“Can I ask you what evidence besides the spy in the Cartel leads you to think it’s the bratva who’s extending into Eastern Europe?”

“Much of the same things as you said. Their existing relationships in history, mostly. But we know there’s been more money changing hands over there. We’re working on the assumption it’s for the drugs.”

We pull up to my house, and I drive straight into my garage. When she reaches for the door, I put my hand on her thigh and press.

“No, Carrie, you never get out of a car without either a guard or me waiting for you. If we’re pulling into a garage with a driver, you wait until the door is at most an inch from the ground. If you’re alone, only then do you turn off the engine and get out. Even if you’re with me, you wait until I turn off the car before you open the door.”

“Oh, you mean in case you suddenly have to back out in a hurry or in case somebody tries to shoot under the door?”

“Or throw a grenade. There’re many things. You don’t get out of a car in a boxed-in space until you’re sure you’re alone.”

I watch her swallow as she nods. “I feel like that’s something so common-sense they should have taught us at the Academy. I’ve done that on instinct when I would check in with my handlers at the safe house.”

“It is, but we don’t want to give away all our secrets.”

That was the wrong thing to say. She assesses me, and her gaze bores into my soul.

“Shane, you guys are the ones, aren’t you?”

The question dangles in the air, and I’m not quick enough to respond because this is one of those times where I’ve already told her enough outright lies. Now I’m opting for the lie of omission because she needs to decide what she’ll do with that information. Even if I try to deny it, it’s too obvious to her we’re the ones responsible for the drugs expanding farther into Europe. Her shoulders hunch as she leans back into the seat. She tilts her head back with her eyes closed. I don’t press her for her thoughts, and after a moment, she shakes her head and reaches for the door again.

I let her get out, then lead her into my place. Her gaze sweeps over the entryway and into the living room and beyond to the kitchen. It’s a far larger home—a more family-oriented space—than you’d expect for a bachelor, but all of us believe our homes are our sanctuaries. It’s where we go to get away from the outside world and away from the men we have to be. I like my place being cozy. It has touches someone might stereotypically expect a woman to have. I like throw cushions and extra blankets, and I like a sofa that screams take a nap on me. She notices that as well as more of the decor.

I have family photos on the walls, which is something only my parents and aunts and uncles do. None of the other guys have put up photos in their bachelor pads. Mostly because of the chance someone could raid us, and that would just connect more and more people to us. I’ve been very selective about who’s in the background and where those photos were taken before I put them up on the wall. But it’s reassuring to me when I come home each day.

She walks over to a picture of a stunning redhead I’m standing with my arms around and laughing. She looks at me before turning back to the photo. It would almost look like the woman and I are a couple.

“Shane, have you been married before? Are you with somebody?”