THE CALLAHANS (A Mafia Romance): The Complete 5 Books Series (75 page)

I kissed her again, my hand sliding slowly down the side of her corseted bodice. There was something about a corset that was just so damned exciting! The idea of slowly untying it, slowly allowing her body to slip free of it, was hotter than anything else she might be wearing today. Except, of course, for the stockings she’d promised to have on under that impossibly long skirt.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I whispered against her mouth.

“You’re not exactly good for my sanity, either.”

I tugged at her skirt, but there was no way I was getting it up high enough to get any satisfaction. And that corset…

“Hey, Ian?” Stacy knocked at the door. “The photographer wants you back out here for the pictures.”

We both groaned.

“Soon,” I said, running my thumb over her bottom lip to smooth the lipstick I’d managed not to smear too much. “In a couple of hours we’ll be alone, and you’re going to be begging for mercy.”

“I certainly hope so.”

I groaned again, kissing her roughly before finally stepping back. She opened the door, and Stacy simply smiled over the baby’s head as she watched us stride, hand in hand, back into the nave. In less than a minute, we were standing in front of the altar, the photographer positioning us for the perfect wedding photos before calling our families over, one by one, to join in. It was a tedious affair, but I loved looking at my bride in her beautiful dress, so I didn’t mind too much.

We’d been at it about twenty minutes, Mia standing on the altar steps with her father behind her and her mother beside her, all three straining to make their smiles look natural, when someone came running up the aisle.

“There’s been an explosion!”

I didn’t understand what he was trying to say at first. But then I realized it was Tony, one of Jack’s guys, and he was covered in dust.

“Where?” Pops demanded, grabbing him and pulling him back down the aisle a little.

“The reception hall. Someone blew up the reception hall.”

Mia

They rushed us into the limo so quickly that I didn’t see where Ian went. Momma and Seraphina, Amelia and Stacy, the baby and Delaney. Carlo’s wife, Anne, was there, too, and Carmine Jr.’s wife, Sissy. We stared at each other, wide eyed, none of us quite sure what was happening. The baby began to cry, and nothing Stacy did seemed to comfort him. Momma took him and whispered against his ear, and he finally settled down, falling asleep just moments before the car stopped and we were once again shuttled from the car through a dark space to an elevator.

I was so confused, I thought for a minute that we were on our way up to Ian’s apartment. But we must have been in some hotel, though I wouldn’t begin to be able to say which one.

“Where’s Ian?”

No one would look at me. They were all concerned about their own men. Momma came over to me and nudged me with her shoulder.

“They’re trying to figure out what happened and to help anyone who was caught in the explosion.”

“Why would someone blow up the reception hall?”

Again there was silence.

I knew it was a stupid question. I knew there were people who didn’t agree with the pact Daddy and Jack McGuire had made. And I knew that they thought my marriage to Ian was all a sham just because it began as part of that pact. But to blow up the hall I’d spent half of last night decorating with Seraphina and Momma? Why would someone do that?

I paced the length of the room. We were in some sort of suite, the sitting room almost as big as my bedroom back home. Everyone else was sitting, staring at the floor or at their phones. Someone was listening to a news report on a local news channel about the explosion.

“Less than an hour ago, a bomb went off at The Mills, a popular reception hall in Beacon Hill. It is unclear at this time how many were injured, but we’ve been informed that a wedding reception was about to begin there when the explosion took place…”

I walked to the windows and tried to block the sounds of the news report out. There was smoke on the horizon and that just made it more real. Ian was down there somewhere.

“Where are they? Why aren’t they here with us?”

“Because they have to take care of this, Mia.”

Seraphina came up behind me, not touching me. I could see her face in the window.

“Was anyone hurt?”

No one wanted to answer that question, either.

Momma handed the baby back to Stacy and came over. “Let’s get you out of that dress.”

“No. Ian’s supposed to help me with it. I want to wait till he gets here.”

“But Mia, that could be hours.”

“I don’t care. I’m waiting for Ian.”

I could feel them exchanging looks behind my back, but I wasn’t going to acknowledge them. I just stood there in front of the window and stared down at the cloud of smoke rising lazily in the air and waited.

***

We got word from the television, of all things, that ten people had died. They weren’t saying whom, just that there’d been ten people inside the building when it exploded. Police and firemen were all over the building, trying to figure out what’d happened. They didn’t say anything about the Irish or Italian mobs, didn’t mention Jack or Daddy or Brian by name. They didn’t even mention Ian’s name or mine—even though they must have figured out by then that it was our wedding reception that was due to take place there.

People in Boston knew. They understood that the mob lived by a set of rules all their own. They knew that they didn’t say their names or address their alleged crimes unless they were in handcuffs and assured a lifetime cell in a federal prison.

Ten people. I saw the color leave Momma’s face when they said that. I was sure she knew exactly who was in that building then, too. She probably sent them over herself to get ready for the party that should have followed.

We should have been dancing. We should have been eating chicken and drinking champagne and cutting the cake my dad paid nearly a thousand dollars to have baked and decorated. We should have been happy.

All I could think about was what if it had exploded later. What if the building had been filled with my family and friends, Ian’s family and friends? What if we’d all been wiped from the face of this earth on what should have been the happiest day of my life?

It was insane. Who would do such a thing?

I would forever associate my wedding day with tragedy…and that simply wasn’t right.

Where was Ian? Why didn’t he at least text me?

I alternated between pacing and sitting, between clutching someone’s hand and getting lost in my own thoughts. Stacy tried to talk to me, but I could see the strain on her face. She’d grown up in this world as I had, but now it wasn’t just her dad or her brothers out there, but her husband, too. We were in the same boat, but she’d seen even closer what could happen. And she had a baby now, a little boy who needed his father.

It wasn’t right. I wasn’t sure I could stand this.

“Who needs a drink?” Delaney suddenly asked. “There’s a mini bar over here that’s just begging to be broken into.”

“Good idea,” Seraphina said, joining her as they searched through the small refrigerator.

“There’s some champagne in here, Mia,” Anne called to me. “You should have it.”

The room fell deadly silent. I was standing at the windows again, the cloud of smoke gone now, but I knew where it’d been. Dancing. I should have been dancing.

“Let’s all have some.” I turned and looked at my mom. “There was a case in the back of the limo. Did they take it out?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ll get Sam to go get it,” Seraphina said, running to the door. She stuck her head out and less than ten minutes later, Sam, Daddy’s chauffeur-slash-bodyguard came in with the heavy box of champagne. Ten bottles. That should keep us busy.

The tension lessened as Momma and Seraphina handed out glasses. When Momma came to me and slid a glass into my hand, she whispered, “That’s my girl. You are so strong; you can survive anything.”

She kissed my cheek and went back to the couch to join the others. I watched her, not sure she was right. How strong was I really when all I wanted to do in this moment was duck into the bedroom and sob out my fears for Ian?

Instead, I joined her on the couch and smiled as I held up my glass.

“Here’s to the Rossi and the Callahan women. They may think they’re protecting us by shuttling us off to this tiny, two-star hotel. But they’re really just missing out on the forging of a group of woman who won’t take bullshit from anyone!”

Stacy actually laughed. “They should watch their backs.”

I winked at her, completely aware of the gratefulness in her smile.

“To the unification of two great families. May we be strengthened by our connection.”

“We already are,” Amelia told us, as she tipped her glass toward mine.

Ian

It was an absolute, fucking mess.

The bomb wasn’t big enough to take out the entire building, but it was pretty obvious that it had been set in the room where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding guests were hanging out in front of the church, waiting for the procession that would lead everyone to the reception hall. But a couple of people were already at the hall, setting out last minute decorations so that everything would be in place when we arrived. The caterer and her three assistants. The DJ. Carmine’s sister, Angela, and her two granddaughters. Pops’ personal assistant, Linda. And Caroline…Jack’s wife.

Caroline hadn’t been feeling well at the church. Jack told her to go home, but she didn’t want to miss the cake—she had something of a sweet tooth. And she was sentimental. She never missed the cake at any wedding she’d ever attended, and there’d been quite a few in the thirty years she was married to Jack. So Jack asked Linda to take her to the reception hall so she could sit in the air conditioning and wait. It should have been okay. Should have been the ideal solution. Instead, he’d sent her to her death.

He wasn’t taking it well.

“If I find out this was one of your people,” he said, shoving his finger into Carmine’s face, “you will fucking regret it!”

Pops pulled him back, dragging him across the floor of the church nave. We’d come back to the church when the police arrived, waiting there for details. We needed details before we could do anything.

The thing was, though, I was pretty sure I knew who’d done this.

“Kevin,” I hissed to Killian. “Has to be.”

Killian grabbed my arm and pulled me out onto the front lawn.

“Is there any way to find out?”

“I don’t know. It depends on what he used to set it off.”

Killian rested his hands on his hips and regarded me. “If it’s him, he’s here in the city. He wouldn’t have done this without taking a front row seat to the show.”

“But he might not stick around.”

“But he might.”

I ran my fingers over the top of my head, feeling the hard bristles of my short hair brushing against them. My thoughts were on Mia at the hotel, a safe house where she could be protected. Carmine’s man, Sam, was watching over them, but Killian sent Colin and Michael over there, too. We needed people we could trust watching them.

“He did this to start the street war all over again.”

“Yeah.”

“He thinks Carmine and Jack will turn on each other again.”

“We’ve got to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“We’ve got to find Kevin.” I crossed myself, my eyes flashing up to the cross above the church. “Forgive me, Mom,” I whispered, “but he’s mine when we do find him. I will kill him, but not until I torture the shit out of him for this one.”

Killian didn’t even argue with me.

Sean stuck his head out the doors. “They’re going to kill each other.”

We rushed back inside to find Carmine and Jack beating the shit out of each other against the altar. Pops was standing back, watching with his hands in the air. Kyle was sitting on one of the pews, his hand trying to stem the flow of blood from his busted nose. Killian rushed over and grabbed Jack in mid swing and I stepped in front of Carmine and pushed him back into the organ.

“Cut it out!”

“You get out of my way, boy,” Carmine growled.

“Do you really think this is what Mia would want? Do you really think we went through all of this today so that the two of you could kill each other anyway?”

“He killed my wife!”

I turned toward Jack even as Carmine tried to rush past me to get at him. I jerked to the left to block Carmine even as I managed to make eye contact with Jack.

“You know that’s not true. You know that this was calculated so that you two would turn on each other…so that you would reignite the street war all over again. You know this was a fucking set up!”

“But Caroline…”

Jack’s face crumbled as he said her name.

“I know. But she wasn’t supposed to be there. Only Carmine’s people, only his sister and the people he hired to cater this thing.” I crossed to Jack, took his shoulders in my grip. “Think about it. The person who did this knew who should have been there and who shouldn’t have been. He did this on purpose to make sure you and Carmine tore each other to shreds.” I smacked his face lightly. “Don’t let him win.”

Jack looked me in the eye, and then he suddenly fell apart, his knees going weak as he fell against me. He sobbed like a child, his arms around my shoulders, his face pressed to my shoulder.

“I loved her,” he moaned. “I know I was an asshole, but I loved her.”

“I know you did.”

Carmine came around me and lifted Jack into his arms as if he was as light as a feather, as if Carmine hadn’t just nearly died a month ago. He carried him to one of the pews and sat with him in his arms, letting him sob out his grief. No one was more surprised than me by the almost comical sight. It was something none of us would soon forget.

Jack was just beginning to get control of himself when the doors opened and two Boston detectives walked in. I recognized one of them immediately. Anthony Scarsorsi. He was an old running buddy of my father’s who’d gone in a different direction when they got older. He’d been hounding my father for years, promising to arrest him the first chance he got. But then there were these occasions when Scarsorsi would show up at just the right moment to cause my father to call off an important meeting or a shipment, moments that Sean was convinced meant Scarsorsi was trying to help Pops in a subtle, undetectable-by-other-cops sort of way.

“Thought we’d find you here.”

Scarsorsi walked up the aisle as if he owned the place, focused solely on Pops.

“Looks like you guys can’t even have a celebration without blowing something up. Ten people killed, three injured.”

“Three?”

“Employees working in the back of the building. Just minor injuries. They should recover.”

He stopped in front of Pops and eyed him for a long second. Then he glanced back at his partner.

“Why don’t you go find the priest and bring him back here so we can talk to everyone at once.”

“Don’t you think we should take them down to the station?”

“And have their lawyers up our asses all night? No thanks.” Scarsorsi waved his hand at the kid. “Go do what I told you.”

The moment the guy was gone—walking slow as molasses as he continued to contemplate what Scarsorsi said—Scarsorsi pulled something out of his jacket pocket and held it out to Pops.

“The device was under a table at the front of the room, probably the one designated as the family table. It was set off remotely with a cell phone. The bomb squad is pretty sure that it was a crude pipe bomb style, something that could be rigged up on the fly.”

I took the piece of metal out of his hand and turned it over.

“It’s the guts of one of those disposable cell phones. He must have used another phone to call this one. If we could get the number off of it…”

“Our guys are already one it. The moment we get it, I’ll call you.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Pops said, the weariness clear in his voice.

“Caroline was my friend, too.”

A silence fell over the church. The three of them—Pops, Scarsorsi, and Jack—grew up together. They would have known everything about each other back then.

“We’re searching buildings within a five-mile radius. No luck so far, but my guess is the guy is still nearby.”

“Kevin,” Pops said. “You’re looking for Kevin.”

A touch of sadness filled Scarsorsi’s eyes. “I know. I’ve already handed out that picture you gave me to the guys. If he’s anywhere near here, we’ll find him.”

“He’s nearby,” I said. “He wouldn’t want to miss this.”

Scarsorsi focused on me. “I’m sorry, son. This is a hell of day for something like this to happen.”

“Just…let us know if you spot him. I want to be the one.”

“Definitely.”

Scarsorsi turned, his shoulders stiffening as the doors opened in front of his partner and the priest.

“I think we have everything we need now. Let’s let these people grieve in peace.”

Scarsorsi’s partner was clearly confused, but he followed him out without question.

I had to get out of there. I had to find Kevin.

***

We drove around for hours, Killian, Kyle, and me. But there was really nothing we could do until we had a good idea where Kevin might be. We finally ended up at the hospital where Jack was arguing with the morgue about the autopsy they wanted to do on Caroline. Once again, I had to drag him away to keep him from hurting someone for something no one could truly control.

Carmine was the one who finally decided it was time to go find the ladies and tell them what we knew. He was worried about telling his family about the death of his sister, especially Mia. He was worried she’d feel responsible in some way.

Carlo and Carmine Jr. were down in the parking garage of the hotel when we arrived. They came to the car and silently offered their father some consolation. Then they turned to me and we went through the ritual of patting each other on the back, an act that showed that they accepted that I was part of the family, but it was filled with the awkwardness of a new relationship.

Pops went to the mortuary with Jack. Kyle was with them.

It was a long, silent elevator ride up to that hotel suite.

Sam was lounging against the door until he saw us. He immediately straightened, bowing his head slightly toward his boss.

“It’s been quiet, sir.”

Even as he said it, laughter floated through the door. Sam looked back over his shoulder, then cleared his throat.

“They had us bring up a case of champagne a couple of hours ago.”

“Good. Someone should be enjoying it,” Carmine announced.

Sam opened the door and we stepped through. The ladies were all still dressed in their formal attire. Only David was dressed in something a little more suited to sitting around a hotel room in his pajamas. Amelia spotted us first, color draining from her face when she realized that Kyle wasn’t with us. Cassidy, too, seemed a little less solid when she failed to see Pops’ face. But when Delaney spotted Sean beside me, she was immediately on her feet, hiding her face against his chest.

Everyone sort of divided up into couples, Carlo and Carmine Jr. each seeking out their wives, as Carmine walked over to his beautiful bride. My bride stood, a glass of champagne in her hand like this was a normal moment, like it was the normal progression of the day. Our eyes met, and she just studied my face for a moment. Then her eyes moved slowly down the length of me as if she was searching for wounds. I went to her—she didn’t come to me—and slipped the glass from her hand. Then I took her face in my hands and kissed her, reassuring her that I was real and I was unharmed.

She melted against me, tears briefly wetting both our cheeks. Then she pulled back and wiped away her tears.

“Tell us what’s going on, what you know.”

I could feel the room sort of freeze, everyone turning to focus on me.

All I could do was focus on her.

“We know that ten people were killed in the blast. The caterer and her assistants. The DJ.”

Mia nodded. “Who else?”

I brushed a rogue tear from her cheek. “My father’s personal assistant, Linda, was there. She’d brought Caroline McGuire over because she hadn’t been feeling well.”

Cassidy gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. Brianna, who’d been silently sitting beside her, snatched up her hand and held it tight enough to whiten her knuckles.

“And?”

“Angela, Louie, and Maria,” Carmine said for me.

Mia gasped this time, pressing her own hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened with horror, and she looked over at her father, nothing stopping the flow of tears this time. Her mother was crying silently, her face pressed to Carmine’s shoulder. Carlo, Carmine Jr., and their spouses were struck silent, too.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, brushing my fingers against Mia’s face.

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

But the thing was, it felt like it was. I should have known this would happen. I should have insisted on more security at both the church and the reception hall. We had men all around the church, men with guns and the knowledge to use them. We should have sent a few over to the hall, but I’d made the assumption that if anything was going to happen, it would be where Jack and Carmine were, where Pops and the rest of us were. I never imagined he would hit the empty hall this way.

I should have. It was the way he’d been doing everything since this began.

Mia moved into my arms and buried her face against my chest. After a moment’s hesitation, I wrapped my arms around her, feeling a little peace in the feel of her slight body, alive and well, in my arms.

“There’s nothing more we can do tonight,” Carmine announced. “The police are all over the wreckage. Funeral arrangements have begun. There’s nothing more we can do, so I suggest that each of you grab one of those room keys and try to get some rest.”