Escaping: A Mafia Romance (The O'Keefe Family Collection #2) Read online

  Escaping

  Part Two in

  The O’Keefe Family Collection

  Tuesday Embers

  Copyright © 2016 Mary E. Twomey

  Cover Art by Cormar Covers

  All rights reserved.

  First Edition: July 2016

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For information:

  http://www.tuesdayembers.com

  Dedication

  To my amazing brothers, Bruce and Brian.

  Thank you for not being total tools.

  One.

  Once Upon a Better Time

  Fallyn knelt on the carpet in her family’s enemy’s foyer, recounting all the ways things had gotten out of hand, and her culpability in the mess. She had opened a bakery with the intent of doing something outside the suffocating (but loving) wings of her seven older brothers. The step seemed harmless, but looking back, Fallyn could see the domino effect this one act of declaring her independence had.

  Sweet Somethings had been her dream. She could’ve set up shop in her family’s expansive territory in the west end and avoided a litany of friction, but she took a chance and pushed to be able to open up in Fairfield’s neutral territory – a middle ground that both her family and the D’Amatos, their long-fought enemies, could roam freely in if they conducted no business there. The bakery didn’t fall under the category of “business” because it didn’t involve loan sharking (her family’s specialty) or cocaine (the D’Amato business). On the surface it was a harmless little muffin shop, but Fallyn had placed her shop there strategically. It forced the two sides to get together and discuss the possibility of moving on from the feud. She pushed that fragile truce into brokering a “harmless” deal with Vince, the head of the D’Amato family, by offering to sell desserts from his restaurant chains in her bakery in exchange for getting on his dessert menu.

  It had all seemed so small, just baby steps that were innocent on their own. But Fallyn had a plan, and she enacted each step with the intention of bringing the two families together as they had been when she was a child. With the patriarchs either dead or irreparably aged, the legacies were passed onto Vince and her eldest brother, Killian. The truce started out small, but Fallyn pushed them to start doing business together.

  Attraction was the only thing she hadn’t accounted for. Vince was so much older – twelve years – and she had never been on his radar. Of course, with seven older brothers, she was forced into celibacy and loneliness because no one would ever be good enough for the only girl, the baby of the family who softened the brutes when they needed it most.

  Fallyn’s first kiss with Vince utterly demolished her plan for peace between the two warring sides. Fallyn fell deeper in love with the head of the D’Amato family, and he returned her affections with yet more commitment than she could’ve expected. She knew that her brothers would sooner return to war than let her be happy with the man who’d spat on her mother’s grave. The secret stayed tucked safely away until Vince came clean with his violent family. The D’Amatos allowed the union only because Vince was the head of the family, and they had little say without being in danger of blatant insurrection.

  Fallyn didn’t have the same pull with her brothers. When she suggested the O’Keefe family help Vince clean out the drug dealers from his territory, it was a bold move, but one she gambled would solidify the two families as allies once again. It would improve commerce, cut down criminal behavior and help both sides across the board.

  She hadn’t meant to kiss Vince in his own house with her brother nearby. She hadn’t meant to find him so attractive. She hadn’t meant for a lot of things to happen, but when Carrigan saw his enemy kiss his only sister, he beat on Vince until Fallyn begged reason into his thick skull that only saw “kill, kill, kill” when a man went for the sister he adored.

  Vince had been banged up from going out and murdering addicts and dealers all night during the middle of the night raid to clean up his end of the city. No one would look too much into it if he got hit by an errant bullet. They wouldn’t even check to see whose gun it came from.

  These were the horrors that plagued Fallyn as Carrigan marched out of the house with Vince. Carrigan vowed to keep their clandestine relationship a secret, but Fallyn dreaded his deadly promise that he’d “take care of Vince.”

  Fallyn cried into the phone when Declan called her to check in that they’d cleared another dealer’s house on the map, and to ask for the location of the next one. He was tired, but revived when he heard the panic in Fallyn’s sobs. “What happened? Who got hit? We’re coming to you!”

  Fallyn sniveled over the map, sucking in barely enough air to keep her brain clear. “No one’s hit. I’m just scared for you all. Be careful, Declan.”

  Declan softened. “Oh, kid. We’re alright. Us O’Keefes are too tough to get roughed up too bad. Hang in there. If you want, I’ll come over and sleep on your couch when we get home so you know you’re safe.”

  Fallyn tried not to sob over the phone, but it was hopeless. “Okay. Thanks. Just stay safe.” She gave him the address of the next location to pick off. The plan was to hit as many dealers’ houses and drug runners as possible in one night so the cops didn’t slow down the massacre with that whole justice and fair trial thing. Vince wanted his streets cleaned up, and if there’s one thing a family with eight kids does well, it’s knock things out as a team in rapid-fire. The bloody mission was a perfect match for the O’Keefes.

  Fallyn quieted her gulps and hiccups to listen to the police com for signs that the silencers weren’t effective in hushing the horrors. She hoped the cops would remain unaware of their dark deeds until daybreak, when the families would be far away from the mess and culpability. The thick red curtains of the expansive D’Amato family colonial were drawn shut, but she still felt scandalously exposed to the night.

  Killian called next, checking in with the same fear Declan had when the eldest O’Keefe heard the sound of the upset in Fallyn’s voice. “No, no. Everyone’s good except Vince. He’s banged up real bad, Kill. He went back out there, but he’s limping and bleeding all over the place. It’ll be a mess if he dies in this! The D’Amatos won’t let it go if Vince dies on Carrigan and Danny’s watch.”

  Killian paused to mull this over. “We’ll team up with them, then. Send us to their location. I’ll send Vince back your way if he’s really that injured. Though, I’m sure you’re overreacting. Carrigan would send him home if he was really that hurt.”

  “Please just hurry,” she begged before hanging up. She texted Killian their location so her eldest brother didn’t hear her heart break over the phone, figure it all out and snap Vince’s neck. Fallyn waited by the police com, blowing her nose and trying to get all of her emotion out while she was alone, so her brothers wouldn’t read too much into her meltdown.

  Carrigan knows now. Her best friend in the world found out about her relationship, and tried to end it the only way he knew how – with violence. Even if Vince did survive the night, she didn’t have high hopes that her relationship with her favorite brother would make it through the ordeal intact.

  She waited by the phone and fed them new addresses until the secret knock sounded at th
e door. Fallyn ran to the entrance and ripped open the front door, catching Vince as he stumbled inside after Carrigan released his collar. “Vince! Oh, you’re a mess!” She turned on her brother, still supporting Vince’s weight. “Carrigan!”

  Carrigan was unapologetic and offered no explanations. “He can sit the rest of the night out. I’ve got to get back.” With that, Carrigan slammed the front door on his way out.

  Now that there were no other men to save face in front of, Vince let out an agonized moan as Fallyn led him into the living room and lowered him to the couch. Fallyn worked his shirt over his head, gasping at the battered state of his torso. He’d gone into the night with a broken rib and a few gashes that had been stitched up, but this was far worse. His whole torso was rapidly turning black and blue. It looked like each breath he drew cost him too great an effort. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Oh, Vince. Tell me how to help you.”

  “Water,” Vince croaked.

  Fallyn scurried to the kitchen and filled a glass, bringing a wet rag and the first aid kit with her. She pressed the glass to his bleeding lip and stroked his hair as he gulped down a few sips just to wash the taste of blood out of his mouth. She sat down on the coffee table before him, her fingers fluttering over his face to get a good look at it. “Honey,” she cooed, lightly touching the wet rag to his cheek to clean off a thick smear of blood. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Crackheads,” Vince explained, melting into her touch. She was soft, and his world had been hard for so long. She was delicate, and it was a welcome relief to force himself to be gentle instead of pushing himself to break more things.

  Fallyn narrowed her eyes at him though her tears. “I know you’re lying. I know Carrigan worked you over. Don’t bother protecting him.”

  “I don’t want you fighting with your brother about this. He knows about us and he’s backing off. I let him get in a few punches so he’d feel better about it all. If he knows he’s warned me, he’s more likely to leave us be.” He hissed when the rag brushed over his chin, which was already swelling with a wide bruise. “He’s gotta let me know that he can come for me at any time if I’m not good to you. It’s a guy thing, and I totally get it.”

  The warm rag was gentle as it swept the blood off his lips. Fallyn was filled with mourning as she tended to his hands, cleaning with water and antiseptic as she pressed her lips to each of his fingers. “I’m so sorry I’m the one you fell in love with. It’d be nowhere near this complicated with anyone else.”

  “It’s nowhere near as worth it with anyone else. I love you, Fally.” He stiffened when the police chatter on the com became coherent. “Did you catch that?”

  Fallyn stilled, her blood running cold when she heard the voice announce a disturbance on the west side, calling a patrol car to go check it out. She dove for her phone and called Killian. “Get out of there!” she warned. “The cops are on their way. Get everyone and get back here. I’ll get Vince in the car.” She didn’t wait for Killian’s response, but called the other point people in the four groups, beckoning them home.

  She called Carrigan, but the call went to voicemail. She knew he couldn’t have made it back to his team, which put him as a lone ranger in the middle of an imploding city. She called him again, then texted him.

  Fallyn helped Vince into the passenger’s seat of Killian’s car, laying the seat back and covering him with a knitted blanket from the couch. She called Carrigan again; she knew he was dodging her calls because he didn’t want to answer for the beating he’d given Vince. The fallout would be dire if Officer Carrigan was caught carrying out his own brand of street justice.

  When the rest of the party marched inside, Fallyn counted the heads over and over, sending them each to the garage and wringing her hands, hoping to find Carrigan. She called him three more times, all with no result.

  “Fallyn, get in the car.” When Killian called Carrigan and didn’t get through, her fear went to panic that he wasn’t ignoring her at all, but that he was hurt, or worse.

  Fallyn poked her head into the garage. “Killian said to move on to the safe house. We’ll wait for Carrigan and catch up.”

  Fear pulled at Vince’s features. “No! Get in the car, Fallyn. You’re coming with us.”

  Fallyn tried to give Vince a serene look that communicated total calm and control. “I’m right behind you guys.”

  Vince opened his mouth to protest, but Angelo obeyed, driving the first car out, with the second following behind.

  Two.

  Fallyn with a Gun

  Killian stomped toward his baby sister. “What are you doing? I told you to get in the car!”

  She ignored Killian, grabbed her gun from her purse and a spare silencer, and tore out of the house. She headed out on the direct route to the address she’d sent Carrigan to, not caring if anyone saw her.

  Killian was hot on her heels, grabbing her from behind to stop her mad dash. “No, Fally! If the cops are coming this way, you can’t run. You’ll draw attention to yourself and they’ll connect you to the murders.” His arm wrapped around her shoulder as he slipped his gun into his belt. “Slower. If Carrigan’s hurt, we don’t want to miss him.”

  Killian’s eyes were sharp, zeroing in on every rustling bush. He kept his head down to avoid being recognized if anyone happened to peek out their windows at four in the morning. Not that they would report any mischief. The neighbors had grown so afraid to step outside their own property that they turned a blind eye to nearly everything that happened after the sun set.

  Fallyn kept her gun at her side between her and her brother. “This way,” she whispered, turning down the street she’d sent Carrigan to. “He should be over there.” She pointed to a rundown house that had been a cheery white once upon a better time. “Did you hit the house yet?”

  “No. We were about to go in when you called us home. We can hit it another day. Right now we just need to focus on getting Carrigan and busting out of here before anyone notices us.”

  Fallyn’s gaze fell on movement around the outside of the house they were walking toward. The torn and missing paneling made it easy to spot a person sneaking by. “There!” she whispered.

  “I see him.” Killian picked up their pace, keeping his head down and holding his sister tight to his side. “We grab him and run, okay?”

  “Okay, I—” Fallyn stopped short, watching with dread as Carrigan entered the house through the torn out screen of the backdoor by himself. “He thinks you guys are inside! Go!” She broke into as silent a run as she could with Killian, crunching spiny weeds and bramble underfoot as she barreled through the backdoor with her brother.

  Killian barked at her to stay outside, but Fallyn stopped listening. All she saw were the targets that would tear down her brothers if she didn’t act fast. The pudgy woman lunged at Killian from her place on the duct taped couch. She had powder under her nose and stringy hair that was so thin and greasy, it barely moved when she took a bullet from Fallyn, dying quickly on the carpet.

  “I had her,” Killian said in lieu of gratitude.

  “Good for you.” Fallyn was in no mood to play backup. The job was to clean out the dealers’ houses, not wait out fist fights. As much as her brothers were overprotective of her, she was just as vicious. The moral debate left her completely when anyone tried to attack her brothers.

  Carrigan turned the corner in the living room that smelled of cat pee and pot soaked deep into the brown carpet, startled to find his siblings. “Where did everyone go?” he demanded. His gun was aimed downward, and clutched in two hands, ever at the ready.

  “Cops!” Killian whispered. “Let’s clean out this house and run. Fallyn, wait outside!”

  Fallyn didn’t respond to her brother, but rather aimed her gun at the footsteps she heard coming down the hallway that Carrigan hadn’t completely investigated yet. “Hit the floor!” she ordered.

  “Hey! What’re you doing in my house?” said the man, revealing a mouth with several teeth either rotted
out or missing completely.

  Carrigan ducked with wide eyes three seconds before Fallyn’s gun went off. Two bullets to the face ended the criminal’s life in a breath.

  Fallyn didn’t stop to listen to the shredding sound her conscience made inside her chest. She was only business, and wanted the job done quickly. “I’ll get the rooms to the right. Kill, you take the upstairs. Carri, hit the basement.” She didn’t wait for them to obey; she simply moved past her dumbfounded brothers, stepped over the dead homeowner and walked silently to the first bedroom. She didn’t have it in her to feel relieved that it was empty. Her nerves had hit their peak, making her hyper focused.

  When she slowly pushed open the door to the second bedroom, she found a passed out woman with dried blood under her nose and several tattoos on her butt. She was spread out nude across the filthy mattress on the floor, with two stark naked men on either side of her. The men looked like they’d seen weeks of bathing in beer and cigarettes instead of the standard soap and water. A line of coke was on a mirror on the carpet next to a small mountain of beer cans strewn about on the floor. Fallyn judged by the stripper heels with a fistful of cash stuffed in the toe and lycra mini outfit discarded on the carpet that the woman was a prostitute. Fallyn took a deep breath, fired off three shots that felt like cheating since the victims were asleep, and pocketed the cash so it looked like a robbery. Also, she had no idea how long they would stay at the safe house, and wanted to make sure they didn’t leave a credit card trail on the way.

  Fallyn cleared the bathroom and met Carrigan in the kitchen. Their guns were pointed downward, but they were ready to aim and shoot at a moment’s notice. They both exhaled when Killian moved soundlessly down the steps from the second floor. Carrigan and Killian closed in around Fallyn when they stepped out into the open air. The sound of a patrol car a few streets over made them pick up their pace to a slow trot, but they stuck to the darkness. They were careful to avoid any house with their porch lights on, and moved between homes that were in various stages of disrepair.