unForgivable (An inCapable World Novel Book 2) (8 page)

BOOK: unForgivable (An inCapable World Novel Book 2)
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He reaches over with his free hand and caresses my stomach and I close my eyes and enjoy his touch. Even with calloused hands, it’s delicate and soft, like he might break me.

“We should go and check on Mickey,” I say.

“Soon. I’m not certain I can move right now. My whole body feels like Jell-O.”

His cheeks are still flushed and he has a glaze over his eyes that comes with the euphoria of satisfying sex. I can only imagine my eyes look the exact same and it makes me smile. Then it hits me. I’m developing a little bit of a crush. And it scares the living shit out of me. All my life I wanted something to feel like this—to feel right. But the timing is all wrong. It couldn’t be worse. My life might be in danger and his, too, if I continue to let him help us.

He knows the risks and he doesn’t care, but I do. More than I’d like to.

And what if this is it? What if the reality of me doesn’t compete with the fantasy?

“Where are you?” he asks, leaning up and onto his elbow.

“I’m here. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About…I don’t know. I guess I was just thinking this was nice. But…”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” he says.


Damien
.”

“Look, I know things are complicated right now. We don’t need a label or to talk about our feelings.”

I tuck my hair behind my ears and bite my lip. Stay. Run away. Tell him how I feel. I don’t even know how to navigate myself with him because I haven’t felt this way toward anyone else. My feelings are raw but they’re new and they’re fragile. The trust I’ve managed to give him extends to my safety and Mickey’s. But trusting him with my heart? Well, that’s something else entirely and it’s too soon for me to know if I can give him that as well.

“Does anything scare you?” I ask, looking at him from my peripheral.

He laughs. “I’m not afraid of guns or bombs or men twice my size. I’ve seen death on a daily basis and some of it was horrific. I’ve no phobias. And I have dreams sometimes that jar me awake screaming. But I ain’t afraid of any of that. Now you?” He nods. “You frighten me.”

“Why?”

“I’ve wanted you since I had my first wet dream—which coincidentally might have involved you in a pair of Daisy Dukes.”

I grin at him.

“Now I’ve had you I’m not sure one night will be enough.”

“Your timing stinks.”

“It always has.”

“Jimmy wants Mickey dead and I can’t know if Jimmy’s anger extends to me, but if it does, that means being near me is going to put you in whole lot of trouble.”

“I suspect Jimmy wants Mickey out of the picture because he’s afraid of what he’ll do. I’ve heard rumors about Mickey and he’s not someone you want to make an enemy of. But you? I don’t know if anyone could see you as a threat.”

“Maybe I could talk to him and get him to see reason,” I say.

“I’m not sure that’ll change anything. Mickey’s a liability. With these people, a potential threat is enough to act upon, whether he’s injured or not.”

“So there are only two ways this plays out,” I say. “Mickey gets better and takes his revenge and we both end up dead one way or another…or Mickey leaves and I go with him.”

“You’d go with him?” Damien asks with a raised brow.

“How could I let him go alone?”

“Hmm.”

“And this…” I wave back and forth between us. “Whatever this is?” I sigh.

“Bad timing?” he says, quoting me.

“Yeah.” I lean over and peck him on the cheek and when I pull away, his hands grip my face. He pulls me back in for a long, lingering kiss. His tongue dances with mine and my eyes roll back as I melt into him. Oh, God. Why does he have to make me feel like this? Why does he have to be so understanding? And why is he making me want him now, when everything is falling apart?

Chapter Eight

D
amien holds
out his hand as I crawl back in through the window. Taking it, I hop over the sill, but lose my footing and stumble. His arms encircle my waist, saving me from falling on my face. He leans in, close to me, and gives me an intense look that reminds me how amazing it felt to have him touch me and how amazing it would be to let him have me again.

“I’ll help you figure this out,” he says. His look…oh God…that look…there it is again. And the sincerity in it makes it hard for me to doubt him. But doubting him isn’t the problem right now. Figuring out how to unfuck my life and Mickey’s is.

I nod in agreement, unable to do anything else, because my only other option is to push him down and wrap my legs around him again.

The sound of a throat clearing startles me.

I almost jump out of my skin. Damien and I turn our heads in unison to spy Carrie at the bedroom door. She raises her eyebrows at us while folding her arms across her chest and flashing me a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t say a word,” I say quietly.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure I know what
to
say.”

“I really need to get a better lock,” Damien says with a groan.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I say to Carrie as I brush by her. She follows me down the hall and into Mickey’s room. After I take a seat on the bed beside him, I touch his forehead to see if he’s warm. He is, but not terribly so. It concerns me to find him still slick with sweat.

“So…” Carrie begins.

I give her a look of warning.

“All right. I won’t ask.”

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask her. “How in the world could you think it was a good idea to bring me here of all places? To Jimmy’s stepson’s place?”

“I’d say it worked out well, wouldn’t you?”

“That’s not the point. What if he’d turned us in?”

She takes a seat on the chair beside the bed. “I didn’t have a lot of choices, you know? And I trust him. From the looks of it, you seem to trust him too.” She waggles her eyebrows at me, but I ignore her probing. Even though she’s my best friend, and has been since I was nineteen, I don’t kiss and tell, especially when it comes to dating relatives. That’s just all kinds of uncomfortable.

“There’s something about him,” I begin. “Something…
good
? Does that make sense?”

“Well, he did spend six years as a corpsman. A guy devoted to helping others, in the worst of circumstances, can’t be all that bad. And if we’re being honest, the guys you date are absolute pricks.”

I ignore the dig. “I remember him. Not really well, but I remember him. And I remember thinking—even back then—that when he smiled he really meant it. I wanted to smile like that one day.”

“I know what you mean. He made me smile like I meant it, too.”

“You were close?” I ask because I honestly have no idea. Carrie’s a few years younger than me and I never started hanging around with her until after I graduated. We met at party, introduced by one of the many guys I used to date.

“He was good to me,” Carrie says. “He used to take me out on dates with him.”

“What? Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. He liked having me around—or so he said—which given my mother and father meant a lot. In the summers, he’d take me to the beach with him and his friends. No one else did that for me as a kid. My mother was too busy working and my dad…well, he was too busy with his other family.”

“I’m glad you had that, Care.”

She nods. “It was nice. It ruined me when he left. I didn’t talk to him for a long time, but now I get why he left. If Jimmy had got his hands on him he’d probably be a completely different person right now.”

I turn to face her while keeping a hand on Mickey’s arm. Absentmindedly, I stroke his freckled skin, hoping to give him comfort, or just to reassure him that I’m here for him and never leaving.

What she says about Damien is true. Jimmy wouldn’t have let him stray outside of the family business. He’d have dragged him in no matter how much he protested and Jimmy would have ruined him—taken all of the goodness out of him.

“Did you know Mona helped him leave?”

She tips her head to the side. “No, I didn’t.”

“She gave him the money he needed to leave town.”

“Huh. Well, that’s interesting.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask.

“When he came back to town I saw him out with Mona and it seemed weird to me. I didn’t ask him about it. It wasn’t my business, but I just couldn’t understand why they’d be out together. I didn’t even know they knew each other—more than casual acquaintances.”

“She helped him find this apartment.”

“Seriously?”

I nod. “Apparently.”

“Huh.” She chews on that nugget of information for a moment. “She gives him money and then six years later he comes back and they’re the best of friends?”

“I don’t know about the best of friends, but…they were close. Pen pals, even.” I sigh. “How is that possible? There was a lot I didn’t know about her, but why keep something like that from me?”

“Wait. What? Mona had a fucking pen pal?”

“I know, right? How out of character is that?”

Beth shakes her head as she drums her fingers on the wooden arm of the chair. “Well, I guess it makes sense that Mona kept that to herself. Having a pen pal doesn’t exactly give you street cred, if you know what I mean.”

“But hiding it from
me
? What else did she hide from me? It makes me think I didn’t know her at all.”

Mickey moans and his eyes flutter. I give him my undivided attention, holding his hand in mine and leaning in, eager to hear him say something…anything.

“Mickey? Can you hear me?”

“Ugh…” he moans. “I feel like I’ve been shot.”

I find it hard to hold in my excitement. He’s finally awake! I feel as if my heart has leapt from my stomach to find its home back in my chest. Chuckling, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze until he moans again.

“Sorry,” I say. “Did I hurt you?”

“How long have I been out?”

“Not too long. A day.”

He tries to sit up but I push him back down. “No, not yet.”

Mickey’s face tightens and he stills at the sound of a drill bit fighting its way into a wall somewhere. The apartment shakes lightly, the only picture on the wall tipping to the left. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” I say, looking over to Carrie.

She rolls her eyes and leaves the room. “I’ll look into it.”

“You have no idea how worried I was,” I say, heaving in a deep breath. “I thought you were…”

“Going to die?”

Silently, I nod.

He shakes his head, his eyes full of rage. “Kid, they need to be taken care of. You understand, right?”

“There’s lots of time for that and I’ll tie you to the bed if you try to move before you’re ready.”

“You and me kid. We’re going to kill every last one of them.”

I bite my lip, letting his words sink in. I want them dead, too, but pulling the trigger? I’m not sure I have that in me.

“Promise me we’ll do that. Every last one. And if I don’t pull through…”

“Mickey, don’t talk like that.”

“Promise me!” he says, his voice straining. “There is nothing more important than respect. This is how we fix what Mona did. You got me?”

I lower my head and avoid his eyes. “I promise, Mickey.” I want revenge as much as he does, but Damien’s words spring to my head. I’ve never seriously hurt anyone before and hadn’t thought about it until recently. Do I really have what it takes to take a life? I don’t know. No matter how much I want to see Jimmy and his men pay. And it hits me hard that he’s focused on fixing what Mona broke and not actually caring that she’s gone and never coming back. Can he really be this cold?

“But first…rest, okay?”

“Not yet…we need to talk.”

I swallow hard. I’ve been waiting for this conversation since he the cops told me Mona was dead. Damien’s filled in some blanks, but now I have a chance to find out everything. The whole story. I settle into my chair and I give him my full attention.


S
o Jimmy had
Declan and Mona called the cops to save him?” I say, summarizing what Mickey’s told me.

Mickey scowls at me, his face a brilliant shade of crimson. “Jimmy wanted to punish Declan because he thought Declan went after Sam for attacking Evie. Sam and Jimmy had some deal…not sure what, but I’m pretty sure it was drug-related and he told Declan that Sam was off limits.”

“So Declan didn’t listen and he killed Sam?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, Mona did.”

I scratch at my head. This woman who I love more than anyone has killed at least two people—that I know of. I’m not even sure how to feel about that. The only thing—for me—that makes it less deplorable is knowing in my heart that she did it to protect someone else. Evie? Declan? Maybe both. And Sam was a bad person who not only hurt Evie but came to the pub just to torment her. What would he have done to her if he got his hands on her again?

“Okay...so why did Jimmy have Declan?” I ask.

“Because he thought Declan didn’t listen.”

“And then Mona got in bed with the cops to save Declan?” I pause and consider this. “So Mona wasn’t a rat. Not really.” Here I thought she’d been working with the cops for a while rather than once, as a last ditch effort to save a life.

“Yes, she fucking was. It doesn’t matter
why
she did it. Bilskis don’t rat!”

“Did you try to talk her out of it?”

He narrows his eyes. “She called me before she went in. Said good-bye. I think she knew how it would end. I raced over there to try to stop her, but by then the cops were already raiding the place and she was dead.”

“Did you know she killed Uncle Ralph?”

He stares at me and doesn’t offer an answer. Okay, then. I guess that’s a yes.

He tries to adjust his position. His muscles tense and his face tightens, and I quickly reach out to help move him over and get comfortable again. “Do you need more meds?” I ask.

“Nah, they fucking knock me out. And I like pain. It motivates me.”

I nod, following along, but I’m confident that’s not the main reason why Declan would have gone after Sam. He loves Evie. Sure, hurting him was revenge, but it was also a way to keep her safe. Mickey might not see that because love doesn’t come easy for him, but I can.

“I still can’t believe she’d go to the cops,” I say softly.

“It was that bitch, Evie. From what I heard, she’d gone to them before. She’s in protective custody right now and I swear if I see her again, I’ll put a fucking bullet in her head, too.”

“Don’t say that, Mick.”

“I’m speaking the truth, kid. Wasn’t for her none of this would have happened. Declan would be safe and so would Mona. Behind every ruined man sits a smiling woman.”

“No, if it wasn’t for me…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” He doesn’t need to know about how my actions created a domino effect that landed us in our current predicament. And explaining won’t help. He’ll still blame Evie because he doesn’t like her. He doesn’t like many people—especially women. I don’t think he’s ever been in love. He’s always thought women were the root of all evil and yet he’s allowed himself to care for Mona and me and perhaps no one else. I want to yell at him for it, but then…I love him. Unconditionally. The way family’s supposed to.

He looks around the room and grips my hand. “Now, do you mind telling me where the fuck we are?”

“Um…well…I…”

“Spit it out, will ya?”

“Wow, you’re certainly as cranky as ever.”

“What can I say? Getting shot doesn’t put me in the brightest mood.”

“We’re at Carrie’s cousin’s place. He’s a medic.”

“A stranger?”

“No, he’s not a stranger. I trust him.”

He looks at me through narrowed eyes. “I taught you better than that.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Mickey. He saved your life. Now get some sleep.”

“Not until I meet my savior. Get him the fuck in here.”

When I find Damien, he’s crouched by the door, a drill in one hand and a long screw in the other. He’s installed a deadbolt at the top of the door and now it appears he’s adding one to the bottom. I’d ask if this is necessary but then, I know it is, especially after his mother picked her way in and Carrie… How the hell did Carrie get in?

“Mickey wants to see you,” I say to Damien.

He turns to glance at me and then drills the final screw into the bottom deadbolt. Carrie is leaned against the wall, rolling her eyes. “How will I get in now?” she says, smiling.

“You knock on the door like a normal person,” I say.

“I only picked the lock because Damien didn’t answer when I knocked. I thought something was wrong.”

“Does everyone know how to pick a lock except me?” I ask.

They both shrug their shoulders. “I learned when I was eight,” Damien says.

“Ten,” Carrie adds.

“Fantastic.” Apparently, I missed some lessons in criminality from my aunt and uncle.

“Does Mickey need more pain medication?” Damien asks as he drops the drill onto the kitchen island.

“No. He wants to talk to you.”

“Why do I get the feeling that’s not a good thing?” He puts his hand on his hips and his expression seems guarded.

“Well,” I whisper. “How about if we don’t tell him who you’re related to, just yet.”

Carrie smiles at me. “Look who’s keeping secrets now.”

I glare at her. Sarcasm is the last thing I need right now.

“Do I need a bodyguard?” Damien touches his hand to my waist when he reaches me.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Just be honest.”

“Except for talking about my family?”

“Except that,” I agree.

When he goes into Mickey’s room, I hear Mickey tell him to shut the door. I bite my lip as Carrie’s and my eyes lock. Maybe him going in alone isn’t such a good idea.

“It’s not like he has a gun or anything,” she says. “Right?”

“No, of course not,” I say, but then I really think about that for a minute to make sure it’s true.

Carrie sits with me while I wait for Mickey to talk to Damien. I know she’s tired from working earlier and I should tell her to get some sleep, but I can’t bring myself to say good-bye. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Damien to slip and tell Mickey who he is and for Mickey to attempt to kill him. It’s a crazy thought, but then, my Uncle Mickey doesn’t think like a normal person.

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