Page 24 of The Mobster’s Daughter (Massachusetts Mafia #2)

Caitlin

F redo parked the Toyota, shut it off, and then climbed out. He walked around the car, opened her door, and pointed his gu n at her.

“Get out, ” he said.

She hauled herself out of the compact car and checked her surroundings.

The only light came from the car’s headlights, which barely permeated the inky black darkness.

They were parked at the end of a dirt road, in front of a picnic area with three tables and two trash cans.

Beyond that, she couldn’t see anything but trees.

The chill in the air bit into her skin and the white puffs from her breath floated away with it.

It howled loudly, whipping through the branches and through her thin leather jacket, sending shivers down her spine.

Fredo shoved the gun into her back. “Walk,” h e ordered.

Caitlin did as he asked, leaves crunching under her feet as they walked away from the picnic area, walking deeper into the forest. Her heart pounded as she stumbled through the underbrush.

Fredo was right behind her, wheezing, his hot breath on her neck.

If he killed her and left her body out here, no one would ever find her.

She swallowed the panic rising in her chest.

He grabbed her shoulder, yanking her to a stop. They were in a small clearing—a ten by ten space with no trees or bushes, like someone mowed down all the foliage. As she turned to face him, she saw two tiny pinpricks of light . The car.

“This isn’t personal,” Fredo said. “Just business.”

Caitlin snorted. “I’m not involved in my father’s business, so for me, this is personal.”

He chuckled. “If you didn’t want to be involved, you shouldn’t have let Bobby Corelli stick his dick in you. I guess you’re getting what’s comin g to you.”

Adrenaline mixed with pure rage surged through her.

This bastard had no right to treat her like she was some kind of whore.

She took a step back, intent on charging him, but in a moment of clarity, she stopped, took a deep breath, and let her knees buckle, feigning weakness and fear. She fell to the ground with a loud cry.

Surprised, Fredo lowered the gun and stepped closer, reaching for her. This was her chance. She dug her hands into the dirt, grabbed a handful, and threw it in Fredo’s face, blinding him. He cursed and stumbled back, wiping at his eyes. She scrambled to her feet.

There was no time to waste if she wanted to live. She rushed at Fredo, who was still rubbing his eyes, and rammed her shoulder into his side, catching him off balance. They both crashed to the ground, Caitlin on top. She clawed at his face as he tried to push her away.

Cursing and thrashing, Fredo rolled them over, pinning her beneath him.

He raised the gun, but she grabbed his wrist with both hands and twisted it with all her strength, shoving the gun up and away.

It went off, the shot deafening in the deathly quiet night, but the bullet missed her, instead hitting a ne arby tree.

Caitlin bucked her hips, causing him to topple over. She got on her hands and knees and attempted to crawl away. Suddenly, she felt something beneath her, something cold, thick, and hard. A rock. Fueled by desperation, her fingers closed around the stone.

As she turned back to throw it at him, Fredo grabbed her leg and dragged her toward him. She kicked her foot, but his grip was too tight. He crawled over her, trying to regain control. She screamed and swung the rock as hard as she could, smashing it into the side of his head.

The blow stunned him, but Caitlin didn’t hesitate. Instead, she hit him again, harder this time. He collapsed, and the gun slipped out of his hand.

Breathing hard, she kicked herself away from him and picked up the gun. Blood covered her right hand, and the copper scent of it fille d the air.

“You bitch,” Fredo groaned. He clutched his head as he struggled to sit up.

Caitlin knew she couldn’t leave him alive.

He’d come after her and so would his boss.

She raised the gun, holding it with both hands, and aimed it at Fredo’s chest. She took a deep breath and, like Grady taught her, exhaled as she pulled the trigger, her hands steady as the shot echoed off the trees.

Fredo collapsed, and the scent of blood intensified.

A wave of nausea washed over her. Caitlin dropped the gun, stumbled a few feet away, and vomited next to a tree.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood up.

With no time to lose, she returned to Fredo’s body to search him, finding the car keys, a cell phone, and a wad of cash.

She shoved them in her pockets and picked u p the gun.

She had to go. Now. It wouldn’t be long before Lev wondered why Fredo hadn’t returned, and Joey or Gino came looking for them. Caitlin glanced one last time at Fredo’s body, then she turned and ran through the forest, the gun clutched tightly in her hand.

By the time she reached the car, Caitlin’s stomach churned like an earthquake rumbling beneath the ground, leaving her off balance and uneasy.

While she wanted to lie down and never get up, she knew she couldn’t, though she sat in the dirt next to the car.

She dropped the gun, rested her head against the driver’s side door, and sucked in a giant lungful of air.

Caitlin exhaled, then repeated the process until she no longer felt nauseous.

Caitlin had a choice: She could go home to her father, let him take care of everything, hide in the O’Reilly family mansion, and wait for him to fix her problems. It was what he would have wanted her to do.

Or she could go to New York.

If she went to New York, she could talk to Aldo Moretti and tell him what Lev Chertok had done, as well as the lengths the Russian had gone to in order to force a war between Moretti’s family and her father’s. He would believe her. H e had to.

It was her life on the line. Hers. She couldn’t trust anyone to save her anymore, not after everything that had happened. Not her father, not Finn or Declan. She was on her own. Which was fine, because dammit, she was an O’Reilly. It was time for her to act like one.

Decision made, Caitlin stood up, opened the door, and got in.

She adjusted the seat, turned on the radio to drown out the thoughts in her head, and checked the gas gauge.

Once she turned the car around, she drove back the way they’d come.

With any luck, she’d be in New York in less than four hours.

Hopefully, this would be over soon, and everything would be normal.

She snorted; her life would never be normal again.

No one could go back after something like this, not even a mobster’s daughter.

She didn’t want to think about that right now, though.

Caitlin needed to get through the next twenty-four hours and fix this shit with Moretti before she worried about fixing her life.

Caitlin stopped for gas outside Hartford, Connecticut, using the cash she’d taken from Fredo to pay.

While the tank filled, she tried to open Fredo’s phone.

Unfortunately, it needed a password or face ID.

She should have opened it before she took off, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly after she s hot Fredo.

“After I killed him,” she mumbled under h er breath.

“I’m sorry, dear, what did you say?” a grandmotherly woman filling her truck at the pump opposite h ers asked.

Caitlin smiled. “N-nothing,” she said.

The woman gave her an odd look, quickly finished getting her gas, and left.

As she turned to watch her go, Caitlin glimpsed her reflection in the car window.

No wonder the woman left in a hurry. Caitlin’s face and clothes were streaked with dirt.

Her hair was a tangled mess, and she looked ha lf-crazed.

She considered going inside to clean up, but she didn’t want to raise suspicions if anyone saw her. She’d get a motel room in New York so she could clean up before she sa w Moretti.

Back on the road, Caitlin’s mind drifted to Grady.

The only man she trusted. It had been colossally stupid of her to walk away from him.

He protected her, put his life on the line for her, and she’d given him the middle finger by taking off.

If there were anyone she wished were with her right now, it was Grady, and not because he could protect her.

Her infatuation with him had turne d to love.

Grady doesn’t believ e in love.

The thought sent a pang of regret rolling through her. As much as she longed for a relationship with Grady, it wouldn’t happen, for a multitude of reasons, none of which she wanted to th ink about.

When this was over, she planned to go far away from Boston—maybe California or the mountains of Montana. It was probably the only way she would get over Grady. Distance. Because there was no way in hell her father would allow her and Grady to have a rel ationship.

Caitlin found a place to stay in New Jersey, the West View Motel in North Bergen.

It was cheap and relatively clean, certainly better than sleeping in the car, which she’d considered.

After she checked in, she went to a nearby thrift store and bought clothes.

Back at the motel, she showered, standing under the hot water until it ran cold.

When she was done, she dressed in ugly pink-and-green sweatpants and a large gray s weatshirt.

She had to figure out how to get in touch with Moretti. It wasn’t like the mobster was listed in the phone book under “mafia families” or something. She picked up the phone and dialed her sister’s number fr om memory.

“H-hello?”

“Liv, is that you?” Cait lin asked.

“Jesus Christ, Caitlin? Where the hell are you? Finn said somebody gra bbed you—”

“Liv, will you listen to me? I can’t explain where I am or how I got here. I need to talk to Declan.” When her sister yelled, Caitlin held the phone away from her ear and waited for it to pass. When Olivia finished—or maybe she was just taking a deep breath—she in terrupted.

“Liv, please. Tell me how to get in touch with your husband. I know he’s in New York,” she said.

“Are you in New York?” Olivia asked. “I’ll call Finn, or … or Dad. He’ll send someone to pic k you up.”

“Then I get locked in the mansion for my safety. A prisoner in my home. I want my life back, Liv. I have to do s omething.”

“No, you don’t. Let Dad handle it, or Grady, or for Christ’s sake, Declan. Come home where you’ll be safe.”

“I can’t do that.”

“You mean you won’t,” Olivia snapped. “You’re so goddamn stubborn.”

“Olivia.”

“Okay. Oka y, fine.”

Her sister recited Declan’s number in a monotone voice. Caitlin jotted it on a pad of motel stationery she found in t he drawer.

“T hank you.”

“You’re welcome. Tell Declan to call his wife. If I don’t hear from you or my husband in twenty-four hours, I’m tel ling Dad.”

“If I don’t have this taken care of in twenty-four hours, I’m going to need Dad. I have to go. I love you, Liv.”

Olivia sighed. “I love you, too. Be careful , please.”

Caitlin hung up. She wanted to promise she would be careful, but she couldn’t do that, and she didn’t want to upset her sister any more than she already had. She picked up the phone again and dialed the number Olivia gave her. It went to voicemail.

“Declan, it’s Caitlin. I’m in New York, and I need your help.” She left the motel’s number along with her room number, then dropped the phone back in the cradle. She stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes.

Four hours later, she woke to the sound of a phone ringing. She dragged herself upright and snatched it off the table.

“Hell o? Hello?”

“Caitlin? It’s Declan. Where are you?”

“I’m at the West View Motel in North Bergen, New Jersey. I need your help. I want to talk to Moretti.”

Declan didn’t hesitate. “Absolu tely not.”

It was the answer she’d expected. “Please? If I talk to Aldo, I can explain ev erything.”

“What makes you think he’ll listen to you?” her brother-in-law asked. “He wants you dead. I’m trying to convince him not to kill you.”

“He’ll listen because I know who is responsible for Bobby’s death,” Caitlin explained. “I know who sent Joey and Gino to kill him, who set me up, and why. I need to talk to Aldo. Can you help m e or not?”

Declan sighed. “Yeah, I can help you. Let me arrange a meeting. I’ll call when I know more. Meanwhile, stay put. Do you un derstand?”

“How long am I supposed to wait?” sh e replied.

“Until I set something up. I mean it, Caitlin. Stay there until you hear from me.” The call disc onnected.

She hung up the phone and prayed it wouldn’t take long for Declan to arrange the meeting because she didn’t have the patienc e to wait.