My dad presses a kiss to my head. His gaze drifts behind me, and it’s then I remember Lucca.
“He’s the one who brought you back to us?”
I look at Lucca, who’s half watching us with hooded eyes.
“Yes.” I turn, but my mother’s hands don’t release me. “It’s okay, Mam.” I touch her fingers, but she doesn’t release me. I’m drawn back to Lucca.
“He spoke with us on the phone.” My dad is still looking at Lucca.
“Now you can meet him in person.” I smile at Lucca and wave him over. He’s hesitant, but he starts to walk to us. My mother still holds me, and right now, I’m okay with that. The moment Lucca reaches us, he exhales a breath.
“Are you okay?” He asks like my parents aren’t on either side of me.
I want to cry. I want to throw myself into his arms and thank him a million times over. “I am now that we are all together.”
I glance up at my dad. “This is Lucca, my boyfriend.”
I don't know who’s more surprised, Lucca or me. Lucca takes my dad’s outstretched hand and shakes it.
“Thank you, son, for bringing her home.” My dad’s voice shakes like it must have a thousand times over since I’ve been gone.
“Your welcome.” Lucca has that uncomfortable look in his gaze again.
My mother releases me and attaches herself to Lucca. She’s crying, her words a jumble of thanks and pain.
“Come on, let’s get Evie home.” My dad has reclaimed it now. My mam releases Lucca nodding several times.
I hold out my other hand for Lucca. “Let’s go home.”
He takes my hand. My mother sinks into my dad’s other side, and we walk back to the house. The small candle is burning in the window just like I remember. The sight of it twists me up before uncurling itself, and I know right there and then that I am truly home.
MAFIA PRINCE: BOOK ONE IN THE IRISH MAFIA SERIES IS OUT NOW!
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PROLOGUE
MAEVE
Memories.
Sometimes we build them up so high that they take on a life of their own. Sometimes they manifest into beasts that consume us from the inside out. Sometimes life loses its color, and we wait for the harsh reality that is to come.
No one told me it would be this hard.
Sometimes the power of a memory can either destroy us or lift us up.
My beast is a destroyer and wears two faces, one given by Jack O’Reagan and the other by dear old daddy. Yeah, on the same day, these two men seemed to tear me to shreds, and I’ve never been able to put myself back together. I’ve tried. Trust me, I have, but it’s like each time I try to swim, the water rages around my ankles, and its icy fingers tighten painfully as it drags me out to sea until I’m drowning. So, through life, I’ve learned to float.
I try not to think too much or feel too much. So far, I’ve gotten by just fine like that; until more moments build-up, and soon you are looking at a mountain of shit. The shit pile is so high that I can’t see around it anymore. It blocks out all the light and plunges my world into darkness. The sad part is, the one person who might be able to help me is the one who started all this. The one who helped bury me knee-deep in all this pain and suffering.
The irony.
Fourteen years ago…
“Push me higher.” Dana squeals like a princess on some adventure, and I want to be right there with her, so I push her higher, and her squeals of delight force a smile out of me.
“Higher, Maeve.”
Her long dark hair whooshes towards me, and I turn my head to the side, avoiding the sting to my eyes that her long tendrils would inflict. Instead, it’s a short-lived sting to my face as I push her higher. She soars into the sky, her white dress clinging to her ballerina frame, and she continues to laugh, drawing the attention of her mother.
Immediately, I ease down on my pushes. Svetlana smiles at Dana, with one hand on her hip. “Girls, that’s too high.” Her mother is beautiful, just like Dana. She has black hair and crystal blue eyes, which smile even when her mouth doesn’t move. They both make me feel happy and at ease.
“Sorry, mom.” Dana giggles.
Reaching out, I grip the rope in my hands and pull back until it burns my palms, but it slows Dana down, and her mother steps onto the manicured lawn.
“You girls thirsty?” Svetlana glances from me to her daughter. The red dress she wears doesn’t billow in a breeze as I imagine it should with its long tail. It’s as still as the air.
I lick my lips. The sun is high in the sky, and pushing Dana for so long has tired me out. “Yes, please.”
“Maeve, your manners are wonderful,” Svetlana speaks while staring at her daughter, who jumps off the swing and marches into her mother’s outstretched arms. A pin pricks the back of my neck, and I don’t understand the sensation fully, but it disappears when Dana steps out of her mother’s embrace.
“I’ll be just a minute.” Svetlana smiles. Her words are spoken differently than Dana, and I speak. Dana says
