The Killer's Fake Bride (Possessive Dark Mafia)

I was a Healy girl, through and through, and I hated it.

The school was around the corner and up ahead. Young guys played basketball on the court, half them shirtless. The playground was empty though like it almost always was, and I hustled to the swings.

I was too old for this. Back when we were younger, Nessa and I used to come to this spot all the time to talk about our overbearing cousins and uncles and fathers. We’d endlessly discuss the Healy family and its insanely dense politics, with its relationships and strange entanglements, and always we’d agree that as soon as it was possible, we both wanted to get out.

Now I was twenty, and I knew that wouldn’t ever happen.

I spotted Nessa hurrying over to me. Short, dark hair, big round eyes, pretty smile. She had a good figure but she always kept it hidden under big baggy pants and even bigger, baggier sweatshirts. She said it was easier than getting stared at all the time, which I totally understood. I looked down at myself, and realized I did the same thing.

“‘Sup, ‘sup,” she said, nodding at me, and sat down heavily on the swing to my right.

“Thanks for coming so fast,” I said.

“Better than sitting around and watching my dad watch football again.” She sighed and leaned back, swinging slightly. “Did you hear about Desmond?”

“No,” I said. “Which one’s that again?”

“Tattoo on his chest that said, Only God Can Judge Me. Anyway, he’s dead, killed by a Valentino.”

My jaw clenched. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Just last night. Can you believe it? I mean, he was a total asshole. He shoved me in the pool one time when I was twelve and showed me his dick when I was fourteen, and I’m pretty sure we’re actually related. Still, how many’s it been now?” She stared down at her feet.

I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said, but I knew it was a lot. The war with the Valentino family took its toll, and it felt like every week some new young man in the Healy family ended up dead. I didn’t know why Uncle Colm kept fighting and didn’t just try to make peace, since the Valentino family had way more territory and way more strength than we did, but he was stubborn, the old bastard.

I didn’t hate the Valentino family, not exactly. They murdered people I knew, but we also killed them. None of those dead boys were innocent, far from it. Most of them were violent assholes that put themselves in bad situations.

Still, the Valentino family was like a specter haunting my life, and just when I thought things were as bad as they could be, the Valentinos appeared to remind me that no, things could be much worse.

“I thought that’s why you wanted to talk,” Nessa said. “I guess I’m a little sad about it. His dick was sort of huge honestly.”

“Oh my god, Nessa.”

“What? I know he was my cousin, but whatever, he showed it to me.”

“Don’t talk like that about the dead.”

She snorted. “Should I lie then? Say he was a bright guy and really nice to animals? Desmond was a fucking asshole and an idiot and the world’s probably better off that he’s dead.” She paused then grinned. “But he did have a big dick.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I felt a sudden pang of nervous energy rush over me as I stared out over at the boys playing basketball. They were all young, teenagers, probably high school guys. I bet half them would join the Healy family before they turned twenty, and half of those would be dead before thirty.

Just how it went in the mafia families.

“No, I needed to talk about something else.” I reached into my hoodie pouch and touched the pregnancy tests just to remind myself that they were there, and they were real.

“What’s up?” Nessa asked. “You look anxious. Paler than normal. You okay?”

“Honestly, Nessa, I’m not okay,” I said. “I’m very fucking not okay.”

She stopped swinging, frowning. “All right,” she said. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

I ripped the tests from my pouch and shoved them at her. She stared for a second then looked up at me.

“Uh. Did you piss on those?”

“Yes, and I put a cap on the tip so relax. Just look at them, okay?”

She took the tests, holding them like they were radioactive spiders, and frowned at the windows. “Oh my god,” she said, sucking in a breath. Her eyes went wide. “Oh my god, no.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re pregnant. You’re seriously pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant. I’m also dead. Me and Desmond, dead as hell. And I don’t have a big dick.”

“Oh my god!” She shoved the tests back at me. I took them as she jumped to her feet and started pacing. “Does your dad know? What about Uncle Colm? Does anyone know? Who’s the father? Does he know? Sam, you realize you’re fucked, right? I mean, like, really fucked, and not just fun fucked, but really bad fucked.”