The Killer's New Wife

There was no way their leader went to a public place for breakfast like that without a ton of backup. Those two were the heads of the family, and if they got killed, the Healys would have a lot of problems. There were other Healy men to step into their positions, but there’d be infighting, and the Valentino family would be able to swoop in during the chaos to take them all out.

And yet I saw nobody. I kept the engine running and bounced my knee nervously, not sure what I was supposed to do. Ten minutes turned to thirty turned to forty, and finally the front doors opened, and the two men stepped out again. They talked to each other, Colm laughed about something, then they began walking down the block.

Ewan came speeding toward me. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging low. He jumped into the passenger side then pounded on the dash. “Follow them,” he said.

“Follow where?”

“That way,” he said, pointing, and I pulled out into traffic.

I rolled past Colm and Fergal as they meandered along, talking to each other genially. I went around the block and we stopped at a stop sign long enough for Ewan to run around and get behind the wheel. I felt better in the passenger’s seat as he took control and rolled ahead, driving fast, until we spotted Fergal and Colm climbing into a black SUV.

Ewan tailed them. The SUV took a circuitous route through West Philly, dipped along South Street, headed toward the stadiums, then doubled back north again. “What are they doing?” I wondered aloud.

“Trying to keep me from sticking with them,” Ewan said.

“Do they know we’re back here?”

“No,” he said, though he didn’t sound sure. “They’re being careful.”

“Why?” I asked. “They just got back from having breakfast as some secret spot.”

“I have a feeling we’ll find out soon.” He leaned forward over the wheel, and we continued the chase. The SUV followed every traffic rule, and drove carefully, but continued its strange, shifting route. Eventually it crossed back into West Philly and kept going past Drexel, out to the edge of the suburbs, where the houses turned from row homes to single-floor ranchers with grassy front lawns and back yards.

The SUV slowed and stopped in front of one of houses. It was small, green shutters, big red door. The lawn was well maintained, the flowerbeds mulched and weeded. A nice Cadillac sat in the driveway. Ewan went around the block and when we returned, Colm stood on the front porch, smoking a cigar alone.

I saw Ewan’s face then. It was strained, a mix of anger and need. He wanted to roll his window down and try to kill Colm right then and there. The opportunity had presented itself, and Colm was totally unaware. The SUV was gone and presumably Fergal was gone with it, but Calm was the real target, the guy that Ewan really wanted.

I put a hand on his arm. He looked at me, eyes blazing, and kept driving past. We parked two blocks down, and he leaned back in his seat, staring out ahead of him.

“That’s Colm’s house,” he said.

“You got the number?”

He nodded. “I’ll never forget it. Bastard’s right there, like he’s safe.”

“Probably thinks he is.” I took his hand in mine. “You did the right thing, driving on. You need to plan something, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to look at me. “But mostly I didn’t want you to see me do it.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Seriously?”

“You’ve seen enough already,” he said. “I can’t keep hurting people in front of you.”

It was so absurd that I couldn’t help the laughter as it spilled out. I shook my head and released his hand, and tried to calm myself down, but it was impossible.

He killed my father in front of me. He shot Franz in the gut like it was no big deal. He drowned a guy in a toilet while I watched. And now suddenly he thought maybe he shouldn’t be violent where I could see, like I was some dainty rose and he didn’t want to corrupt me. He ripped me from my life and now he worried what it might do to me.

“I’m already broken,” I said as my laughter slowed down. “Don’t you see that?”

“You don’t need to be,” he said, face lined with pain. “I don’t want that for you, Tara. I don’t want you to be like I am.”

“I think it might be too late.” I stared at him, then leaned closer and kissed his cheek. He turned, and I kissed him, slowly tasting his lips before pulling away. “I want to marry you.”

First he frowned. Then he smiled. Then his head tilted to one side and he looked confused, like he wasn’t sure what he should feel. “You’re sure?”