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“That’s not true,” I said. “I take it every day like I’m su—”
Right in the middle of my sentence, I paused. I tried to remember if I had taken it that morning, but I couldn’t. Ididremember taking it the day before, but not the day before that.
“Shit,” I said. “I’ve been totally spacing on it.”
Kat nodded. “Stay right here.” With that, she ran to her room, leaving me there stunned. How the hell had I been so lax about taking the pill? I tried to think of an excuse, but all that I could come up with was that I’d been so occupied with work and Connor that it’d slipped my mind.
Kat returned with a small box in her hand.
“Here.”
She stuck it out to me, and I took it.
It was a pregnancy test.
“Wait, why the hell do you have this?”
“Because, uh, I had a bit of a scare with Trevor not too long ago. I’m not pregnant, by the way. But I did buy way more of those than I needed.”
“There’s no way I’m pregnant,” I said. “No way.”
“Are you kidding? The dizziness, the throwing up, the look on your face when you were about to drink that wine…” She nodded. “Just take it. Those tests are instant now, and practically foolproof. If you’re negative, then that’s one less thing to worry about. OK?”
I sighed, looking at the box in my hand.
“OK.”
“Good luck.”
With that, she shut the door. I opened the box and pulled the test out, giving the instructions a quick read.
I did what I needed to, and when the results appeared, I held the stick in front of me. Nervousness had my stomach in a vicelike grip as I read the outcome.
“Holy shit.”
Chapter 31
Connor
The sky above was slate gray, Kellan at my right side, Mrs. Coonan at my left. The funeral of Eddie Coonan was well underway, a good hundred people there from the criminal world of Boston, all having come to pay their respects to the now-passed kingpin. The funeral was outside, dark gray storm clouds gathering overhead. The rain over the last few weeks had seemed endless, and I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see the sun again.
Mrs. Coonan was a basket case, the tears flowing and her wails filling the otherwise quiet air. While I was mourning in my own way, I didn’t have the luxury of wearing my emotions on my sleeve. The unspoken news was that I was Eddie’s successor, the heir of the most powerful organized crime syndicate in the city.
For the moment, at least. After the funeral, an emergency meeting was to take place at Pussycats where I’d be announcing that I’d be stepping down, and Kellan would be taking over. My tenure as the official head of the organization would be less than a day. That was more than fine with me. I had a new life to start with a woman I was beginning to realize I was quickly falling in love with.
“I can’t believe he’s gone… I can’t…” Mrs. Coonan kept on wailing, her tears soaking the shoulder of my suit. After a time, a small group of her female friends, all of them in tears too, came over to her, gently leading her away from me and over to a more secluded area where she could mourn.
“How you feeling, brother?” I asked, leaning over to Kellan.
“End of an era,” he said.
“And the beginning of a new one.”
Kellan was passing the first test, remaining stony and stoic during an emotionally difficult time. If he was to be the head of the organization, showing weakness was unacceptable—especially in front of the cartel members that were in attendance.
Jose Burciaga was there, dressed all in black, his eyes hidden behind gaudy designer sunglasses, his hands clasped behind his back. To his right was none other than Enrique Juarez, one of the three leaders of the cartel, and the representative of his organization in the United States.
Enrique was heavyset and well dressed, his thinning black hair slicked back, a thick, gold chain hanging from his neck, his fingers adorned with rings set with colorful jewels. Everything about him cried out money and power. Behind him and Jose was a line of a half-dozen cartel lackeys.
