Page 11 of Conor
“No.” I pull Archer up and hold him against my hip. Even though he’s getting too big for this at four years old, I can’t help it. “I think if you don’t mind, we might go down to the park and play for a while.”
“Of course.” Lacey nods in understanding. These moments with Archer are so precious that I don’t want to waste one second of them. “Let me grab his coat and gloves.”
Five minutes later, Archer and I are walking hand in hand down to the local park. It’s a nice community, and I’m grateful that he’s here. This is a safe place for Archer. Far away from Boston and in a house that’s secured like Fort Knox. Something Lacey insisted on when she had her own son.
“Tell me what you’ve been doing.” I help Archer onto the swing set and give him a little push.
He flutters his legs and shrugs. “We built an airplane.”
“You did?”
He smiles. “Lego airplane.”
My heart warms at his happy, easygoing expression, and I can only hope that in the end, when we come out of this, he will be okay. I hope someday he will understand that everything I’ve done is to keep him safe.
“Mommy got a new job,” I tell him. “Do you know what that means?”
“What?” He curls his arms around the chains and stares up at me with a face untainted by the darkness in this world.
“We’re going to be together very soon.”
He beams at me with a smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts. “Really? Can I bring my Legos?”
I laugh as tears spring to my eyes. “Yes, you can bring all your toys.”
For the next hour, we burn out all his energy and mine while I chase him around the park and utilize every square inch of the playground. It amazes me every time I come here to see how much he’s grown and changed. Even if it’s only been a few days, it seems like a lifetime.
As happy as I am to see him, it’s always bittersweet because I know it will be over soon and I’ll have to leave him again. And as much fun as we’re having, I can’t help the nagging sensation of doom in my gut. It’s potent today, and I find myself glancing around the park more often than usual, seeking out potential threats. Archer even asks me several times what I’m looking at, and I try my best to assure him that everything is okay, but I can’t shake that awful feeling that we’re being watched. As we’re leaving, it finally becomes apparent why.
Acid burns the back of my throat when I recognize the black BMW with Massachusetts plates parked across the street. I don’t know how long he’s been there, but when our eyes lock through the window, I know he’s done hiding.
“Please.” I shake my head as terror clogs my voice. “Please, no.”
Conor rolls down the window and gestures to the passenger seat. “Get in.”
I shake my head again, and Archer looks up at me. “What’s wrong, mama?”
“Nothing, sweetheart.” I give him a smile for his benefit. “Everything is just fine.”
“Don’t make a scene.” Conor’s lips flatten. “Just get in the car. It’s too bloody cold for you two to be out here like this.”
I’m trying not to lose my shit, I really am. But my son. He’s seen my son. My whole world is crumbling, and I don’t know how to handle this. No matter what, I lose.
Conor opens the door and gets out of the car, letting me know he’s done fucking around. I don’t want Archer to be afraid, and running is pointless. I cling to Archer’s hand with mine, desperately trying to think of a solution. My legs feel weak, and my heartbeat is thrashing in my ears. I don’t know Conor well enough to understand his character. But what else do I really need to know about him?
He’s mafia.
The mafia that I convinced myself it would be a great idea to go work for. “Please,” I whisper. “Leave him out of this.”
“Ivy,” Conor’s voice softens as his eyes meet mine. “Your son is safe. On that, I give ye my word.”
I pull Archer into my side, wanting so badly to believe it’s true. But Conor can see my doubt isn’t going anywhere, and he takes matters into his own hands, kneeling down so he’s face to face with my baby.
“Hello there, wee fella.” He ruffles Archer’s hair with his big hand. “My name is Conor, what’s yours?”
Archer giggles. “You have a funny accent.”
Conor’s lip tilts at the corner. “I know, aye.”
