“I know you did. I’ll do what I can to keep things from truly blowing up, but I’ve gotta be honest—it’s not looking good. My old man is out for blood.”
He’d expected as much. “I appreciate it. I’m working this end as hard as I can right now, but I’ve got even less influence than you do.”
“What’s that brother of yours have to say about this?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? Aiden’s insistence that he marry Callie was part of the reason they were in this shit storm to begin with. Teague sure as hell hoped his brother had thought about the potential consequences before he pulled the trigger on their plans. Though, if he had, he should have seen that this war was possible—even likely. So either he didn’t, or he’d been okay with the cost. “I’ll be sure to ask him.”
“You do that.” James hesitated. “Hey, Teague?”
“Yeah?”
“If we’re not both dead by the end of this, you want to grab a beer sometime?”
He laughed. “Yeah, for sure.”
“Good luck.” Then he was gone, leaving Teague alone with his thoughts.
It wasn’t a pretty place to be. He’d never once thought that his brother would hang him out to dry as a means to justify the end, but now he couldn’t shake the feeling that Aiden had done just that. He typed out a quick text. Need to talk, STAT.
Five seconds later he got his reply. Library. Ten minutes.
Enough time for him to jump in the shower. It felt a little like a betrayal to wash off the memory of Callie as soon as he walked through the damn door, but he needed his head on straight for confronting Aiden. He toweled off and dragged on a pair of jeans. Since his brother still hadn’t shown, he texted her. Sleep sweet, angel. I’ll call you tomorrow. He set his phone on the nightstand and ran his hands over his face. Maybe he should have waited to do this shit until morning when he was fresh, but he wasn’t going to be able to get a damn bit of sleep until he knew the truth.
Exactly ten minutes after he’d texted, Aiden walked into the library and closed the door. His brother was nothing if not punctual. Teague barely waited for him to drop onto the leather couch before he spoke, “Tell me that you didn’t pawn me off on Callista Sheridan to provoke a war with the Hallorans.”
“We didn’t fire the first shot. That was all Victor and his men.”
That wasn’t an answer, and Aiden damn well knew it. Teague crossed his arms over his chest. “I want the truth. If you and our father are using me in a grab for territory, I damn well deserve to know.”
“I do what’s best for our family. That’s all any of us do.” His brother’s face showed nothing. It was like looking at a stranger instead of his old partner in crime. He’d known Aiden was changing in recent years, but he’d been so wrapped up in his own misery that he hadn’t paid as close attention as he should have. A mistake, Teague realized now. He’d been sure his brother would support him over his father.
Now he couldn’t shake the feeling that belief was wrong.
“What happened to you?”
“I grew the fuck up.” Aiden paced from one side of the room to the other, agitation in every move. “And you know what I saw, Teague? Our father isn’t as cracked as we thought he was.”
His brother had to be insane to think that. Seamus O’Malley would have been perfectly at home a few centuries ago, ruling some kingdom and answering to no one. But he’d never moved into the future, and how he conducted the family now was damn near unforgivable. “He moves us around like pawns on his own personal chessboard.”
“He’s doing what it takes to keep our family safe. That calls for hard decisions, which you’d see if you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to look around and think about anyone but yourself. Times are changing, and we can’t afford to be on the wrong side of it.”
The words could have come straight from his father. Teague had ever been the disappointment—the son who wouldn’t fall in line, who questioned everything, who wasn’t cold enough to believe the end justified the means. Apparently Aiden didn’t have that problem. “I see things clearly enough.” Enough to know if he wanted to stop this shit, he was going to have to do it himself.
A small voice chose that moment to pipe up and demand to know what the fuck he thought he could do to stop it, but he ignored it. He’d find a way. He’d promised his sisters that he’d keep them safe, and now there was Callie to consider as well. Anything his family did to aggravate the issue painted a target on her back the same as it did his. Unacceptable.