The Marriage Contract(6)

I miss you so much, big brother. If you were here, none of this would have happened. Why, oh why, didn’t you call a cab that night?

She rubbed the old ache in her chest and allowed herself to really consider running for three seconds before she discarded the idea. Papa wouldn’t be alive forever—not when he’d aged decades in a matter of months after her brother died. Between his blood pressure skyrocketing and the doctor’s dire warnings about lifestyle choices and his heart’s ability to cope, he needed her.

If she left now, she might be able to live what passed for a normal life, but it was a selfish dream. When her father passed…God, that hurt to even think about…his generals would rise up in a battle for power that would hurt the very people they were supposed to protect. Oh, they might not see it that way, but Callie did. Without her here to fight for them to become a legitimate business, things would continue to stay the same way they’d always been.

And that was unacceptable.

She stopped just inside the massive room where they were supposed to have the party to announce her engagement, frowning. It was full to the brim with people. She recognized enough familiar faces to know that half of them were hers, but…

Those weren’t Halloran men.

Papa approached, an older man next to him. She looked into those dark eyes and her entire body went cold. Seamus O’Malley. The O’Malleys were the other third to the Irish underground, but they were barely better than street thugs. They were everything she was trying to get the Sheridans away from. He scanned her as if judging her worth.

Which was apparently exactly what he was doing, because he turned to her father. “She’s as exquisite as you promised. Teague will be as pleased as I am.”

Oh no. No, no, no. This couldn’t possibly be happening. But, as she looked from one man to the other, she realized that it was. Brendan’s death hadn’t changed anything. Her father had merely switched out grooms, like they were paper dolls he’d assembled to do his bidding. Without telling her.

Her calming breaths weren’t doing much more than making her light-headed. She felt like she’d just chewed off her leg to escape an animal trap, only to fall into a pit of sharpened stakes. “I…I need to use the ladies’ room. Excuse me, please.”

She spun blindly without waiting for an answer, needing to be anywhere but here. A scream worked its way up her throat, clashing against her closed teeth, demanding release. She couldn’t let it out. If she started screaming, she wasn’t going to stop. She pushed through the doors, moved down the hallway and through another set to the quiet of the alley.

Would this O’Malley man be any better than Brendan was? She’d met the heir, Aiden, before, and he’d been nice enough—courteous, even. Their family didn’t have the same reputation the Hallorans did, but that didn’t mean this man wasn’t as much of a monster as Brendan had been.

Would he…

She pressed her hands to her mouth. I don’t think I can do it again. I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life about what happened to Brendan. She leaned against the brick wall and closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing and very carefully not thinking about the fact that she’d spent several hours with her father today going over the past quarter’s finances of several of the restaurants she ran for the family—and he hadn’t seen fit to mention this turn of events.

It would be okay. It had to be okay. If this Teague was a monster, too, well she already knew she was capable of defending herself. Her stomach twisted at the thought. Please, God, please don’t make me do it again. There had to be another way—a better way to protect her family. She was so wrapped up in her misery, she didn’t realize she was no longer alone until a rough male voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Want a smoke?”

Callie opened her eyes to a man offering her an opened pack of cigarettes. He was attractive in a brutish sort of way, his jaw square, cheekbones to kill for, and shoulders filling out his expensive suit in a way that didn’t look the least bit comfortable.

“I don’t smoke.”

“Now’s as good a time to start as any.” He shook one out and handed it to her, and then lit the one dangling between his lips.

She started to hand hers back and then reconsidered. What was one cigarette going to hurt? It certainly couldn’t make the night any worse. “Ah…thank you.”

He offered the lighter, cupping the flame between his big hands, and waited for her to lean in and light it. It felt shockingly intimate, as if they were sharing a secret or other such nonsense. She looked away, inhaling sharply, and started coughing. “Oh God.”