The Marriage Contract(70)

“And you sound like you haven’t been drinking nearly enough.” Teague peered into his brother’s beer. It blurred for a moment before snapping into focus. “Are you sober?”

“Someone has to be there to make sure you lot don’t end up lost and passed out in a back alley.”

Teague turned to Aiden. “You hear that? He’s not even drunk.” Hell, he shouldn’t have drank so much tonight—he hadn’t planned on it when he’d agreed to this—but the nostalgic feeling of being surrounded by his brothers had made him careless. He shook his head. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get a watch.” Cillian snickered. “God, I crack myself up.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.” Teague flicked a peanut shell at him. He glanced at his phone and grimaced. It was well after one in the morning. “We have Mass in seven hours.”

They all exchanged looks. Cillian shrugged. “Not like I haven’t shown up hungover for Mass before.”

“There’s a difference between showing up hungover and showing up still drunk.” Aiden rose, wobbled a little, and then straightened. “I’ll take care of our tab.”

“I guess that’s that.” Cillian drained his beer and stretched. “I’ve got to use the pisser.”

Teague watched him stumble off. “Our brother is a serious winner.”

“Leave him alone. We each deal with this stuff in our own way.”

That was the damn truth. It just seemed like stress, and their family bullshit didn’t touch Cillian the way it did the rest of them. But what did he know? He and Cillian had never been particularly close—responsibility weighed on Teague too heavily and his younger brother too lightly for them to do more than aggravate the hell out of each other. He glanced at Devlin. Maybe he was right. “How’d you get so smart?”

“I learned from the best.” He grinned. “Now, let’s get you home so you’re not a mess for your woman tomorrow.”

They’d specifically picked a pub they could walk back from, though he wasn’t sure the few blocks would be enough to sober them up before they got there. Teague collected Cillian and handed him off to Aiden. The walk through the brisk night air would hopefully balance out the short distance before they actually reached the front door. His mother didn’t bother to yell at them, but she could send all four of them to their knees with a look of profound disappointment. “I’d like to be able to do that someday.”

Devlin looked over. “Do what?”

“That thing our mother does with her face when we’ve screwed up.”

Aiden snorted. “Good luck with that. She’s had an entire lifetime to perfect that look.” He cursed when Cillian swerved and started singing “Kiss Me, I’m Shitfaced” at the top of his lungs. “Damn it, shut up. You’ll get the cops called on us for sure.”

“That’s sure to get us the look from Mother.” Teague laughed. Headlights cut through the night, blinding them. Devlin yanked him back onto the sidewalk, waiting for the truck or whatever it was to drive past.

Except it didn’t.

A car door opened in the sudden silence of the night. Behind him, Aiden cursed, but Teague still didn’t get it…until a man stepped in front of the headlights, a gun in his hand. Shit. He backpedaled, keeping a death grip on Devlin’s arm. He was vaguely aware of Aiden doing the same thing with Cillian, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the man. “Don’t do this.” He raised his voice. “This is a mistake.”

“The mistake is yours, fuckers.”

The first bullet tore into the brick next to him, surreally loud. He dropped to the ground, dragging Devlin with him, cursing himself to hell and back for not getting them a damn cab. The shots kept going for what felt like an eternity, but was most likely a few seconds.

A second voice joined the first. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“I need to—” A footstep in their direction.

“Now.”

The door slammed and the SUV peeled out, flying down the street just as sirens cut through the night. Teague slowly pushed himself up. His ribs hurt like someone had dealt him a vicious blow to the chest, but nothing felt worse than bruises. “Aiden?”

“We’re good.”

“Thank Christ.”

A low groan brought his attention around to Devlin. He frowned. “You okay?”

Another groan, this one eerily wet sounding. It took his brain a second too long to process what he was hearing. He crawled to Devlin’s side, nearly falling over himself in his hurry. “Devlin?”