The Marriage Contract(87)

She barely got through the door when James’s hand closed around her upper arm. He jerked her forward hard enough that she stumbled. If she expected him to parade her around his family or throw her to the wolves immediately, she was sorely mistaken. Instead, he dragged her upstairs and practically threw her into a room. She shoved her hair out of her face and gasped when she saw Carrigan cuffed to a bed. Callie spun to face him. “You have me. Let her go.”

“No.”

It took a full five seconds for the word to penetrate. “That was the deal. You said that was the deal—you have Brendan’s killer, and you’ll let her go.”

“I lied.” James slammed the door shut, and the sound of the lock clicking into place filled the room.

Callie stared at the closed door. He’d…lied. All her careful planning and he’d lied. Frustration built up, clawing its way through her stomach and throat, tearing past her lips in a scream that shook her very being. It felt so damn good that she screamed again, grabbing the closest thing to hand—a heavy lamp—and flinging it at the heavy wood. It hit with a meaty thump and fell to the floor with a clang.

“Been there, done that. It won’t change anything.”

She turned to find Carrigan watching her. The hopelessness that had been threatening since she walked into that pub got stronger, eating away at the edges of her vision. No. I am Callista Sheridan, and I will not give up without a fight. She smoothed her hair back. This is why contingency plans exist. Though with the way things were playing out right now, she wasn’t willing to trust that, either.

So be it.

She’d just come up with a contingency plan for her contingency plan. “Then we’ll just have to find another way.”





James walked down the stairs like a man on his way to the hangman’s noose. Goddamn Callista motherfucking Sheridan. It was bad enough when he thought the woman who’d pulled the trigger that ended Brendan’s life was some poor, defenseless girl pushed beyond her limit. Bringing so-called justice to someone who was just another victim would taint his soul almost beyond repair.

But he could have lived with it if it meant the O’Malleys and Sheridans were no longer gunning for him and his.

Now…now he was in an impossible situation. To bring justice to Brendan’s killer meant taking out Sheridan’s heir. He’d heard the traces of fear in her voice when she’d confessed. She was no assassin, sneaking into that club to cold-bloodedly kill his brother. Brendan had mistaken her for a stripper, and knowing the way he treated the strippers… A traitorous part of James’s mind didn’t blame her for defending herself.

Why the fuck had she gone there in the first place?

Because that was lose-lose no matter how he spun it. Either things ended the way they did—with his brother dead and her running off—or Brendan would have done irreparable harm to her and they’d be in the same fucking spot they were now.

If Callista Sheridan died, it would bring all the might and righteous fury of both the O’Malleys and the Sheridans down on their heads. He’d seen the look on Teague’s face when he mentioned her. The man was out of his damn mind for the woman, and he wasn’t going to take this lying down, no matter how much he wanted his own people safe. And removing Sheridan’s heir would also remove the last thing holding Colm Sheridan back from going out in a blaze of glory and taking them all with him.

This shit was well and truly fucked.

He strode into his father’s office, flinching at the heat from the roaring fireplace. It didn’t matter if today was particularly hot and sticky. The old man had a chill in his bones that he never quite shook. The rest of them just lived with it. His gaze landed on his little brother sitting next to his father. What the fuck was going on here?

Victor raised gnarled hands. “I hear you’ve found the little bitch who killed your brother.”

James narrowed his gaze at his brother. Someone from the pub must have called Ricky. His idiot brother just smirked like he’d done something smart. It was enough to have James’s fists clenching. He hated that Ricky saw the movement and paled before setting his jaw and raising his chin.

He had to approach this right. There would only be one chance to keep this from going completely tits up, so he couldn’t fuck this up. He straightened. “Things are more complicated than we expected.”

“I don’t see the complication. We’ll skin the little—”

“It’s Callista Sheridan.”

Victor frowned. “Sheridan’s daughter?”

He took a deep breath. “It was an accident.” Lie. “She was meeting Brendan, and there was some confusion and the gun went off.” Lie. “She’s been too afraid to come forward.” That, at least, he suspected was partly true.