Page 1 of Twisted Contract

Prologue

Connor

I stare at my brother in horror as the room spins. “What the fuck do you mean, Mom’s gone?” My chest caves in, and I can’t breathe. I dropped down to the leather sofa in his office, trying to process what he just said. My head shakes from side to side in pure disbelief. The sweet, calm, angelic woman couldn’t be gone. No.

My world seems to be crumbling around me. Still, I try to remain strong, but how can I?

“Mom is dead.” Jack chokes on the words as if they’re stuck in his throat. I want him to take them back and tell me it’s a damn lie, but I know he wouldn’t do something like that to me. No, Jack would never be that fucking sick and twisted. We are all fucked up in our own right, but one thing we’re not is liars.

There are things going on in my head that I can’t say or act on, but anger sits at the forefront. This shouldn’t be happening. I shake my head. “No. No. No. My mother can’t be dead,” I mutter, my words growing dark and angry.

“According to the doctors, she became ill after the labor and never really recovered.” No, I can’t believe this bullshit. Of all the people that need to leave this world, it would be the asshole who put her in this position in the first place. I want to kick his old ass, maybe put a bullet in his brain.

“I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no, Brother.” Jack stares me down because our animosity toward our father has only grown over the years, but this is a new level.

“What about the baby?” I ask. Our mother gave birth about a week ago to a little boy, and he was the reason she’dbeen sick. In my opinion no woman her age should be carrying a baby. The risk is too great. Childbirth, although necessary and miraculous, is insanely brutal to a woman and my father knew it. He risked her life for another child like a selfish prick.

“You mean our baby brother?” he questions, raising his brows in that unforgiving expression of disapproval. Jack, as the eldest, took being the caretaker of us extremely seriously and that extended to the new addition.

“Yes, of course. It’s not like I forgot John is our brother. It’s just—” I hate the thoughts flooding my brain, but my heart is cracked—shattered is more like it.

“If he hadn’t been born, Mom would still be alive, but that shit isn’t his fault, and you know it.” Yes, I do. It’s not his fault at all, but I’m being an irrational young man who just lost his mother. What the fuck does he expect?

“I expect you to act like a loving brother to an innocent child,” he answers. Son of a bitch. I’m such a mess that I’m speaking my thoughts aloud. It’s not something someone in my position should do no matter the circumstances.

“Fine. All my hate will be for our father,” I state, thinking about his role in this. If he hadn’t knocked her up at fifty years old, she wouldn’t be gone.

“I never expected anything different.”

Jack’s office door swings open. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Ian walks in slowly and before we can say a word, he slams his fist through Jack’s wall, destroying it like it was paper. He’s two years younger than me, but Ian’s a muscled beast. He could rip my father’s head off, and I’m betting he wants to as much as we do, but there are rules.

Ignoring the splintered wood and plaster, Jack walks over and hands Ian a glass of whiskey.

“I’m sorry,” Ian apologizes, tossing back the drink as if he doesn’t have busted and bloody knuckles.

“Don’t be sorry, Ian. Our mother is gone, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Fuck, it’s killing me to consider never seeing her beautifully sweet face again,” Jack says. He might be the oldest and my father’s right-hand man, but that doesn’t eliminate him from the pain of losing our mother. His eyes are red-rimmed as he tries to remain tough.

I pour myself a drink and toss it back in one long gulp. She’d been out of the hospital and back home for only two days before they rushed her back in.

“We saw her last night and were supposed to head back over for our morning visit,” I say, wondering how the hell this happened.

“I know, I know.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

“She was too damn old to be having a baby,” Ian adds, slamming his glass down.

“What we need to do is give our love to our little brother, who she loved,” I say. Jack was right about him, and I understand that now. She wouldn’t want anything to happen to him because she loved him. She said John was a precious gift that she treasured and that we should too.

“You’ve had a change of heart,” Jack accuses.

“Look, he’s my brother, just like you two, but it’s hard to bond with the little guy. We’ve only seen him once in the hospital. He’s sick, and he’s with the nurse now.”

A knock interrupts our conversation. “Enter.”

Jack’s housekeeper, Nova, enters, frowning as she sees us. Her face is red and blotchy from her own tears shed for my mother, who everyone loved. “Mr. MacNamara, your father ison the phone for you,” she says with a hiccup. My skin crawls at the mention of him. Ian’s entire form Ian charged. His body tightened and his face hardened.

“Thank you.” She leaves us, closing the door behind her.

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