Page 7 of Dark Succession
Ricky, the idiot, had no such reservations. “We have news.”
Victor shook himself and seemed to come back to them. “You’ve found out who’s killed your brother.”
“No, but—”
“Then why are you here?” He practically roared it, his voice loud enough to have come from a man twice his size.
Ricky shrank back, like a dog that’d been kicked one too many times, and it was everything James could do not to join him. For all his sins, Brendan had always stood between his younger brothers and their father, and now hewas gone. Christ, every time he thought that, the claws shredding his chest seemed to grow. He stepped forward, all too aware that he was about to put himself into the warpath. “There’s something else.”
“Then stop standing there with your thumb up your ass, and spit it out.”
Easier said than done. He took a deep breath. “The Sheridan girl—the one who was supposed to marry Brendan—is now marrying Teague O’Malley. They’re announcing it tonight.” Possibly right this second.
Victor’s cane hit the floor with a meaty thump, and he pushed himself to his feet. “Tonight.”
It wasn’t a question but he answered it anyway. “Yes.”
“That bastard didn’t even give me the courtesy of informing me himself.” He turned to the fire again, muttering under his breath. “Should have passed the girl to one of the other boys. Both worthless pieces of shit, but that’s the proper way to do things.”
Jesus. James didn’t have to look at Ricky to know there was naked pain in his brother’s eyes. They’d never measured up to Victor’s standards, and in recent years he’d stopped pretending he’d ever done more than tolerate their presence. James stared at the portrait over the mantel, wondering for the millionth time what their mother had seen in this angry, bitter man. She’d loved her boys, and loved them fiercely, right up until the cancer stole her from them fifteen years ago. Maybe it was better that way—better that she’d gone the way of the angels before she’d seen the men they’d become.
Ricky shifted. “Father, we can’t let this insult stand. Brendan’s body isn’t even cold and they’re already pawning that bitch off on someone else.”
James shot him a look that he pointedly ignored. He doubted the dynamics in the Sheridan family were all that much different than theirs—meaning Callista Sheridan had no say in this mess. It was her father to blame. “Don’t be disrespectful.”
“Your brother’s right for once. Sheridan is spitting in the face of our grief, and I won’t stand for it.” Victor turned to them. With the fire framing his body, he looked like a devil who’d crawled his way up from hell. He turned his steely blue eyes on James. “We’re going to war.”
CHAPTER THREE
Everyone was taking their seats as Teague slipped through the doors and made his way to the half of the table that had been designated for the O’Malley family. He met Callista’s gaze, a primal satisfaction he had no right to soaring through him at the glazed look in her eyes and the way her lips were reddened and plumped from kissing him. He stopped in front of her. “We’ll be talking later.”
He could see the exact moment the mask slipped into place, her desire replaced by cold disinterest. “I don’t think so.” That was fine. She could hide behind the mask for as long as she liked—they’d be married and sharing a home shortly, and there would be no more opportunities to dodge him then.
So he gave her a tight smile and took his place on the other side of his parents. Sitting this close to his father was enough to give him indigestion at the best of times,and tonight was hardly that, despite the silver lining of actually being attracted to Callista.
His mother leaned closer and dug her fingers into his forearm. She looked particularly put together tonight, her dress designed to show off the fact that she was still willowy and beautiful despite having brought seven children into this world. “I know you don’t want this, but it’s vital you keep any theatrics to yourself.”
Theatrics. Like he was a spoiled little boy who was in danger of throwing a tantrum when he didn’t get what he wanted. The old anger rose again, but he managed to wrangle it out of his voice. “I’ll be good.”
Her green eyes were sympathetic, even if her grip wasn’t. “This is for the best. You’ll see.” It was always like this with her. In her own way, Aileen O’Malley was just as much of a hard-ass as her husband—possibly even more so.
“Whatever you say.” And then there was no more time for talking, because his father and Sheridan rose. Teague tuned them out as they went through what were no doubt practiced speeches. They were just words—words about putting old arguments to rest and starting fresh with a new generation and a peace and booming business that would benefit all.
If anyone in this room thought for a second that this marriage would put an end to the backbiting and squabbling over territory, they were delusional. It was a patch, and not even a good one at that. No one spoke about the fact that, less than twenty-four hours ago, Callista had been engaged to another man.
He leaned back and watched her out of the corner of his eye. Was she broken up about Brendan’s death? Sheseemed smart enough to be worried about marrying a man whom she didn’t know, but he might have mistaken nerves for grief. It was hard to say. Teague accepted the beer Aiden handed him and took a long drink. A cigarette and a kiss weren’t enough to get a good read on a person. A part of him would like to chalk the whole thing up to her being overcome with desire, but he knew better. She hadn’t wanted to answer the question about her bruises, so she’d made a move on him.
Was the abuser a boyfriend? He doubted she’d chosen this path any more than he had, so it was entirely possible. Teague took another sip of his beer, waiting for the irrational jealousy to ease. Though he doubted his father had been faithful at any point in his marriage, creating an extramarital arrangement hadn’t been something he’d really considered before he met her. Now? There was no fucking way.
Christ, he was a mess.
He jumped when the room broke into applause, and then Aiden elbowed him, jerking his chin to say Teague should be on his feet. Shit. He pushed out of his chair at the same time as Callista. Sheridan watched them both, but it was Seamus who roared, “Let’s see a kiss from the happy couple.”
Happy couple, his ass. His father was punishing him for dozing off during the speeches and, under the attention of far too many people, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do except obey. He passed Seamus, earning a painful shoulder clasp, and stopped in front of Callista. She looked a little pale, and he started to say… Fuck, he didn’t know. Something comforting.
But then she turned to the audience with a smile thatsomehow managed to convey happiness and nerves, like a princess playing to her subjects. She went onto her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. The near-innocent contact still sent a bolt of sheer lust through him, and it was everything he could do not to drag her back against his body when she leaned away.
Teague turned to go back to his seat, but his parents had moved down while he was distracted, leaving the seat open directly next to Callista. It figured. He sank into the chair and leaned closer to her. “You will tell me his name.”
