Page 23 of Dark Succession
A reprieve, he’d called it, and he’d been right.
She wanted another reprieve.
Desperately.
She dried off and reached for her phone, not bothering to dress yet. His number was already programmed in as a contact and she pushed the button to call him. The phone rang and rang, and she was on the verge of hanging up when he answered, out of breath as if he’d been running. “Callie?”
“I want to see you.” Touch him, kiss him, cling to him until the ugly realities of her life faded into the background.
He paused and, when he spoke again, he was more composed. “What are you doing tonight? I have an apartment up near Boston University where we can talk without having to worry about… things.” He meant eavesdropping ears—or maybe he meant that they weren’t in danger of a drive-by there. She shuddered at the thought.
“That sounds wonderful. What time?” The sooner the better. She couldn’t imagine Papa protesting to her leaving the house to see her fiancé. If worse came to worst, she could always tell him it was part of the wedding planning.
“I have some information I’m trying to run down at the moment, but I can be there at seven.” He laughed. “It would also give me the opportunity to pick up some food. The only thing in the fridge is beer and a bottle of ketchup.”
“The important food groups.” It didn’t sound like he spent much time there, but maybe he didn’t cook. When it came to Teague, she had more questions than answers. She knew he could drive her out of her mind with a touch, but she had no idea what his relationship with his many siblings was, or what he would have chosen to do with his life if he weren’t an O’Malley.
A part of her, simple and selfish, wasn’t sure she even wanted to know. He made her feel good, and that was enough for now. The more they talked, the greater the chance was that she’d find something completely unforgivable—and vice versa. What if he thought her goals to bring the Sheridans onto the legal side of business were laughable? The idea turned her stomach. No, it was better that they kept things physical, where at least they knew they matched up.
“Callie?”
She blinked. From the tone of his voice, he’d said her name more than once. “I’m sorry, I missed that last part.”
“I could tell. I asked you what you wanted for dinner.”
Her answer sprang from her lips before she had a chance to call it back. “You.”
Teague moved through the market, Callie’s last word ringing in his ears the same way it had been all afternoon.You. There was no mistaking her meaning, and he still hadn’t decided what he was going to do about it. His first instinct was to take her up on the implied offer. But then common sense was quick to jump in and say that rushing things with the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with wasn’t building the foundation in the most effective way possible. Sex was all well and good, but he wanted this shit between them to be about more than that.
He had to talk to her, to figure out where she was coming from. If she thought she could use her body to manipulate him… well, part of him was more than happy to go along with it. He wanted her like he hadn’t wanted another woman in living memory, and it was more than her tight body and the sweet sounds she made when she came. She was strong in an understated way that he was drawn to despite himself, and there were still the bruises on her throat to consider. He was nowhere close to willing to walk away from finding out who had laid a hand on her.
He paid for the groceries and walked back to his apartment, keeping an eye on his surroundings. This neighborhood wasn’t anything like some of the ones he was forced to frequent on family business, but danger could reach out and touch him anywhere in Boston. It paid to be aware of his surroundings. It was only because he was watching that he saw Callie walk up. She frowned, looking around as if she wasn’t sure she was in the right place. “Hey, angel.”
She jumped. “I didn’t see you there.”
“That’s less my being stealthy than your being distracted.” He nodded at the doorway behind her. “This is me.” As he led her up the narrow stairs to his door, hewondered what she’d think of the place. It was a far cry from the opulence of his family home—or the Sheridan residence. He’d never gotten close to either the Sheridan home or the Halloran one, but he knew enough to know both buildings were as large as the O’Malley residence, and surrounded by a similar-sized property. Compared to his little apartment, they might as well be on the moon.
But she smiled as she stepped inside. He set the groceries on the counter of the kitchen and put them away while she wandered around, pausing in front of the bookshelf filled with movies and video games. She picked up the photo on the top of it, and he didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know it was the one of him and his six siblings that his mother had insisted upon a few years ago. She spoke without looking up. “You all look so happy.”
It was one of the rare moments when they had been. It was in the time firmly plantedbefore. Before Carrigan started shrinking under the pressure of a future she didn’t want. Before the shadows appeared in Sloan’s eyes and she stopped talking almost completely. Before Cillian’s attitude got so out of control that he was damn near unbearable.
Before Aiden turned into Seamus O’Malley 2.0.
He pushed the beer aside and set the various vegetables in the fridge. “We were.” Past tense. Always past tense.
“Sometimes I wish…” She set the picture back onto the bookshelf and squared her shoulders, seeming to force herself to finish the thought. “Sometimes I wish I had more siblings. Ronan and I weren’t as close in recent years as we were growing up, but his loss was still earthshattering.”
And now she was alone. He shut the fridge and tried to picture life without his siblings. Over the years he’d loved them and damn near hated them to varying degrees, but he’d always had the comfort of their beingthere. He couldn’t imagine how deep the loss would go if something ever happened to any of them.
Yet another reason to put a stop to this war.
“I’m sorry about your brother.” He crossed over to her and did what he’d wanted to do ever since he saw her standing there on the sidewalk. He pulled her into his arms, something settling in his chest as he rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Sometimes I’m soangryat him. How could he be so stupid to drink and drive when we have half a dozen men ready and waiting to take us where we need to go if the situation calls for it?” A shudder worked its way through her body. “That makes me sound like a horrible person, doesn’t it?”
“No.” He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Death is bad enough when it’s unavoidable. It’s hard not to resent someone for bringing it to your door.”
“Yeah.” She sounded strange, choked up and rigid, but he kept holding her until she relaxed against him. “I’m sorry. It’s been a trying few days.”
