Page 2 of Heated Rivals
“I’m not going to hurt you.”I never would have let them hurt you. But the words wouldn’t come. He might have stood back and let her and Callista Sheridan escape that night, but he could have done more. He’d taken the path that resulted in the least risk to him, and something horrible could have happened to either of them as a result.
She laughed, a low, broken sound. “You know, considering our history, I find that hard to believe.”
What could he say? She was right. In her position, he would have done more violence than an elbow to the stomach. Hell, he would have drawn a gun and put an end to the threat once and for all. But things with them were different. She damn well knew that he didn’t want her hurt, abduction or no. “No one laid a hand on you.”
“No, you just threw me in a trunk, and then tied me to a bed and—” She shook her head, drawing his attention to her mass of dark hair. “I don’t know why I’m still standing here. Stay the hell away from me.”
This was it. She would walk away, and it was entirely likely that he’d never see her again. He’d never see his album again. The last link he had to his mother. It was a stupid sentiment, but he’d never been able to fully pack away the old photo album. To know it had been in her possession for the last four months… It left him feeling edgy and strangely vulnerable. He couldn’t tell anyone that she’d taken it without admitting what it meant to him, and that was handing a loaded gun to the O’Malleys. No fucking way was he going there.
That’s the reason you’re here, dipshit.You’re not fawning over some woman, no matter how hot she is. She took something from you and you want it back. “Where is it?”
She stopped, but she didn’t turn back. “Where is what?”
“Don’t play dumb, lovely. It doesn’t suit you.” He took a step closer, close enough to see the way her shoulders tightened, as if she could sense his proximity. “That album wasn’t yours to take.”
She gave him an icy look over her shoulder. “Even if I did take something—which I didn’t—I wouldn’t have kept it.”
She was bluffing. She had to be. He made himself hold perfectly still, all too aware that one wrong move would send her fleeing into the night. “Liar.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
It struck him that maybe shehadgotten rid of the album. She had no reason to keep it. It was nothing to her—less than nothing. He strove to keep his thoughts off his face, but from the curiosity flaring in her green eyes, he did a piss-poor job of it. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“That’s rich. You have nothing I want.”
Maybe not, but he wasn’t above playing dirty. Not in this. Not in anything anymore. James closed the distance between them in a single step and grasped her chin tightly enough that she couldn’t pull away. “Give back what you stole, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Well, lovely, then I’m going to have to take that as a sign that you still want me as much as you did four months ago. Which means you want to see me again—and again, and again.”
Her eyes went wide. “Are you seriouslyofferingnotto stalk me if I give back this thing I supposedly stole? What kind of deal is that? It’s bullshit.”
She wasn’t afraid anymore, which was a goddamn relief. Instead there was a spark of anger vibrating through her body, and she was eyeing him like she wouldn’t mind taking a chunk out of his hide. He preferred this Carrigan to the frightened one. As long as she was focusing on where she wanted to hurt him, she wasn’t thinking about the threat he potentially posed. “I said you and I have unfinished business, and I damn well meant it.”
“Wrong.” She snorted. “Finished business is the only kind we have—ancient history. For the last time, get your big paws off me.”
He released her for the second time. “I’m not bluffing.”
“Neither am I.” She turned around and walked away.
This time he let her go. He had no goddamn right to threaten her, but the thought of never seeing the album again—it sure as fuck wasn’t the thought of never seeingheragain—made him twitchy. It wasn’t a threat he’d have made six months ago, but he wasn’t the same man he’d been then. He’d given up trying to be better than the rest of the Hallorans. That same violence and aggression that ran through their blood ran through his, too.
No matter how much he hated it.
Things had gotten out of control after his older brother’s death four months ago. Even now, knowing what he did about the monster Brendan was, his absence was still a weight in James’s stomach. He didn’t choose his family, and half the time he didn’t like them, but they were all he had. The Halloran empire in Southie. All the death and unforgivable shit, and for what? A few square miles of land in the part of Boston no oneelse wanted?
He waited until he saw Carrigan climb into the back of a cab before he turned and headed for his car. He wasn’t quite thirty yet, and he was so goddamntired. It never ended. The power games, and the unforgivable acts, and the compromises on what he used to think of as his honor. There was nothing left of it anymore, and hell if that didn’t send a pang of loss through him.
Not for the first time, he wondered what his mother would think of the men her beloved sons had turned into. He couldn’t shake the belief that he was failing her. But she was dead and gone some fifteen years, and his old man was very much among the living. The only link James had to her was the album Carrigan had taken—a shrine to the man he might have been in different circumstances.
That man was dead and gone as surely as his mother was. In reality, he’d never stood a chance. His course in life was set the second he came into this world as a Halloran, and any chance he had to choose a different path had gone up in smoke with Brendan’s death.
Now it all fell to James. The responsibility of keeping the Halloran name from disappearing the same way other enemies of the Sheridans had. People still talked about what Colm Sheridan did to the MacNamaras, though the details were sketchy now, thirty years later. All anyone knew was that it was horrific enough that no one had challenged him since.
James couldn’t let that happen to his people. And they were his, whether he wanted the responsibility or not. The only other option was walking away and letting his idiot of a younger brother take over, which was as good as signing the death warrant of everyone who depended on the Hallorans to keep shit in check intheir territory.
Besides, where would he go? This was his life.
