Page 275 of Mangled Memory
Liam faces him straight on, not cowering, his eyes never leaving Ci’s. “Could she think you’d be in on Dad’s shady shit?”
I’m tense watching their exchange. I swear breathing peanut butter would be less stressful.
Cian walks back and leans against the counter behind him, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping his chin. “Everything is above-board, Li.”
Liam shakes his head with some sadness. “Everythingyou’reinvolved in is above-board. Dad has some other stuff going and it’s… not.”
Cian looks up. “What can you tell me?”
“And protect you? Nothing yet.”
“Do I need protection?” Cian looks both ready to murder someone and vulnerable as a kid caught stealing.
Liam does that shake-nod thing again.
“What does that mean?” I interject.
“If you were ever considering going out on your own, now’s the time. If you’d rather lead Murphy Enterprises long-term, it’s time to step up and make some tough decisions.”
“Decisions like what exactly?”
“Like ousting the current CEO.”
Cian’s hands plant on the top of his head in defeat. “What the fuck, Li?”
Liam shrugs. “I need more time before I can say definitively.”
“But your advice is get out, take over, or get with the idea of doing something nefarious? Those aren’t viable choices.”
“They’re the ones you have.”
“Fuck.” My eldest brother drains his beer before staring at the ceiling. His Adam’s apple bobs like swallowing is no longer an automatic reflex. When his head comes back to level, he asks, “What would you do in my position?”
“Annihilate the motherfucker and put him out on his ass.”
“Of course you would.” I can’t help my snicker after that.
Liam shrugs; Cian looks stricken. I can assume that option is off the table since Cian and Liam operate from completely different motives. And unscrupulous or illegal isn’t Cian’s thing. He’s not gray. He’s the white hat type.
We stare at each other until Cian opens his fridge, pulls out two more beers, tilting one imploringly at me. I wave it off, andhe slides it to Liam who’s yet to finish his first. Cian cracks his and pulls deeply, draining it in one go. “Here’s to starting a business in an industry that’s overcrowded, in a market that will slice my throat, during a shit economy. Yay me.”
Liam simply lifts his bottle in a toast.
“You can do it, Ci. I have your back. And if you need venture capital?—”
“Stop right there. Love you, sis, but I’m not taking your money.”
“Oh, I wasn’t volunteering mine. I was volunteering Christian’s.”
Liam snorts.
Cian looks offended. “Ayla, we’re competitors. Why in the world would he fund me? Don’t answer that. I’d never accept.”
“You know, if you were to niche down into something specific, you wouldn’t be competitors at all. It would be advantageous, actually. It could be mutually beneficial. And you don’t have to leave today. You have time.” Turning to Liam, I ask, “He has time, right? How much?”
Liam shrugs again. “It doesn’t have to be today, but the sooner the better.”
“Clear as mud,” Cian says at the same time I offer, “Well that’s no help.”
