Page 40 of The Thief
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I? Your father's been dead eighteen months. In that time, we've lost a dozen good men to Trace Harrington's war. Might have been different if Killian had been here, focused on family business instead of divided between two lives."
"That's not my fault."
"Isn't it? You're here now because Trace is targeting Henry's family. Because he knows killing Killian's daughter would break the old man's heart. Your very existence makes this family vulnerable."
The words cut deeper than they should. Because there's truth in them, logic I can't argue with. Maybe I am a weakness they can't afford.
Maybe everyone would be safer if I went back to Belfast.
"Then why did Henry bring me here?"
"Because he's a sentimental old man who loves his dead son. Because he sees Killian in your face and thinks that's enough."
"And you don't?"
"I think you're a pretty girl who's lived a soft life. I think when the bullets start flying, you'll break. And when you break, you'll take good men down with you."
We stare at each other in Henry's perfect garden, surrounded by wealth built on blood. Two people who understand each other perfectly and like each other not at all.
"Guess we'll find out," I say finally.
"Yes," Marcus agrees. "We will."
I'm sitting by Henry's pool, trying to process Marcus' words, when a new voice cuts through my brooding.
"You must be Alastríona."
I turn to see a man approaching, mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair and laugh lines around his eyes. He's tall, well-dressed but not flashy, with the kind of easy confidence that comes from being comfortable in your own skin.
"Denis," he says, extending his hand. "Your cousin."
His grip is firm, warm. His smile reaches his eyes, unlike Marcus' practiced expressions. For the first time since arriving, I feel like someone's actually happy to see me.
"Hi, Denis," I say, wary of the man in front of me.
He settles into the chair beside mine. "Mind if I join you? It's beautiful out here."
"Course not."
He's got Dad's eyes, I realize, the same blue, same intelligence, and same hint of mischief lurking underneath. It makes my chest tight with unexpected emotion.
"You look like him," Denis says, reading my thoughts. "Killian. Same stubborn jaw, same way of holding yourself like you're ready to fight the world."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Best thing about him. Well, that and his loyalty. Killian would have died for any of us, and we'd have done the same for him."
Would have. Past tense. Because Dad's gone and I'm here, trying to figure out where I fit in a family I never knew existed.
"Marcus thinks I'm going to get people killed."
Denis' expression darkens slightly. "Marcus thinks a lot of things. Most of them wrong."
"Is this one wrong?"
"You want an honest answer?"
