Page 80 of Toxic

My initial thought is to deny Jeremy would do such things, but I'm not naive. The things I did or saw in high school should have made me see past his innocent, polite nature. I kick myself for not being more vigilant and letting my guard down.

Dad's ice-cold gaze cuts into Jeremy. He winces. It hits me he's scared of my father but must have underestimated the O'Malleys.

Dad snarls, "Are you stupid, son?"

Jeremy's face turns white. He swallows hard and clears his throat. "Sir, it was only one glass."

Declan's face turns almost purple. He shoves him out the door. Jeremy stumbles to stay on his feet. Declan warns, "Get the fuck out. Don't go near my niece ever again, or I'm coming for you. I guarantee you whatever fear you have of Tully will be grossly outmatched when I get my hands on you."

"Declan!" I reprimand, understanding he's pissed—hell, I'm pissed—but not wanting to deal with a lawsuit from his parents or some other drama. He's still a kid, and Declan's an O'Malley. They protect their own. And it may have been five years, but I know him well. He's on the edge of tearing Jeremy to shreds.

Declan surprises me, spins, and grabs my elbow. "Finn needs to see you. Now."

"Get your hands—" Dad starts to threaten him but is cut off.

He releases me and turns to Dad. "You're both fucking up. We had to convince Sean not to emancipate himself from you. This all stops now, and shit gets cleared up, or you're going to lose your children. It won't be our fault."

Horror fills me. I cover my mouth, feeling sick. I know Sean's mad at me but emancipation?

Declan motions to Angelo's study. "Now, Bridget."

I hesitate, still processing that my son hates me so much he would try to get himself emancipated from me.

Declan leans closer to me. "We're doing everything we can to stop Sean from cutting you off. Every word we speak to him is about not hating you. I suggest you face up to what you've done and deal with us instead of what he will eventually do if this doesn't get worked out."

I blink hard then close my eyes. Everything seems to spin, and my knees almost give out.

My father steps forward and puts his palm on my back. He quietly orders, "Bridget, go into the study."

I inhale sharply, square my shoulders, and hold my head high, faking confidence. I avoid Declan as well as Nolan and Killian in my peripheral vision. Dad leads me past them as my stomach dives so fast, I think I'm going to get sick.

We step into Angelo's study. Dad shuts the door. "Don’t let him get to you. I have your back."

I ignore him, staring at the wall, trying to pull my emotions together instead of lashing out at him. I'm now in this situation because of his promise to Killian. All I want to ask is how did he have my back when that deal was made?

Yet, I'm fully aware this entire problem is my fault. I'm the one who lied to the O'Malleys, told my kids they didn't want to see them, and created this pain we all now feel.

Dante's deep voice fills the air. "Bridget. Are you okay?"

I close my eyes, wanting him to wrap his arms around me and shield me from all that's to come. But it's pointless. There is no more hiding from the O'Malleys, so I stay frozen.

Like always, it's as if Dante has a sixth sense about my desires. He protectively puts his arm around me, pulling me into him. The scent of sandalwood and amber flare in my nostrils, helping to calm my insides a little bit. I sink into his warmth and safety, not able to resist it, even though my father is in the room.

He tilts my chin, forcing me to look at him. Worry fills his dark eyes. He says nothing, assessing me, which only makes my tears brew more.

"Sean wants to emancipate himself?" I barely get out.

"He's not," he sternly replies.

I shake my head, trying not to let the tears spill, but one drips down my cheek.

Dante wipes it. He leans down so only I can hear him. "I promise you he isn't doing anything of the sort. We'll talk later about it."

"I-I can't do this. I need to go," I state, attempting to turn.

Dante holds me to him. "You can't run, Bridge. All of them are outside the room, waiting to talk to you. It's time to deal with this."

No amount of breathing will help me. I wonder how I'll get through this without putting my children in even greater danger. The notion to come clean and divulge the entire truth appears, but I remind myself what's at stake. I don't even know how I would speak the horror of the night of Sean's murder or the days after. And if I did, my dad and the O'Malleys would be so driven by rage, they would surely tip off the Baileys and Rossis.

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