The Marriage Contract (19 page)

She nodded against his chest. “You want to remember him how he was in life, not how it ended.”

“Yes.” That was it. That broken, bloody body wasn’t his brother. Everything that made Devlin
Devlin
fled the moment he took his last breath.
Fuck, this never should have happened. I should have protected him, gotten him and the girls out of town and safe until I knew the danger had passed.
The wound in his chest pulsed in agony, the abyss opening wider. He’d been damn near cocky, sure that he’d find the identity of Brendan’s killer before something terrible happened.

The price he paid for being wrong was too high.

“I’d do anything for a time machine to take me back a week.”

“I know.” The quiet grief in her voice snapped him temporarily out of his spiral. Because she
did
know. She’d lost her brother less than a year ago. It hadn’t been in violence, but that really didn’t make a difference when someone so young was suddenly gone, taken too soon.

“Does this feeling ever go away?”

Callie shifted. “There will always be bad days, I think. Days where you wake up and forget that he’s gone, and then the realization hits and it’s every bit as bad as what you’re feeling now. But there will be good days. At first they’re so few and far between it’s like they don’t exist at all, but then one shows up and it’s this soft ray of sunshine in the midst of a hurricane. You barely notice it, and then it’s gone. And then, sometime not too long after that, another one shows up, and another, until the balance shifts and you have more sunshine than storm.”

The sheer amount of time he’d be forced to deal with this feeling was nearly overwhelming. Teague closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Devlin deserved it. He deserved to be mourned. Life couldn’t just go on as it had before, with only the slightest of hiccups. “He’ll never finish his degree. He’ll never get to backpack through Europe and have that great adventure he’d been dreaming of since he was a kid. He’ll never fall head over heels in love with a pretty girl and lose his heart. He’ll never have kids.”

She leaned back and framed his face with her hands. “I know there’s nothing I can do to make this right, Teague. I am so terribly sorry.”

There was a strange weight to her words. He looked into her blue eyes, trying to understand it. “This has to be answered, angel. You understand that?”

Her eyes shone in the low lamplight. “There’s nothing we can do to stop it now, is there?”

“No.” Part of him howled for blood to repay the loss of Devlin’s future. It didn’t matter that James used to be a friend. His brother was dead, and that demanded retribution. The other part of him? It just wanted this to end. Devlin’s death was horrible—he didn’t know if he’d ever fully recover—but if more of the people he cared about died?

If
Callie
died?

“Marry me.” He didn’t realize he was going to say the words until they hung in the air between them.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Marry me.” When she still looked uncertain, he plunged ahead. “I wanted to wait until this was over, and get a real fresh start with you that wasn’t tainted by this war brought on by our fathers and a situation outside our control.” Her expression flickered, but she didn’t say anything, so he kept going, “But it’s not going to end. There will always be the next conflict, or something showing up to drag us deeper, whether we want it or not. I care about you, angel, and I’d never forgive myself if I spent another day without us being husband and wife.”

Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again. “That was some proposal.”

“It was the best I could come up with on the fly.” He kissed her, soft and sweet. “Marry me, angel. Tonight.”

“There’s a three-day waiting period to get a marriage license.” She sounded uncertain, but not panicked.

“I know a judge.” He smoothed his thumbs over her cheekbones. “Say yes.”

She hesitated still. “This won’t bring Devlin back, Teague.”

The loss rose up, ready to swallow him whole. There was no fighting it, no resistance strong enough to keep it at bay, even in Callie’s presence. He took a shuddering breath. “I know. I wanted to marry you even before this happened. This just made me realize that I can’t take the future for granted. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow, not even for us.” He shifted her off his lap and went to one knee before her.

“Teague—”

“Marry me, angel. Today. Right now.” He took her hand. “Say yes and I’ll spend the rest of my days doing my damnedest to protect you from harm and make you happy. I’m not perfect and I’ll fuck up, but say yes and I’ll never hesitate to apologize, and I sure as hell won’t ever lay my hands on you in anger. Just
say yes
.”

She pressed her free hand to her mouth. “Yes.” At first, he was sure he’d misheard her. But then she nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re right. There are no guarantees but…I want your ring on my finger and you in my life for as long as we’re granted. Not because of your family or my family or consolidating power or any of the other reasons that originally drove us to agree to this marriage. I want you, Teague. I
choose
you. ”

J
ames stalked through his house, ignoring the way his conscience seemed to dog his heels. The time for regrets and second-guessing had passed. His fucking idiot of a brother had solidified that when he’d decided to prove his worth by killing one of the O’Malleys. There was no taking that back, even if James never would have given the order himself. It didn’t matter that he’d planned on using O’Malley’s oldest daughter as leverage to stop this shit in its tracks.

O’Malley’s oldest daughter.

Carrigan.

He turned the corner, picking up his pace when he heard male voices in the room he’d left her. Goddamn it, nothing was going right. He threw open the door, finding Ricky and two of his men circling Carrigan where she was cuffed to the chair. James didn’t like the look on their faces one fucking bit.

Ricky leaned in, close enough to touch. “I killed that piece-of-shit brother of yours. I shot him down in the street.”

Fuck.

She flipped her hair, hitting him in the face. “Liar.”

He jerked back. “Bitch, I’ll show you—”

“
Enough
.” All four of them froze, and James didn’t blame them. He barely recognized the growl as his own voice. It sounded like it’d come from someone else.

From
Brendan
.

Before that realization could really freak him the fuck out, he strode into the room. “You three, get out.”

Ricky leered, though he didn’t look nearly as confident as he had two minutes ago. It was all a song and dance for his boys—show no weakness—just like their old man taught them. But he was scared of James now. “I’m just giving the bitch what she deserves.”

Don’t call her that
. He clenched his teeth to keep the words internal. “Get. Out.”

Ricky hesitated, and finally laughed. “You want her first. I get that. But me and the boys want a turn when you’re done.”

What the hell had happened to his sweet little brother who needed protection? He didn’t recognize this man—this monster. But then, James barely recognized his own reflection in the mirror anymore. Brendan’s death had changed all of them for the worse.

It didn’t matter, though. Brother or not, the only way Ricky would lay a hand on Carrigan was over James’s cold, dead body. He waited, letting that truth seep over his little brother’s face. Ricky’s eyes went wide, and he practically scrambled out of the room.

The door shut, and James sighed. He’d pay for this later, just like he’d paid for taking the whip to his brother’s back. Maybe Ricky still would have gone after the O’Malleys personally…but maybe he wouldn’t have. He finally looked up to find Carrigan watching him. She didn’t look particularly afraid, which would be what he’d expect of a woman held captive by her enemies.

No, she looked furious.

“You have me here, so what’s the plan? A little torture, maybe with some rape thrown in for shits and giggles.” Her voice didn’t waver, and hell if he didn’t respect her for it. She must have been terrified out of her damn mind, but she wouldn’t show a single slice of weakness that could be used against her. It had to cost her to keep it hidden—he of all people knew the cost of keeping that kind of thing locked down.

“No.” He moved around behind her to check the cuffs. They were tight enough that she couldn’t squeeze out, but they weren’t rubbing her wrists raw. He fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked them. He couldn’t leave her here, because he couldn’t afford to be here with her every second of the goddamn day, and it was glaringly obvious that he couldn’t trust her with anyone else. “Come on.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

He ignored her, hauling her to her feet by her upper arm. It felt wrong—so fucking wrong—to manhandle her when he couldn’t get those stolen moments at the club out of his mind. James shook his head, as if the motion could dislodge the feeling of her clenched tight around his cock.

It didn’t help.

He wanted her again, more than he’d wanted any woman he’d ever been with. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense, but even having his hand on the bare skin of her arm was enough to have his body roaring to life. Only ironclad control kept him from showing exactly how deeply she affected him.

She was the one woman he couldn’t have.

He marched up the stairs and threw open the door to his room. It was the only place in the house that he’d guarantee no one would fuck with when he wasn’t around, so it was a solid choice. But he couldn’t shake the almost primal satisfaction of seeing her surrounded by everything
his
.

Damn, he was losing it. He had to get his head on straight, because one fuck—even as mind-blowing as it’d been—didn’t change a thing. She was the daughter of the enemy, and he’d just kidnapped her. There was no possibility under the sun in which she didn’t hate him.

Carrigan walked farther into the room, and he couldn’t help noticing exactly how little that tiny excuse for a dress of hers covered. It barely touched the bottom of her ass, and that curve was enough to make what little blood was left in his brain course south.

“Stop staring at my ass.” She stopped next to his dresser, seemingly fascinated by the shit thrown across the top.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Does your daddy know you leave the house dressed like that?”

She snatched the lamp off the dresser and spun. James barely had time to register to move when she threw it at his head. He got his arm up just in time to take the blow but, fuck, that hurt. Carrigan wasn’t done, though. She snatched the heavy ashtray he used to keep change in and flung it at him. “My
daddy
is going to skin you alive when he finds out what you’ve done.” A boot hit him in the shoulder. “And I’m going to enjoy watching.”

That was enough of that shit. He caught the second boot and dropped it just as she grabbed the second heavy lamp on the opposite side of the dresser. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Or what?” She brandished it, moving a step closer. “You’re going to hurt me? Please. I know how this works,
James
. It’s going to happen anyway.”

He hated that she said his name with such venom, but he wasn’t about to become her whipping boy—deserved or not. “Drop it.”

“I don’t think I will.” She swung it at his head.

He caught her wrist and wrenched the lamp out of her hand. “Christ, just stop.”

“Just lie back and take it, and it’ll be over soon? Not fucking likely.” She fought harder, trying to break away, but he wasn’t about to let her get access to more shit to throw at him. James dragged her to the bed and tossed her onto it. He cuffed her hands to the headboard before she had a chance to hit him again.

It was only then that he registered exactly how terrified she was. He froze, taking in the little shudders working their way through her body and her too-wide green eyes. “Carrigan—”

“Just do it, okay? Just…get it over with.”

He jerked back. “I’m not doing shit.”

Her eyes were full of accusations and her anger practically crackled against his skin. “You have me here and helpless. You don’t have to play that role anymore.”

“I’m not playing a role.” Even if he felt like it more often than not in the last few days. “No one is touching you.” He’d fucking kill them if they did.

“Whatever you say.”

It bugged him that she didn’t believe him, like a piece of sandpaper beneath his skin, scratching away every time he breathed. “You’re safe here.”

She laughed in his face. “And you’re obviously delusional. I’m not safe.” There was something in her words, something that made him wonder if she was talking about this specific situation or in general.

There was nothing he could say to change her mind. Hell, he didn’t blame her for expecting the worst. He knew the reputation his father had for prisoners, especially when he wanted to prove a point. It didn’t matter their gender, either.

But he still found himself wanting to reassure her. “Carrigan.” He waited for her to meet his gaze. “You’re safe here. I swear it.”

She turned her face away. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, Halloran.”

Callie kept telling herself that it was time to come clean. Saying “I do” to Teague without his knowing about Brendan was selfishness of the highest order. There was no way he’d marry her if he knew the truth.

But she couldn’t make herself say the damning words.

She wanted everything she’d said before. She wanted Teague. He’d been with her every step of the way through this nightmare, even if he didn’t know the full story, and he’d proven time and time again that there was no better man in the world out there for her. She couldn’t let that go. She cared about him too much.

She wasn’t particularly proud of that realization.

She knew how she’d feel if the fault of Ronan’s death had been laid at the feet of anyone else. There was no forgiveness. Not for that. She might not have been out for blood, but she would have effectively cut the responsible party off from everything they cared about. She would have done her best to break them. She couldn’t expect Teague to react any differently, no matter how much her very heart cried out that she could trust him. She’d been responsible for his brother’s death. It didn’t matter if it was indirectly or not.

He opened the door for her, his dark eyes filled with things unsaid. “Are you ready?”

No
. She opened her mouth, ready to spit the damning words at his feet, but then he kissed her. Teague’s lips moved against hers as if she was his last bastion of hope in a world gone mad. She clung to him, trying to keep from losing herself. It was a lost cause. Her control always was when it came to this man. She would do truly unforgivable things to keep him at her side. She was proving that right now.

Selfish. Stubborn idiot. Coward
.

Teague rested his forehead against hers. “This is the only bright spot in the clusterfuck we’re currently neck deep in.”

Just like that, all her good intentions went up in smoke. She couldn’t walk away from this man, even if she wanted to. And she desperately didn’t want to. She’d deal with the fallout when she was forced to, and not a moment sooner. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Shall we?”

“Definitely. I’m not giving you a chance to get cold feet.” He took her hand as she slid out of the car and shut the door behind her. “The judge already signed the paperwork, so we’re good to go.”

They walked into the courthouse. Callie had been here a few times over the years, but it felt different now. She would be walking out the doors as a married woman. Trying to wrap her head around that fact just gave her a headache. So she didn’t think about it. There were far too many things she tried not to think about these days.

She occupied herself with filling out the paperwork, and then they were being ushered back to say their vows. The dim little room wasn’t anything like she imagined their families had wanted for them. There was no bouquet, no family, no elegant white dress. She wouldn’t dance with her new husband, staring up into his eyes and feeling her heart full nearly to bursting with love. It was strangely fitting.

Teague repeated his vows after the minister, his gaze never leaving hers. His thumb stroked soothing circles on her knuckles, as if he knew exactly where her mind had gone. He finished with, “Till death do us part.”

Now it was her turn. She spoke her vows through numb lips, unable to summon even the smallest reassuring smile for him. Marrying Teague was what she wanted, but the fear that worked its insidious way through her threatened to send her to her knees.
He will never forgive me
. Her last words came out as barely more than a rasp.

The minister moved on, his voice so monotone, he could have been reading from a phonebook. He did manage a smile as he pronounced them husband and wife, but it was a cynical one. He patted them on the shoulders. “Good luck.”

Callie blinked. That was…uplifting.

She let Teague tug her over to where Micah and Emma stood in the first row. Emma’s eyes were shining, but her son didn’t look any happier now than he had been when Callie first asked him to stand as one of the witnesses. He shook Teague’s hand, but his attention was solely on her. “Your father isn’t going to be happy.”

“I know.” But, as much as she didn’t want to hurt Papa, she refused to let anything stand in the way of their doing this today. Her father most certainly would have objected. She turned to Emma and took her hands. “Thank you for being here.”

“I can’t believe it. I knew you were all grown up but…” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Your mama would be proud of you, and your papa will be fine.”

Words tried to stick in her throat. She doubted her mother would be proud of any of the things she’d done, but marrying a man she cared about in the courthouse instead of having a fully Catholic wedding was the least of her sins. “Thank you, Emma.”

Teague’s arm settled around her waist. “We should go.”

She nodded. “Micah, we’re going to Teague’s apartment.” He’d proven his loyalty to her time and time again. She wasn’t going to compromise it further by running off with her new husband and making Micah search for her.

He nodded once and then stood with his mother and watched them walk out of the room. She was half-sure she felt his gaze on the back of her neck even after the door closed between them, but it was most definitely her guilt talking. They made their way through the building and out into the light. She couldn’t breathe any better out here, despite the fact that there were no walls to close in around her. She pressed a hand to her chest.

Oh God, what have I done?

“Angel?”

She looked up, the tired happiness on his face grounding her further. This was why she’d agreed to marry him—she’d never met a man who made her feel so incredibly safe and wanted and cared for. No matter how twisted up inside she felt, she wasn’t simply going through the motions for the sake of their respective families. She wanted Teague as her husband. She just flat-out wanted him.

That was it. The one thing guaranteed to quiet her mind and silence her worries. She
chose
him. It made all the difference in the world. She stopped next to his car. “Take me home, Teague.”