Page 41 of Faithless Vows

“Da—”

“I told you to listen, boy. Keep your gob closed.” The office goes dead silent.

“As for Alannah, she’s here. She’s safe. And she’s exactly where she belongs.” His voice turns colder. “You are not welcome here,” he continues. “Not you. Not your men. Not your son-in-law. And if by some miracle you set foot on Irish soil, I’ll know before your boots touch the ground.”

The line goes dead. Seamus stares at the phone, then mutters, “Fuck.”

My father clears his throat. “Jesus, Seamus. Your father’s gotten even scarier with age,” he says mildly.

I’m on my feet. “What the fuck was that?”

Seamus sets the handset back onto its cradle harder than necessary. “That was my father.”

“What am I missing here?” I demand. “He runs the work, not the country. Who cares what he says? We get over there, put her on a boat, bring her back—”

Before I can finish, Seamus is out of his chair and in front of me. “Ronin, you don’t understand the man we’ve pissed off.” His words come hard and deliberate. “My da doesn’t run a few protection rackets or move a handful of crews around the docks. When I say he runs the work, I mean all of it. My father is the District Commandant.” He jabs a finger into my chest and holds it there. “When Malachy O’Connell says you’re not welcome in Ireland, he’s not making a suggestion. He means Ireland’s closed to you. If you goanyway, no one will protect you. No one will interfere. And if you disappear, no one will come looking.”

I don’t have a fucking thing to say to that. I look down at the glass in my hand and realize it’s empty. I don’t remember finishing it.

Holy shit. I’d assumed Alannah’s grandfather couldn’t be that high up. If he were, Seamus wouldn’t have left. Wouldn’t have chosen Boston over following in his footsteps. Obviously, I was wrong.

Seamus pulls his finger from my chest and goes back to the desk. He grabs his glass, drains it in one hard swallow—then his arm snaps back.

The glass shatters against the wall. Crystal explodes. Whiskey sprays.

“Fuck!” Seamus roars.

He turns on me, eyes wild. “My da didn’t want us bringing Alannah to Boston,” he snaps. “He wanted her left at home—with him, with my mam, with her cousins. Safe.” He laughs once, sharp and bitter. “But your father and I—we had ideas. A match. You and Alannah. We thought you’d be a good fit. Thought it’d be smooth sailing. I was so fucking confident.” His voice rises with each word as he starts toward me. “And then you fucked it all up. If you’d just acted like a fucking man—”

My da moves just as fast, stepping in between us before Seamus can get any closer. Then Seamus’s eyes cut to Mick. He veers toward him and swings, catching him hard across the side of the head. “What the fuck were you thinking?” Seamus shouts. “You’re her brother, you little shit. What kind of brother does what you did?”

Mick staggers back, then straightens, fury lighting his face. “Oh, fuck this,” he snarls. “Now it’s my fault? I already spent the whole night sitting in that hall waiting for Alannah like I was the one who did something wrong.”

He steps forward, crowding Seamus. “He was my friend before you tied him to Alannah. Maybe he didn’t want to be stuck with her. Maybe he didn’t get a choice.”

Seamus swings at him again, but Mick jerks back out of reach. The fucker still doesn’t know when to shut his mouth. “What kind of fun was I supposed to have with my best mate playing happy fiancé?” Mick snaps. “It wasn’t real. The engagement wasn’t real. And the wedding sure as fuck didn’t make it real either—or else he”—he points at me—”wouldn’t have acted like a complete idiot and blown it all up over nothing.”

I don’t realize I’ve moved until I’m in Mick’s face. “It was real,” I bite out. “I cared about her. I said yes to the betrothal. I chose her. I proposed.” My voice cracks. I don’t care.

“I love your sister. I fucked up. Is that what you want to hear?”

He scoffs. “Love?”

“You fed me to Kathleen O’Malley on my stag night,” I shout. “I was supposed to get a cab home. I was drunk. You shoved me at her and said she’d drive me.” I laugh, harsh and ugly. “What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

“I let Danny get in my head,” I admit. “I thought I had to put Alannah in her place.” The words taste like ash.

I’m breathing hard, my eyes burning. “This whole thing is fucked.” It’s all I can manage.

The room goes quiet. No one argues. No one even looks at me.

My father clears his throat and jerks his chin toward the door. “I think we’re done here for today.”

Mick spits on the floor near my feet and stalks out without another word. Seamus follows, still laying into him as they disappear into the hall. My father hangs back, looking at me like there’s something he wants to say. He shakes his head instead, then follows them out and closes the door behind him.

Then it’s just me.

My office. My mess.