The Marriage Contract (20 page)

“With pleasure.” He held the door open for her and moved quickly around to slide into the driver’s seat. There was no need for words—especially when she didn’t trust herself not to say something she couldn’t take back the second she opened her mouth—but she slid her hand back into his.

The trip passed far too quickly and not quickly enough. There was so much left unsaid between them, even beyond her confession that she never quite managed to actually confess. He turned the car off. “It will be okay, angel.”

It was a false comfort, and they both knew it. She gripped his hand too tightly, but she couldn’t make herself loosen her hold on him. “I’m afraid.” Those words cost her, but she fought to get the rest out. “This isn’t over, Teague. I feel like it’s just getting started.”
All my fault
.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It wasn’t lost on her that he’d just lost a brother and
he
was comforting
her
. God, this was pathetic. She had to get herself together. She was better than this. She had to be. “It’s not just me that I’m worried about.”

“I know. We’ll put a stop to this. I promise.”

Words. They were just words. They shouldn’t have the ability to calm her when she knew that he had as little control over this situation as she did. No matter what happened tomorrow, they had tonight. It would be enough. It had to be. She tried for a smile, but it felt broken on her face. “Are you going to carry me over the threshold?”

“Of course.”

The trip up to his apartment door was a blur. Now that they were so close to being able to shut the door between themselves and the rest of the world, she moved more quickly, needing to surround herself with him. Teague swept her into his arms and opened the door in one smooth move. He kicked it shut as soon as they were through, leaving them bathed in the shadows of his apartment.

And then he just stood there, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him. “I’m going to be the best damn husband to you that I can be, angel. I can’t promise you much else with all the bullshit going on, but I can promise you that.”

He meant every word. Teague wouldn’t hesitate to put himself between her and the rest of the world. She fisted her hand in the front of his shirt, her heart beating too hard.
I love this man
. As if just waiting for her mind to come to terms with the realization, the feeling swelled inside her, filling her completely, making it hard to breathe.

I love him
.

She couldn’t say the words aloud. Not yet. But she could show him.

So she kissed him, slipping her tongue between his lips the second he opened for her. He didn’t miss a step on his way to the bedroom, until he stopped next to the bed and let her body slide against his as he set her on her feet. He tangled his hands in her hair and tipped her head back, taking control of the kiss, gentling it to the barest brushing of their lips, as if he fully intended to take his time.

As if she was priceless.

She shivered. She wasn’t priceless. She wasn’t…He nipped her bottom lip, effectively bringing her back to the present. “Stay with me, angel.”

“Always.” A promise she couldn’t make, but this was the day for them. She unbuttoned his shirt, going slowly, relishing the way his chest felt beneath her fingers. The bruises looked better today. He was healing. He’d be okay. Thank God. All too soon she was at the waistband of his slacks.

His hands caught hers. “Not yet.”

She didn’t get a chance to argue, because he bent to unzip the side of her dress and then pulled it off, leaving her in only a pair of white panties. Teague’s breath hissed out. “A month or a hundred years, I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this.” He traced a finger down her sternum, the look in his eyes stealing her breath. “Angel, I don’t deserve you.”

It was
she
who didn’t deserve
him
. She opened her mouth to tell him as much, but he hooked his finger in the top of her panties and towed her to close that last inch between them. The feeling of her skin against his chased every thought from her head. She let herself run her hands up his chest, marveling at the muscles that tensed beneath her touch. She stopped at the tattoo over his left pectoral, a twisting oak whose roots worked down his side and whose branches covered his shoulder. “Will you tell me about this one?”

“I’ll tell you about anything you want.” He kissed her again, backing her to the bed and gently laying her on the mattress. “After.” He moved down her body, stopping to pepper her breasts with almost worshipful attention. She dug her fingers into his hair, simultaneously wanting him to do more and never move, all at the same time. He sucked her left nipple into his mouth, raking it gently with his teeth.

“Oh God.”

He chuckled against her skin, and her entire body went tight as he pulled her panties off and settled between her thighs. “Do you know how much time I spend thinking about doing this to you?”

“Tell me,” the command escaped before she could think better of it, but she was so happy it did the second he started talking.

“You
consume
me, angel. It’s the most welcome kind of distraction, but I can’t get through an hour without thinking about you. Thinking about this.” He dragged his tongue over her center, circling her clit.

She thought about it, too. But more than the sex, she thought about
Teague
. Callie closed her eyes and gave herself over the feeling of his tongue driving her closer and closer to orgasm. In this moment, she didn’t have to make decisions about the future. She didn’t have to contend with the riot of feelings in her chest, all centering on this man. She didn’t have to do anything but
feel
.

With one last long lick, he drew back, a smile spreading over his face at her involuntary sound of protest. “Impatient.”

“Tease.” She watched him unbutton his pants and shove them off. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand and rolled it on, his gaze on hers. She shifted, her skin too tight, her body feeling like it was a thousand degrees. “Come here.”

“With pleasure.” His weight between her thighs was almost comforting. Or it would have been if she wasn’t so desperate to get him inside her. Teague didn’t seem in any sort of hurry, though. He kissed her as if he had all night, as if he didn’t have an inferno of desire inside himself demanding more.

Callie hooked her leg around his waist, angling her hips so his cock notched in her entrance. He pulled back a little, giving her a look, but she needed him too desperately to keep playing this teasing game. Another time, perhaps, when it didn’t feel like they were living on borrowed time that could be stolen from them without warning. “Please, Teague. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He pushed into her in one smooth move, bringing them as close as two people could possibly be, stealing her breath and her heart along with it. “Anything for you, angel.” He moved, drawing out almost completely and then starting that slow slide back to completion. All the while, he cupped the back of her neck, and slid his other arm beneath the small of her back, bringing them impossibly close. Every stroke brought her closer to the edge, rubbing against her clit even as he filled her in the most perfect way possible.

She clung to him, wanting to draw this out forever. But her body wasn’t listening. Her orgasm crested, and it was all she could do to ride it out in his arms. He kept moving, drawing out the feeling until she was sure she couldn’t take it any longer.

Then, and only then, did his strokes become staggered and he followed her over the edge, burying his face in her neck as he came. He slid to the side and tucked her against him. “I’ll never get tired of that, either.”

Against all reason, a laugh escaped. “I’d say that’s a good sign since you just married me.” It wasn’t real yet, probably wouldn’t be for some time, but she liked the way the words sounded. She liked the idea of Teague as her husband even more. She lay with her head on his shoulder and listened to his heartbeat as their bodies cooled. “Will you tell me now?”

He glanced at her. “The tattoos? Sure.”

She shifted off him so she could see the tree in its entirety. She’d seen it before, of course, but it was different now. Now there was time to truly
see
it. She traced the twisted branches that tangled from the trunk and over his shoulder. “Oak?”

“Good eye. It’s family. Strong and rooted deeply.”

That sounded sweet, but she stopped on the scar bisecting the tree. “And this? Did this come before or after the tattoo?”

He hesitated, and she once again wondered if it was his father that had hurt him. From everything she’d learned of Seamus O’Malley in recent weeks, she didn’t doubt he was capable of it. But…to raise a hand to his son? Let alone what must have been a blade? It took a special kind of monster to deal out that kind of violence. She curled her hands into fists, trying to quell the sudden anger coursing through her system. You don’t hurt the helpless and innocent. You just don’t. For someone who supposedly held family above all things to do it…She wanted to hurt that man. She wanted to hurt him badly. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I want to.” He covered her hand with his own. “My father isn’t a good man. He didn’t like the fact that I mouthed off to him when I was thirteen, so he decided the best way to deal with my attitude was this.” A shadow passed over his face. “It was just one cut, and not a deep one at that, but I never forgot. That’s the other side of family. It can be strong enough to stand in the face of any enemy that arises, or it can be the rot that eats away at your insides, weakening you until you’re little more than a shell. Both tattoo and scar are reminders of that.”

Oh, Teague
. She kissed the scar, because there was nothing else to do. If a time machine existed to allow her to save him from the hurts he’d experienced at the hands of the man whose one purpose in life should have been to protect him, she would have taken it in a heartbeat. But it didn’t.

There was nothing she could change but the future, and even that wasn’t a sure thing.

“The ones on my knuckles are my siblings.” He waited for her to look up before he pointed to each in turn. “Aiden, Carrigan, me, Cillian, Sloan, Devlin, Keira.”

Her gaze landed on the one representing him. A flame. She knew that specific flame. She’d seen it before. “Saint Jude?”

He grinned. “Yeah.”

Which meant the other symbols represented saints as well. She touched each in turn. It was such a different way to go about representing a family that he obviously had very conflicting feelings about. But he loved them. That couldn’t be any clearer. She stopped on his bare ring finger. “This one?”

“Well, angel, I left that one blank because I figured someday I might meet a woman I cared about enough to marry.” He rolled back on top of her, grinning. “That one’s yours.”

Mine
. She kissed him, the riot of emotions in her chest only getting worse. She loved him so much it hurt to breathe. He took the kiss deeper, his hands sliding over her skin in a way designed to make her lose her mind. As he slipped a finger inside her, she had one last thought before pleasure bore her away.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe things really will be okay.

T
he phone ringing brought Teague out of a delicious dream about being wrapped around Callie. He opened his eyes and smiled because the dream wasn’t far off from reality. She was curled up against his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He touched her hair, smoothing it back, marveling that she was his wife. It had been an impulsive move, but he didn’t regret it in the least.

The phone rang again, snapping him out of it. He reached blindly for the nightstand and answered without looking at the screen. “What?”

“Where the hell are you?”

Aiden. He almost snapped that it was none of his brother’s fucking business, but the panic in Aiden’s tone gave him pause. “My apartment. What’s going on?”

“Get your ass back here now. Carrigan’s gone.”

For one breathless moment, Teague thought he meant dead. Then the actual words penetrated through the fear. “Gone.”

“That fucking piece of shit Halloran has her.” Aiden paused, and when he spoke again, he sounded forcibly less panicked. “He said we have twenty-four hours to turn over Brendan Halloran’s murderer, or they’ll kill her like they killed Devlin.”

Teague sat up. His first instinct was to deny that James would go to those lengths, especially when he knew Teague was already looking for the woman who shot Brendan. But, as much as he wanted to like James, he couldn’t trust the man with his sister’s life. The years had a way of changing people. He hadn’t expected the Hallorans to gun down Devlin. He couldn’t afford to underestimate them again.

“I have some leads.” He slipped out of bed and yanked on his pants.

“What?”

“You might be totally okay with putting our family in jeopardy in a grab for power, but I’m not. I started looking into Brendan’s death as soon as I saw which way the wind was blowing.” He stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. “I know it’s a woman. She was dressed as a stripper, but none of the other girls in the club knew her.”

“That’s not enough.”

“No shit.” He closed his eyes. “Devlin…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Devlin managed to get his hands on security tapes from the gas station across from the back entrance. I haven’t had a chance to look at them—”

“Bring them. We’ll look at them together.”

Teague released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t wanted to touch those tapes. Not alone. They felt like his last link to Devlin. It was a stupid feeling. His brother’s life was about more than just computer work. But it was the last thing he’d done before he died. The wound was too new, too raw, for Teague to be able to poke at it without hurting.

But he could do it with Aiden.

“Okay.” Teague never thought he’d stand with his older brother after learning Aiden wanted this goddamn war. The time for finger-pointing and the blame game was over. They’d both lost a brother. It didn’t make what Aiden did right, but there was only one man who ordered that hit. Halloran. He might as well have pulled the trigger himself. It didn’t matter if it had been James or Victor or even that little shit Ricky. That hit wouldn’t have gone down if one of them hadn’t given the go-ahead.

“Aiden…” It was harder than it should have been to say what he needed to say. “This isn’t your fault. I know I said it was, but—”

“Teague.”

He stopped. “Yeah?”

“As much as I appreciate the thought, it’s not up to you to absolve me of this. It’s not something
anyone
can.” The guilt was so thick in Aiden’s voice, it was hard to make out his words. Teague wanted to comfort him. He wanted to say that it was bullshit and that Aiden couldn’t have known what would happen.

He didn’t.

Because his brother was right. Aiden had known the risks in putting Teague forward as a candidate to marry Callie, and he’d still gone ahead with the plan. Maybe their father had been the deciding factor, but Aiden had supported him. He bore the guilt for that. Hell, they all bore guilt over this. If Teague had been faster with the investigation, maybe he could have stopped them from killing Devlin. If Aiden hadn’t helped orchestrate an O’Malley-Sheridan alliance...If anyone had stopped to think that Victor Halloran might not take the insult lying down…If, if, if...

No one could go back in time and save Devlin, no matter how much they all wanted to.

But they could save Carrigan.

“I’ll be home in twenty.”

“Good.”

Teague hung up and turned to find Callie standing in the doorway on the bedroom, dressed in only his sheet. The concern on her face said she’d heard enough to be worried. “What’s going on?”

It was tempting to tell her that nothing was wrong and keep her from worrying, but she deserved to know. She was as much a part of this as he was. “Carrigan’s been taken by the Hallorans.”

She went pale. “Have they…?”

“She’s alive.” Aiden hadn’t said what kind of condition she was in, and Teague had been afraid to ask. He knew the reputation the Hallorans had as well as the next man. The thought of his sister in their hands…Fuck. He’d failed Devlin. He wouldn’t fail Carrigan. “I’m going to save her. I have to.”

Callie nodded. “Of course. If they haven’t…They must want something.”

“The identity of Brendan’s killer.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “They gave us twenty-four hours to do damn near the impossible.”

If anything, she got paler. “So if you find his killer, it will put a stop to this?”

“That’s what they claim. I don’t know if I believe them, but I’ll do whatever it takes to save Carrigan.”

She crossed to him and wrapped her arms around him. “She’ll be safe, Teague. I promise.”

They seemed to be making a whole hell of a lot of promises that neither one of them were capable of keeping. That didn’t stop him from hugging her close and kissing her forehead. “I’ve got to go.”

“I understand. Go. I’ll shower and call a cab.”

She started to step back, but he wasn’t ready to let go of her yet. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he walked away now, it would be the last time he ever saw her. Teague grimaced. All the bad shit that had happened lately was skewing his perspective. Callie would go back to the Sheridan residence, where she was as safe as she could be. He cupped her face. “Don’t make any stops along the way.”

Her smile was as bittersweet as the feeling taking up residence in his chest. “Go take care of your family, Teague. I’ll do what I have to.”

He kissed her. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Definitely.”

He walked back into the bedroom, threw on a shirt, and grabbed his keys. “Call me when you get home safely.”

“I will.”

There was something off in her tone. He hesitated, searching her face, but all he saw was a soul-dragging sadness that mirrored what he’d felt for the last twenty-four hours. A small voice warned that this was a mistake, that he should drive her home himself, but with the clock ticking down, he couldn’t afford the wasted time. No matter how much he wanted to. “Be safe.” He kissed her one last time and walked out the door.

Callie took her time dressing. She moved on autopilot as she called a cab and waited for it to arrive. All the while her thoughts circled in upon themselves. She kept coming back to one hard truth.

I am the
only
one who can save her
.

If she turned herself in, it would put a stop to everything. No one else in Teague’s family would be hurt. He’d never be put in a position where he had to choose between her and them. Callie climbed into the cab and closed her eyes as it lurched into motion. It might kill her father to lose her. That was one of the many factors that had bought her silence on this. But Papa’s feelings weren’t enough to hold her back now. There were too many people at risk. What was one life when weighed against five? Or ten? Or twenty? Not enough.

Not even when it was hers.

“Ma’am?”

She opened her eyes to find the cabbie parked out in front of her house. She must be more out of it than she’d thought, because time wasn’t passing correctly. She paid him and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The air was clean and brisk and made her think of home. This was the house she’d grown up in. All her good memories were rooted here, and no small amount of bad ones, too.

And this was the last time she’d walk through the door.

It was tempting to get back in the cab and go straight to the Hallorans. Too tempting. She couldn’t do it, though. She’d been a coward this entire time. If she was going to step up, she was going to do it right. She would say her good-byes. She would face the firing squad wearing something other than the clothes she’d had on yesterday. And she would do it with her spine straight and head held high.

It took entirely too little time to shower and change, but she refused to linger in her room. If she stopped moving, she’d falter, and that was unacceptable. She made her way down to her father’s office, mentally preparing herself and going over what she’d say. She was so focused on the impending confrontation that it took longer than she’d like to admit to realize the room was empty.

There was no time to search for Papa.

She sighed and circled around the desk to write him a note. The pen was heavy in her hand, but she forced the words out. They weren’t the right ones, but there were no right words for this situation.

Papa, I am so terribly sorry. I was the one who killed Brendan Halloran. This war is my fault, and it has gone on far too long. I’m going to set things right. I love you, and I hope someday you can forgive me
.

There was more, so much more, but she made herself set the pen aside and walk to the door. She paused for one last glance at the room where there’d been so many father-daughter talks. Papa was strong. He’d survived Ronan’s death. He’d survive hers. She had to believe that.

Oh my God, I don’t want to do this.
She shoved the thought down deep, wishing she could do the same with the fear making each step harder to take than the last. Turning herself in didn’t mean a clean death. If it did, maybe it would be less terrifying. The Hallorans would make an example of her. She knew what that would entail, every excruciating detail of it.

Callie didn’t want to die. Not when she’d finally started to
live
.

She moved through the house, pausing to touch photos here and there. The one that caught and held her attention was one of her and Ronan, taken barely a month before he’d died. He had his arm around her shoulder and they were both grinning at the camera like fools. It had been one of the last carefree moments of her life. She touched it.
I’m
finally doing the right thing, Ronan. It might not be what you’d have chosen and it might have taken me far too long to get around to, but I’m going to make things right.

Her fingers itched to dial Teague, but what would she say? That this was all her fault and she’d spent all this time with him and never told him the single damning truth that might make him hate her? That she wasn’t the woman he thought she was? She didn’t know if she could stand to hear the caring leach out of his voice and be replaced by a cold stranger.

And if it didn’t happen?

If he somehow miraculously forgave her…

She’d be putting him in the position of having to choose between her safety and the safety of his entire family and everyone they protected. And no matter which way he chose, he’d bear the guilt for the rest of his life. She loved him. She couldn’t let him shoulder any more than he already did.

No, this decision was hers and hers alone.

She walked out the back door and made a beeline to the garage. She picked the vehicle closest to the door—the Escalade she’d driven for her date with Teague. It hurt to think back to how good that had been, to how uncertain she’d been of him. And now they were married. She touched the ring on her finger. Teague would be okay, too. He might care deeply about her, but he
loved
his family. He would survive. That was all that mattered.

As long as Callie did what it took.

She took a deep breath and drove out of the garage. It wasn’t a long drive into the Halloran territory, and she took the most direct route. The mix of old and new gave way to smaller and smaller homes, all sandwiched in together. She pulled up to the curb next to the pub where Teague had met James Halloran before. James was the best bet she had of the trade-off actually happening. Teague trusted his word—or at least he had before the drive-by shooting that took his brother’s life. Could she trust him?

What if it’s all for nothing? What if they don’t let Carrigan go? What if I turn myself in and it makes things worse?

If she was going to sacrifice herself, it couldn’t be for nothing. She
refused
to let it be for nothing. Which meant she needed a contingency plan in place. She took a shuddering breath and went through her phone, looking for the information she’d saved there after she graduated from college and officially stepped into a leadership role within the family. As Papa had taught her, it paid to know her enemies, and not all of them were on the same side of the law as the Sheridans were.

But first she had to say her last good-bye.

Teague waited while Aiden got the footage going. It wasn’t the best quality, but it’d give them more than they’d had before. And at this point, he couldn’t afford to turn away from a potential lead. He leaned over, squinting at the computer screen. “Is there any way you can clear it up?”

Aiden shot him a look. “I’m not a computer expert.”

No, that had been Devlin. Grief poured through Teague. He gritted his teeth, trying to ride out the pain. Carrigan needed him to stay focused, no matter how hard it was. “Fast-forward to around one a.m. They found his body pretty quick, and I don’t get the feeling she stuck around.”

His phone rang as a woman stumbled out the back door. He answered without looking at the screen. “Now’s not a good time.”

“Teague…”

His attention sharpened. “Angel?” The woman on-screen lifted her head and, even though the video was grainy and she was in the distance, he
knew
that face. He knew every line of that body, barely covered by the skimpy dress. Teague shook his head. He had to be wrong. There was no fucking way
Callie
was the person who’d killed Brendan. He was so focused on trying to figure out who the woman really was, he forgot he was on the phone.