But I can feel him behind me, haunting me.
And I carry the weight of that awareness on my shoulders, my neck, my spine—all the way down the seemingly endless hallway, out of his house, and back into the car, where none of us says a word the entire way home.
***
I come back to myself as Father navigates the car up the driveway to our house. The impotence burning inside my stomach like acid makes me want to scream and then vomit profusely. Preferably all over O’Connor’s lap. Or my father’s, I’m not choosy. If he weren’t such an irresponsible jerk, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. How the hell he got caught up with a man like Aiden O’Connor, I’ll never know, but I’m not surprised.
My hands tremble with the effort to hold back my anger, and I take deep breaths to calm myself the entire way through the house. We follow him without question, knowing he’ll want to debrief and denying him would only make it worse. Giving in to my emotions will help nothing. I need to figure a way out of this before everything falls apart. One positive personality trait Iinherited from my father is my ability to think or charm myself out of any situation.
A clutch of nerves writhes in my stomach, agitated by the silent stillness pressing down around me. I press a hand to it, but it’s useless, and the gnawing ache persists. Elizabeth prefers to handle confrontation and anxiety with glib comments and monotone whatevers. But me? I thrive on it. I use it to fuel my antagonism, which is usually to my detriment.
That’s why, when Father closes his study door behind us and rounds on me, his open palm connecting with my cheek in a blinding blow that turns everything white, I’m able to swallow down my resulting cry of outrage. Hot, stinging tears fill my vision until their figures are blurs and shadows. A sharp heat spreads from the point of contact, and blood fills my mouth where my teeth have bitten into my cheek.
“I told you to keep your fucking mouth shut if you knew what was good for you. Is it really so hard, or are you just that fucking stupid?”
Elizabeth makes a sound of protest in the back of her throat, and our dad wheels around on her, a snarl on his face. Although my cheek stings with a searing pain and my vision is hazy with violence, I shove myself between them. I haven’t done this in longer than I can remember, but my feet moved without thought.
I hold my shaking hands up. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything. Trust me, O’Connor made that very clear. I’m sorry. I was worried about Elizabeth. It wasn’t her fault. Please. It won’t happen again.”
He’s breathing so hard, I’m afraid he may pop a lung. “The next time you do something I explicitly told you not to do will be the last. I don’t care the lengths I’ll have to go. And if I catch even a hint that you’re going to sabotage this deal, I’ll make your life hell. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes,” I say, wincing internally at the desperation in my voice. I don’t cover it up because I know he enjoys seeing us beaten down, and it’ll mollify him, at least a little bit. “Yes, I understand. I won’t interfere again.”
Father scoffs, his bulk deflating as the weight of the night seems to press down on him. He glances at the globe near his desk, split in half to reveal a minibar inside. In less than a minute, he’s gulping down a shot of whiskey straight. Then another. Elizabeth inches toward the exit. The more alcohol he gets in his system, the more vicious he’ll be. She may be his favorite, but it’s not always enough to protect her.
After his third, he slams the shot glass down onto his desk, wiping his glistening mouth with the back of his hand. She’s almost out of the door when his head whips up, and he sees her attempted escape. I move to block his progress, but I’m still partially blind from the stinging slap to my eye and misjudge the distance, allowing him to evade me.
“Where in the hell do you think you’re going?” He jerks her away from the door with a rough hand on her arm. She glares at him, eyes as sharp as knives. His eyes are too glassy to notice. I’m frozen in place, eye stinging, heart pounding. “We’re not finished here.”
“You’re going to want to let go of my arm unless you want bruises in the wedding pictures,” Elizabeth warns. They share an indecipherable look as I debate whether to interfere.
Father sneers. “Don’t let your sister rub off on you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll ensure your marriage to O’Connor is happy, at least until he gets his money. Am I understood?”
Elizabeth stares pointedly at where his hand is wrapped around her arm. The silence stretches until he finally releases her with a petulant scoff. “Don’t worry. I won’t mess this up foryou. But if you touch me like that again, it’ll be the last time. You understand?”
He jerks his chin at her, and we practically sprint out of his study before he does worse. We don’t stop until we’re on the second floor, well away from his meaty fists and biting tongue.
As soon as the door closes behind us, Elizabeth leans against the wall with a sigh, expelling all the tension from the past several hours. If I could relax, I’d do the same, but my thoughts are racing. Making plans, rejecting them. Searching for a way out of this that doesn’t end up with someone getting hurt.
Before I can give her platitudes I don’t mean, Elizabeth’s voice breaks the silence. “There’s nothing you can do. We both know he’ll keep pushing until he gets what he wants.” I try to soothe her, but she’s so focused on getting her words out that she talks over my empty promises, pushing away from me to stalk from one end of her bedroom to the other.
“You don’t have to do this,” I murmur, but Elizabeth is too busy prowling to notice.
“Oh, please. We both know Father is going to get his way. The difference is I’ve learned to use his goals to my advantage. And you saw his place. The man must be successful. I could do worse.”
That’s where she’s wrong.
I’m not sure there’s much worse than Aiden O’Connor.
I press my fingers against my temple and join her in pacing back and forth across her room.
Elizabeth shakes her head at me. “Why do you always do this? I’m not a kid anymore, Cat. I have to figure these things out for myself at some point. Besides, if you try to interfere, Dad will lose his shit. Just drop it. It’s done. We always knew he’d do something like this someday. I’ll just have to make the best of it.”
If we were anyone else, I’d kneel at her feet and take her hands into mine. I’d promise her I’d do whatever it took toensure she could marry the man of her dreams. But that’s not us, so I keep my mouth shut, the words trapped in my throat behind all the rest I’ve never told her. “If that’s really what you want, then I’ll respect your wishes.”
If the words taste like a lie, it’s because they couldn’t be further from the truth.
CHAPTER 5
