“If you don’t come home now, don’t bother,” Dad yelled.
Padraig looked like he was ready to puke everywhere, which was new, and my anger only grew the longer I stared at him on the verge of falling the fuck apart. I loved my brother even though he was a prick, and none of us deserved this.
“Ye telling Fallon not to come home?” Cillian asked, deadly quiet. Rowen sucked in a breath through his teeth, and Aspen dragged me closer, though that wasn’t really possible. “Well, then, ye don’t need to be darkening our doorstep right now, do ye?” Cillian lunged at Dad and grabbed his tie. Dad swung at him, and they scuffled, but Cillian easily hauled him toward the open door and shoved him out into the hallway while Padraig gaped and Grady’s eyes went huge.
We all rushed out into the hallway in time to see Dad land a punch to Cillian’s jaw, but Cillian was a beast in motion and didn’t stop, just jabbed Dad in the gut, doubling him over. I was horrified, but at least Cillian was holding back. So far. He had that glint in his eye he got when he was ready to kill someone, so I rushed over and grabbed his arm, dragging him away from Dad. He made himself stop struggling when he realized it was me, so maybe he’d been taking that whole conversation earlier more seriously than I’d realized.
“He’s not saying that shite to you,” Cillian said, and his eyes were too wide. “He’s not, I won’t allow it.”
My breath caught and I coughed for a second as I laughed, and Aspen came up to put himself between Cillian and Dad. Vail hugged my side again, and Rowen was behind us, glaring at Padraig and Grady at our backs.
“I don’t care if he does kick me out. I have a family, Cillian.” I stared into his eyes and couldn’t stop myself from glancing at Aspen. He kissed my forehead, and Vail hugged me tight.
Cillian nodded and his throat worked. He stared at the ceiling for a second. I was surprised, but not in a bad way, when he stepped forward and hugged me, and then the sound of feet rushing along the hallway had everyone whipping around to face that direction. Dad shuffled back to press his shoulders against the wall as one of the security teams that covered the mansion stopped near us. There were six guys, and while there were no guns out, all of them were big and appeared to be more annoyed than Cillian at the disruption.
“Mr. Maher, you need to go,” one of the men said. He was tall with a short dark buzz cut and square jaw. I didn’t know his name, but I’d seen him around. “It’s time to let tempers cool here. We have strict instructions not to allow fighting.” The guy seemed like he was holding back a lot of other things he wanted to say.
Padraig walked along beside us and still looked like he was ready to lose his dinner all over the floor. I grabbed his hand, and when he stopped I gave him a light hug.
“What are you doing?” he grumbled. He was stiff in my arms.
“I love you, fuckface.”
He snorted and stepped back, not really hugging me in return, but he smiled a little.
“I’m here, and Grady has your back.”
He whispered, “Please, keep things to yourself.”
Dad swore at something else the security man said lowly to him. “Last chance, Fallon!”
The security guys exchanged looks—they were ready to toss Dad out on his head.
“Please,” one of the security men said with a sigh. “The boss is in the mood to cut off important body parts tonight, we don’t want to interrupt him.”
Dad growled, and I thought maybe he did care about me, he just didn’t understand me at all. “Fuck. You were in the hospital.” He stared right at me.
“We’ve got him,” Cillian said.
“Anything happens to my boy and I’ll come for you.” Dad punched the air in Cillian’s direction, as if there was any doubt he wanted to hurt him.
“Ye do that,” Cillian said, flipping him off.
Dad huffed and turned to leave when the security men closed in around him, and Grady and Padraig followed, neither one looking as if they wanted to be associated with him. I felt like total and complete shit watching them go. Why did everything have to be this way? Why couldn’t we be a functional family? We never had been close, but when I was younger I thought we all loved one another. Why did Padraig have to kiss Dad’s ass and hide?
“This fuckin’ sucks,” I grumbled.
Cillian started after Dad, his hands curled into fists. He made it all the way to the split staircase before I caught up with him and grabbed his elbow. “Stop,” I wheezed out.
“Ye’re not putting up with that shite,” he hissed.
Rowen stopped near us and gasped for breath. “He’s not yer da.”
Cillian snorted. “They’re cut from the same cloth.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, sliding my hand down Cillian’s strong forearm to his wrist. He pulled me in for a hug that hurt a bit, but his grip on me softened when I patted his side.
“Don’t be. Ye’re not dealing with that shite as long as I have a chance to put a stop to it.” I melted inside when he pressed a kiss to my forehead.
