I pressed my lips together. Turning away from him, I walked to the kitchen, pulling my sash tighter around my waist. I moved to the coffeemaker, giving my hands something to do.
“Caity,” he growled.
“That is none of your business. Brian is my family. If I want to have dinner with family, it’s no concern of yours.”
“How often do you meet him for dinner? How often does he show up in town without telling Sal?”
“I really couldn’t answer that. I’m not his secretary, nor am I Sal’s. I don’t keep track of either man’s schedule because it is none of my business.” I looked over my shoulder at him. “Maybe that’s something you need to learn.”
The sound that rumbled from the man I’d loved my whole life had an effect on me that I wasn’t willing to put into words. Not even in my own fucking head. I squeezed my thighs together to ease the throbbing between my legs, thankful for the long robe that hid my movements.
“Caity.” I heard the pleading in his voice, and I closed my eyes against the desire to walk into his arms. Let him hold me, let him love me.
“You need to go.”
“I have to tell Sal.” His voice was a whisper, a breath from my ear.
“Do what you have to do,” I countered, feigning indifference.
“Why do you hate me, Caity? What did I do?”
His hands went to my hips, and he held me in place, moving in close, crowding me against the counter. His chest felt warm against my back, and it took every bit of strength I had notto lean back against him. He wasn’t mine. He never would be because I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve happiness when my daughter was miserable.
“I don’t hate you, Cian. But you’re a reminder every day of how I fucked up my daughter’s life.”
“Caity,” he breathed.
My body stiffened, giving strength to my resolve. I slipped away from him and walked down the hallway to the stairs. “You need to go.”
Without another word, I walked up the stairs and slammed my bedroom door. I sat on the bed and waited until I heard the door downstairs close. Only then did I let myself feel. Let myself hurt.
My entire life I was Eamon O’Malley’s daughter. Braesal O’Malley’s little sister. I was expected to always be strong. To always hold myself higher than the others. I was expected to keep my emotions under control.
Never let anyone see my weakness. My father used to tell me that weakness was the difference between the leaders and the followers. As an O’Malley, I was expected to be a leader.
He used to tell me that I might not have a dick, but I was still expected to live the O’Malley way. Anything less than perfection was unacceptable. Feelings were for the workers. The soldiers. A whiny woman wasn’t a woman worth having.
So I kept it all inside. I was ice cold in front of others. It was the only way to survive this life. Even now, twenty-plus years later, I could hear my father’s voice.
“Friends are a weakness. There is only one seat at the top, Caitlin. And it will always hold an O’Malley.”
I hadn’t realized at the time that it would never hold me or my children. Even if I’d had a boy, he wouldn’t have been an O’Malley. When I mentioned that Brian’s last name was Buchannon, he slapped me across the face for my insolence.
Still, I forgave him.
I’d never told anyone what had happened. Not my mother, not Sal. Not even the priest. It was my shame to carry. I had been insolent. I’d known what I was doing by bringing up Brian. I knew it was a sore spot with my father.
My grandfather, Casper O’Malley, had been the head of the IRA. He’d banished my father to the States when he was in his thirties after one too many scandals. Casper had bypassed his only son and passed on the IRA to his son-in-law, Sean Buchannon, who had passed it down to his oldest son, Brian.
Sal didn’t care that Brian was over him. The two of them bickered at each other as though they hated each other, but I knew the truth. Sal and I had both been raised here in Boston; it was our home.
Sal loved his position as head of the family here. He wasn’t just the head of Boston, but of New York, New Orleans, and Chicago. That was enough for Sal. He’d said on more than one occasion he was happy to let Brian deal with the international shit. He had enough to worry about here.
I wasn’t sure if he realized how different he was from our father. Sal had a heart. It might be cold, but it wasn’t dead. There was still a small piece of him in there that did the right thing when it was needed.
Like taking out my son-of-a-bitch husband. He may have been stealing from the family. Lord knows, he betrayed Sal on more than one occasion.
But Maddie was the real reason Nolan was dead, because to Sal, family was everything.
