The moment the door clicks closed, my father’s voice turns to ice. “What the hell was that?”
“What?” I ask, trying to play it cool, even as my heart beats loud in my ears, because now I’m going to be reminded why I was born in the first place.
“Don’t play stupid,” Uncle Liam snaps. “You ignored him. You acted like a goddamn child.”
I glance at my mother, who stands in silence, always does. Married into this world and drowned inside it. I don’t even think she knows how to fight anymore. Maybe she never did.
“I don’t want to marry a man barely younger than you,” I spit out.
Uncle Liam’s eyes darken. “You don’t want to?” He laughs, cruel and cold. “You think this is about what you want?”
My father steps closer. “This is about the family. You’re a daughter of the O’Brien bloodline. Your duty comes before desire.”
I clench my fists. “My duty? To obey? To smile? To spread my legs for a man who smells like death?”
Their silence echoes as my words hit hard. Uncle Liam can't control his rage and slaps me hard. I feel the blood trickling down my lip.
“That’s exactly it,” Uncle Liam shouts. “You’re a pawn, Aoife and if you’re not useful, you’re replaceable.”
Rage and nausea churn in my stomach. I want to scream, to tear the house down.
Conor walks back over to us, and stares at me for a moment. “Are we done here?” he asks, his tone clipped, unreadable.
Uncle Liam turns toward him. “Is she acting up? Are you keeping an eye on her?”
I laugh, low and bitter. “He can’t even enjoy school without babysitting me.”
Conor’s face doesn’t change. “Yeah. I’m watching. There’s a boy sniffing around,” he adds.
My breath catches in my throat.
No. No. Please, don’t say his name.
“You know who?” Uncle Liam asks, voice dropping like a blade.
“Not yet,” Conor lies. It takes me by surprise that he’s done it, but still relief and terror twists together inside me.
Uncle Liam turns back to me. “Aoife.” I look up just as his hand wraps around my arm like a vise. “Don’t bring shame to this family,” he growls, nose inches from mine.
“You’re hurting me,” I whisper.
“You think this is pain?” he snarls. “I’ll show you pain if you ruin this.” Then he slaps me for the second time. Sharp. Stinging. Then again, harder. He’s making sure I understand.
I stumble, pain bursting across my face. My lip tears, my head snaps sideways.
“Enough!” Conor snaps, stepping in front of me. “She’s got the message.”
Not a defense. A warning.
Uncle Liam fixes his collar, adjusted his cuffs, and gives me a look colder than any winter.
“That’s just a taste of what you’ll get,” my father says, “If you cross this family.”
Then they both leave.
Conor doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak, just stares at me.
And I can’t stop thinking, if they knew the truth?
