Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
MAEVE
T here was no throwing of confetti, no photographs—unless you counted Maureen and Ash taking pictures on their smartphones—and no cans tied to the trunk of Callum’s rental, declaring to the world we were ‘Just Married.’ But it was like Callum said—from now on, we were going to do things our own way.
Was it the wedding I’d dreamed of since I was a little girl?
No, it wasn’t.
But I loved it all the same, because the very moment Callum stopped the ceremony and roared at the guests to get out, warmth wrapped around me.
I prided myself on being a modern woman who was capable of changing the oil in my car along with the tires. I could even put Ikea furniture together relatively well. Still, the way Callum looked after me during my wedding ceremony made me feel safe.
Pulling my knees up, I snuggled into the passenger seat, noting how well my husband drove. A frisson of excitement went through me at those words floating through my head.
My husband.
My strong, protective, kind husband.
I turned to face him, admiring his beautiful hands and long fingers controlling the steering wheel with so much confidence it rolled off him in waves.
“You’re a good driver,” I blurted out.
Callum side-eyed me with a grin. “My dad taught me when I was fourteen. I like driving. It relaxes me. Nobody can beat Tadhg behind the wheel, though. He says he can feel everything, like the vehicle’s an extension of him.” He shrugged. “Though, I guess he should be good to last this long at competition level.”
“Fourteen seems young to drive,” I mused.
“I guess. Hambleton’s a little oasis of a town in a rural setting. All the boys learned to drive young. Still do. Some of my buds helped out on their family farms when they were just kids. They’ve operated tractors and heavy machinery since they were young. It’s a different way of life to the city, that’s for sure.”
“I hope I fit in,” I murmured without thinking.
“You’ll love it,” Callum assured me. “Aislynn will go back to her internship next week, and T needs to get back on the circuit, but Ma and Donny will be there. I’ll introduce you around. My buds are part of the local MC, so I’ll ask if their women will come over and welcome you to town.” His eyes flicked over me almost dismissively. “They’re good people who will accept you for who you are, Maeve. They won’t judge your quirks.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the words stuck in my throat.
What did he mean by quirks?
A strange feeling prickled through me, but I ignored it. Callum had been nothing but kind. I was probably overreacting after a fraught day.
“MC? As in motorcycle club?” I snorted. “I definitely won’t fit in with them. I’m hardly biker babe material.”
“No, you’re not, but then neither are they, though they’re hot enough to be.”
My stomach dropped, and I flinched at his words.
Definitely not an overreaction then.
“Kennedy’s the town lawyer,” he went on. “Sophie’s head of general surgery at the local hospital. Freya, the new president’s sister, is another doctor, but she’s at a different chapter in Virginia. Cara was a teacher; Layla’s like Mother fuckin’ Earth and keeps popping kids out. One of the retired members, Abe, is now the town’s mayor, and the ex-prez’s wife, Elise, runs a charity for victims of domestic violence. She even donated a safe house for women and kids escaping abusive relationships.”
“Wow,” I exclaimed, my mind still stuck on Callum’s blatant dig. “I’ve usually just got my head stuck in a book. It’s where I’m happiest.”
“That’s great, sweetheart,” Callum replied, his tone conveying quite the opposite, “but while you’ve got your head in a book, life’s passing you by, and it’s not helping you socially.”
“What do you mean?” I whispered.
“Living in the real world gives you the tools to deal with people.”
A heavy feeling tugged at me. “I don’t understand.”
Callum glanced at me, then back to the road. “You okay with me laying it out there?”
That didn’t sound good.
“Please do,” I invited, knowing he would anyway.
“Okay, it’s like this. You don’t deal well with people socially. Orla and those girls ran rings around you, whereas the women I’m used to would have nipped that shit in the bud immediately ‘cause they live in the real world, and they don’t got their heads constantly stuck in a book. You need to learn to deal with conflict.”
The heavy feeling turned into a ton of weight. My cheeks began to heat, much like back at the church, and I murmured, “Oh.”
“You’re a sweet girl,” he continued. “But you gotta learn to toughen up. Be more like Shannon.”
The words dug into my heart like a knife because all my life, I’d fought my ass off to be nothing like Shannon Doyle, the reason being that she was a nasty bitch.
“She’ll probably go a long way. She works what she’s got. It’s why she’ll suit the Bratva boss’s son. I know Shan’s got an evil streak, but in her world, it’s necessary. I don’t like it, but I understand it. In a way, I even admire it.”
“You want me to be more like Shannon?” I asked disbelievingly.
“When it comes to other people taking advantage, yeah,” he agreed. “I can’t be there all the time to protect you, like today. If somebody gives you shit, you gotta learn to give it back. You’re about to start a new life, sweetheart. Start as you mean to go on.”
A notion dawned on me, and I suddenly felt sick. “You think I’m weak?”
He shrugged, expertly maneuvering the car around a corner. “Not the word I’d have used, but, babe, you do have to toughen up and start fighting back.”
A chill skated over my skin.
Toughen up?
Was this asshole for real?
What gave him the right to judge me with his charmed life in Wyoming and loving, supportive family? He wouldn’t have lasted five minutes navigating the snake pit I’d grown up in.
How fucking dare he?
“When should I have done that, Callum?” I asked, my voice deceptively quiet. “When I was six, and I lost my parents within a few months of each other, and my entire world imploded. Or maybe the time when I was seven, and I made too much noise when Orla was on the phone, and she backhanded me so hard she split my lip open. It was the first time in my life anyone had hit me, though not the last, seeing as how your precious Shannon—you know, the one you want me to be like—took up from where her mom left off and slapped, pinched, and bit me so hard that I’ve got the scars. Or maybe when I threatened to tell Paddy, and Orla vowed to send me to a children’s home where the boys would sexually assault me.” I leaned toward him and screeched, “Is that what you mean by fighting back?”
His face blanked, and he rasped, “What?”
“I will never be like Shannon because she’s just like Orla, and I’ve worked too damned hard to be nothing like her . Erin’s okay—harmless, really, but she’s a sheep. None of them understand me, and that's okay; in fact, it’s everything because it means I did something right, and regardless of growing up around those women, I did what I set out to do as a six-year-old child and became nothing like them .”
The air in the car shifted. “She hurt you—” he began.
I cut him off with a humorless, brittle laugh. “Orla hated me. All she cared about was the surface and how things looked. Paddy took me in, and she lost her mind. Stepmother dearest went from having Liam and two perfect daughters to having a charity case thrown at her, one with the wrong hair and weird looks. I was a withdrawn kid who was heartbroken and grieving. I didn’t fit with her aesthetic. I still don’t and thank God for that. It shows I did everything right. I’m smart, and I listen and learn from everything I can. I’m kind and try to help people, and okay, so I might not wear the right clothes or have the right hair like your biker babes back in Wyoming, but I don’t care. I may be socially awkward, and you may think I’m a doormat—you may even be right—but I’m still better than those girls in every way possible. So, you see, I don’t need to fight back, Callum O’Shea, because I already won by not becoming them .”
To my surprise, the car stopped, and Callum turned off the engine.
Looking around, I saw we were already back at the house, though I hadn’t noticed because of my rant.
A warm hand enveloped mine, and I jumped slightly at its unexpectedness.
“I’m sorry she did that to you, Mae,” Callum murmured. “Does Paddy know? If not, he will in about ten point five seconds ‘cause I’ll storm in there and?—”
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “Liam saw it happen when I was nine and told Paddy. I don’t know what he said or did to her, but Orla never touched me again, but she made sure Shannon did. Luckily, by the time we turned thirteen, I became invisible, so even she left me alone after that.”
His stare drifted toward the house. “You never know what goes on behind closed doors.”
“No, you don’t,” I agreed, my eyes following his.
He paused briefly. “You know we need to have the conversation, right?” he asked, putting emphasis on ‘the’.
The heavy feeling tugged my belly again.
My eyes slid back to his face, and I joked, “I hoped we could put it off for at least a year or two.”
Ignoring my attempt at humor, he went on, “We haven’t talked about what you want from our marriage. You gotta admit, this shit’s not normal. We hardly know each other.”
Callum only pointed out what was glaringly obvious, but still, his words wounded.
The fact was, I’d assumed we’d have a normal marriage after we’d taken time to get to know each other and settled into our new life. I wanted a baby, though not immediately, and to reach the same milestones as other couples. Except, judging by Callum’s derisive words and less-than-stellar opinion of me, it was clear I’d been na?ve. And after all his kindness earlier that day, it cut me true and deep.
I swept a hand between us. “I thought we?—”
“Maeve,” he interrupted gently. “I’ll repeat. We don’t know each other. We’ve met a handful of times, and even then, we never really interacted. I’m glad we got married because you needed to get away from here, and I needed to get my mam off my back about settling down, but can you honestly say I’m your type?”
My lungs contracted, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe because the meaning of his words hit me square in the chest.
He really meant I wasn’t his type.
Fire burned the back of my throat.
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
“I like you. You’re a sweet girl, but we’re the worst-matched couple in existence. I don’t read; that’s all you do. I’m happiest pulling pints and shooting the shit with the boys; you’re socially awkward. The kind of women I’m usually into are the opposite of you. We can make this work for as long as we need to, then part ways. Eventually, I can give you the freedom to do what you want, and in the meantime, I’ll give you a separate room and full discretion. We do what we want with who we want but keep it on the down-low.”
Pain shot through me.
“You want to see other people,” I croaked, more of a statement than a question.
“Makes sense. It’s not like we’re in love. I’ve never fallen yet ‘cause I never even wanted to get serious with anyone. You’re the closest I’ve come.”
“So you married me to keep your mam off your back,” I whispered, another statement.
“You’re not the victim here, especially when you married me to get away from them.” He nodded toward the house.
I blinked up at him.
I mean, Callum wasn’t wrong, but there was also more to it for me than a way to escape. I wouldn’t have entertained the idea of marrying Callum if I didn’t see a future with him. After what he did for me that day and the way he had my back, I was secretly already half-smitten. I mean, he’d been incredible.
Until now.
Now, I just wanted to slap his beautiful face, because if he’d told me he wanted to see other people before the ceremony, I wouldn’t have gone through with it. I may not have been his type , but I had my pride, too. Now I was stuck in something I had no clue how to navigate; I mean, he’d told me in so many words he was going to cheat and gave me his blessing to do the same.
Who did that?
Eyes wide, I stared at him, hoping I’d misunderstood and he hadn’t actually meant those things. A part of me was waiting for him to tell me he was joking, but the long, awkward silence filling the car was so loud it almost deafened me.
My heart twisted painfully.
How the hell have I become a straight man’s beard?
Jesus Christ.
Callum unclipped his seat belt and threw the door open. “Glad we had the talk, babe. I was worried we weren’t on the same page. Gonna go organize your stuff and sort my shit with Paddy before we leave.” He made an ‘eek’ face. “Don’t think he was on board with me throwing everybody outta the wedding.”
Stunned into silence, I watched my husband unfold from the car and swagger inside the house, throwing the maid a flirty wink as she met him at the door.
A pang that felt a lot like jealousy tore through my chest, and I dug the heel of my palm into my eye, trying to stem the tears threatening to fall.
What the hell just happened?
Throwing my head back, I groaned to the heavens, “God. What have I done?”
Was this going to be my life now? Watching Callum flirt with everyone in a skirt? Would I lay in bed at night wondering where he was and who he was with?
Moments ago, my future shone so bright it was blinding. Now, it just seemed seedy and wrong.
I’d been married for one brief hour; what the actual fuck?
Furiously, I tried to strengthen the walls around my heart. Fuck Callum O’Shea. It wasn’t too late; I could still walk away. We hadn’t slept together, so I could get an annulment, especially when I explained to the judge how he’d duped me. My heart ached at the thought of losing the dream of Wyoming and of finally finding peace, but peace would never come to me while my husband was fucking other women.
It would be more like torture.
Still, I also knew I couldn’t stay in New York. My humiliation was complete, and I’d never hear the end of my one-day wedding and the fact my groom only married me to please his mother.
That decided it for me. Staying here was out of the question; it was time to stand on my own two feet and take control of my life. Screw Callum O’Shea. I was a smart, accomplished woman and an expert in my field, with a decent career and amazing contacts. It wasn’t like I had no options open to me. Just putting my name on a project gave it instant credibility, so why the hell was I fretting over him? Patrick was releasing me to my marriage, and when my so-called husband let me go, I’d finally be free.
If the bastard wanted a marriage in name only, that was exactly what he’d get.
Grabbing my cell from my bag, I fired off an email to the Heritage Society. They’d already contacted me about heading up a dig next year in England. If everything worked out, I could be away by the summer. In the meantime, a few months in Wyoming could be exactly what I needed.
I got out of the car, suddenly eager to get inside and organize my bags. I wanted to get on the plane so I could pick up my return emails as soon as we landed. Entering the house, my steps faltered as shouts filtered into the large reception from Patrick’s study down the hall.
Usually, my adoptive dad yelling at his wife would be anxiety-inducing because I knew she’d take it out on me, but at that moment, it didn’t faze me one bit. If anything, I was grateful for the opportunity to creep up to my room without getting waylaid.
Plus, she deserved it after what she did.
I just hoped he’d rip Shannon and Erin new assholes, too.
Silently, I moved up the stairs, my mouth curving at the fading shouts coming from the study. I hurried down the hall, my steps slowing as I suddenly picked up two other voices, except these ones were hushed and coming from my room.
“I can’t believe you haven’t told her about us,” Shannon hissed.
“There’s no us to tell her about,” Callum replied in a hushed tone. “It was one night. Hardly the love affair of the century.”
My smile froze, and an icy chill ran over my skin, making me shiver.
“I’m sure Maeve wouldn’t see it that way, Callum. Technically, your cock may not have been in my pussy, but you were more than happy to stick it in my mouth.”
My body flinched like I’d been struck. I raised my hand, pressing it against the wall to steady myself.
“Look,” Callum replied in a bored tone. “I was drunk. Jesus, I hardly remember. It wasn’t our finest moment.”
“No, and I’m sure Maeve would agree,” Shannon retorted cuttingly.
“It was way before Maeve,” he argued. “So don’t make out like I’ve done you wrong. You knew it was casual.”
“Yeah, I knew. I also should’ve known you were just like all the others,” Shannon bit out. “I can’t fucking stand Maeve, but even she doesn’t deserve to be married to an asshole like you, who keeps this from her.”
Bile rose through my stomach.
As much as I hated to admit it, she was right.
Callum barked a brittle laugh. “Don’t try and tell me you’re looking out for Maeve. You’re doing this to hurt her, no other reason. Call it what it is... spiteful.”
My lip curled.
Yep.
“I am,” she admitted. “But she shouldn’t be in the dark about this. The fact it will wreck your poor excuse of a marriage is a bonus.”
My heart jerked painfully.
Shannon had never pretended to like me, quite the opposite, in fact, but it wasn’t until then that I understood how deep her venom ran. It wrecked me because I’d never done anything to deserve it except merely exist.
“Jesus,” Callum breathed. “Who are you? What happened to make you so fucking vile? It’s funny because, ten minutes ago, I was telling Maeve to grow a backbone and be more like you. Now, I couldn’t think of anything worse. I got the message; I’ll tell Maeve about our one night where I was so drunk that whatever happened is just a damned blur. You win; I’ll tell her everything, but it won’t change anything, and you won’t wreck my marriage.”
No she won’t , I thought to myself. Because you’ve done that all by yourself.
The morning of the wedding, the ceremony itself, and the conversation afterward were all bad enough, but this cut deep. The dishonesty of it all made me ache.
If Callum had sat me down and given me a heads-up, I would’ve hated it, probably even hated him for a while, but I would’ve at least respected him. He had no way of knowing we’d get married when he got with Shannon.
But the fact he’d knowingly kept it from me was a shitty move.
Trust me for getting embroiled in a shitty marriage with a shitty husband. Life had been nothing but a disappointment, so it stood to reason the man who put a ring on my finger would turn out to be one too.
I was so deep inside my own head that I didn’t notice the conversation quieten. My door flew open, and Shannon all but bowled me over in her hurry to get out of there. I would’ve fallen to my ass if a strong hand hadn’t reached out and grabbed my waist.
“Maeve,” Shannon murmured almost regretfully.
I cocked an eyebrow and softly sang, “Surprise.”
Callum chuckled until my eyes met his, and I skewered him with a look.
His smile died, and he studied me closely. “Go,” he ordered Shannon, his eyes never leaving mine.
My stepsister obeyed and took off like her ass was on fire.
“I wanted to tell you—” he began.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Liar. You had no intention of saying shit.”
His mouth tightened.
“I need to pack,” I murmured.
His face softened. “Thank you for understanding. It was before us. I’d never have gone there if I knew we’d end up getting?—”
“I don’t care,” I interrupted.
His forehead furrowed in confusion.
“We’ll go to Wyoming, keep up appearances, and then after a few months, we’ll come to the mutual decision that our marriage was rushed, and it won’t work. I’ll leave, we’ll get divorced, and we’ll get on with our lives. But what you won’t do is fuck around with other women, Callum O’Shea. You’ve humiliated me enough. While we’re married and officially together, you’ll keep your overused dick in your pants and behave like the married man you just became of your own free will.”
He stared down at me.
“Today has been the worst day of my life,” I shared. “And seeing as I’ve lost both parents, that’s a big statement. A girl dreams of her wedding day, but mine’s been a damned nightmare. So, when we get to Wyoming, I want you to have a care that all this is new for me, too, and then we’ll talk about what’s next.”
His beautiful eyes searched mine. He must have found what he was looking for because he muttered, “I’ve hurt you.”
Tears sprang up behind my gaze. “Yeah, but it’s not what you think. I knew there was a big chance this wouldn’t work and I’d get hurt, but I always believed you were a decent man and you’d at least have respect for me. I admit, the fact you’ve blindsided me about our marriage is depressing, but being wrong about your heart and your morals is what hurts.”
He looked at me, stunned for a second, before he raised his hand and whipped my glasses off. But what shocked me the most was what he did next. It was something so unexpected and so stunningly sad that it brought a lump to my throat.
He rested his forehead against mine and whispered, “You’re too good for me, Maeve Monroe; I’ve known it since the minute I picked you up off the hallway floor after that bitch tripped you. My life’s empty because I never did anything that meant anything, whereas you’re so filled to the brim with everything good and decent it shames me. When you inevitably leave me—‘cause why the fuck wouldn’t you?—I’ll wish you well. But until then, I’ll prove how deeply I respect you because I do—more than you’ll ever know. I’m sorry I made you think differently.”
I closed my eyes as he gave me a soft forehead kiss, his lips lingering on my skin. “Hurry up and pack the last of your things. I wanna get us the fuck outta here and take you home.” His head lifted, and he turned and walked away, leaving me staring after him with my jaw on the floor.
Who the hell was this guy? I didn’t have the experience to work him out, which would eventually lead to my downfall because it would be so easy to let my emotions creep in and so easy to let go of all my inhibitions and lead with my heart.
And that made Callum O’Shea dangerous.
In the space of one day, he’d put me through every emotion imaginable. I’d experienced more highs and lows in twenty-four hours than I’d known in my entire life. For a girl like me, who never had that before, I knew it would be easy to become addicted to him and the way he made me feel alive, in both good and very bad ways.
I needed to lock my heart safely away if I was going to get through the following months and leave the marriage with my peace of mind intact.
Callum was right when he said I needed to toughen up, especially when it came to him, because eventually, I would leave, and when I did, I wouldn’t look back with regret.
I began to pack the last of my stuff, noticing when I’d zipped up my last case and glanced nostalgically around the room how I’d left more behind than I’d taken.
Perhaps it was my subconscious telling me it was time to start again. Deep down, I knew if I stayed in this house, everything that set me apart from Orla and the girls would wither away and die.
I was determined to revel in my individuality, and I wouldn’t make apologies for who I was anymore; I wanted to celebrate it. Callum could have his opinion about who he thought I should be, but the only person I ever wanted to be was myself, and screw anyone who tried to take my power away.
Jutting my chin up, I pulled my shoulders back determinedly, and my lips curved into a wide smile as something profound occurred to me.
I’d done it; I’d survived my version of Hell.
Tomorrow was the first day of the rest of my life, and whatever bullshit the future and Callum O’Shea held in store for me, I was determined to make it beautiful.