Chapter 46
forty-six
It’s early when I wake. The sun barely peeks over the tops of the buildings.
Matthias is already gone, his side of the bed still warm.
It’s expected, though. He had an early morning appointment with one of the suppliers on the East Coast. Some of the shipments have been hijacked enroute, and it isn’t looking good.
I shower quickly and get dressed, not wasting time on washing my hair. A bun will do just fine, and since I’m spending most of the day at the bar, I opt for a pair of black jeans and a gray off-the-shoulder sweater with simple black flats.
Since it’s only around five in the morning, I take the elevator down to the bar instead of the family floor. The kitchen staff will be prepping for lunch, and a hot carafe of coffee will already be made. Maybe I can convince the chef to whip me up some eggs, too.
Stepping off the elevator, I stride into the main dining area and toward the bar.
The stench of copper fills the air, and it’s unusually quiet.
Where is everyone? Normally, you can hear the clanking of pots and pans through the service door and the chef yelling obscenities like an Irish Gordon Ramsey knockoff.
“I’d stop right there if I were you.” A voice drifts through the empty bar as I approach the kitchen doors. Then there’s the click of a gun. Fuck, the bitch can’t let me have my coffee first?
“Marianne,” I drawl her name in a bored tone as she steps out from behind the service doors and the bar, her gun level with my face. “You look like shit.”
Her strawberry-blond hair is slicked back in a ponytail, and her eyes are tear-stained and puffy. She’s collected quite a few bruises since I last saw her. They snake up her arms, and the ones on her throat have begun to turn a sickly yellow.
Whoever did that to her isn’t a happy person.
“Shut up,” she snaps. Her grip tightens on the small revolver in her hand—a .38 lady. Nothing special, but it would suck if I got shot with it. “You ruined everything,” she hisses at me. “Everything. Just like your whore of a mother.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I yawn, already bored with where this conversation is heading. She’s spewing the same old shit.
“Is that what you told my mother the night you killed her?” I ask, knowing full well it won’t be long before my father or one of the twins comes downstairs for their own cup of morning coffee. Marianne sneers at me. “Oh, come on. Just between us girls. You can tell me anything, I promise.”
Her lips are shut tighter than Fort Knox.
“Why don’t you tell me about how you screamed at her that Liam was yours,” I taunt. “That she took everything from you. How you were never her friend and whispered your secrets in her ear before you left her to die.”
Marianne lets out a sharp, mocking laugh.
“What are you trying to do, little girl?” she asks, her lips splitting into a demented smile, showcasing her pearly white teeth.
“Get me to confess to something I never did to make your story more plausible? I never hurt your mother. I was her best friend. You are the one who orchestrated all of this. You are the puppeteer. So jealous of what we had here that you had to go and try to tear it apart.”
Huh? “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t be stupid, little girl,” she spits venomously. “You want your father all to yourself. Admit it. Want to take everything you didn’t have. What doesn’t belong to you. Don’t play stupid.”
My god, the bitch is unhinged.
Which, of course, naturally means I’m going to poke her with a stick.
“I think someone is projecting, don’t you?” I hold my hands up in front of me and shrug. “I mean, you did take everything that was meant for my mother, after all.”
“This is my family,” she screams. Yep, that ought to wake the neighbors. “Mine. Not yours. Not your mothers. Mine. Your great-grandmother took everything from me.” She brandishes the gun at me, taking a few steps closer. “Everything, you hear me? She deserved what she got just like your…”
“Mom?” Seamus steps into the bar, his green eyes on his mother, brow creased with concern. Or maybe suspicion. It’s hard to tell. Meanwhile, Kiernan, who’s a few short steps behind him, looks downright hostile with his cold, dark eyes glaring daggers at the woman who gave birth to him.
Kiernan is naturally suspicious. Unlike Seamus, who’s open and trusting, he saw Marianne’s treachery early on in his childhood.
It isn’t that he is blind to their mother’s actions, but I think, in a lot of ways, he’s like I was with Elias.
Hoping that one day she’ll show him the parental love he’s always wanted from her.
I snort internally at the thought. Fat chance of that. The woman is a pure narcissistic sociopath.
“Seamus,” she breathes.
“What are you doing?” He frowns at the gun in her hand. Marianne’s face falls as she looks at her son.
“What do you mean?” she asks innocently. “Your sister has been manipulating you. Poisoning your mind against me.”
Rolling my eyes, I blow out my cheeks. Yep, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Caught me. Criminal mastermind of my own making.
Marianne scowls at me.
“Put down the gun, Mother,” Kiernan hisses at her, his hand going to the back of his pants.
“You don’t tell your mother what to do, boy,” she hisses at him, dropping the innocent face she’d been sporting seconds ago. “This is my house.”
“Actually, it’s mine,” my father’s voice booms. Taken off guard by his sudden entrance, Marianne seizes my moment of weakness and pounces.
Her long nails scratch at my scalp when she grabs a handful of my hair, wrenching me to her.
With my back to her front, she places the barrel of her gun against my temple and snarls.
“This has to end,” she cries. “She’s tricked you. Manipulated you. Why can none of you see it?” She digs the barrel into my temple, and I wince. That’s going to leave a bruise.
“Put the gun down, Marianne,” my father growls.
“I didn’t do anything!” the lying bitch screams. “It was all her. She did this to take you away from me.” Now she’s growing agitated, her grip on my hair harsh enough that I can feel some of the strands detaching from my scalp.
I better not end up with a bald spot.
“Oh yeah,” I snort. “I’m the criminal mastermind here. You figured out my master plan. Oh no.”
I hear one of the twins snort a laugh. Seamus, most likely, but my current view only allows me to see my father’s thunderous face. Oops. Not a fan of my nervous, under-pressure comedic prowess, apparently.
“Not helping.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Marianne, let her go and let’s talk about this.”
That isn’t going to happen.
“Do you think I’m stupid, Liam?” she growls. “The minute I let go of her, I’m a dead woman.”
Maybe she isn’t that stupid after all.
“Whatever is going on,” he holds his hands out toward her, “we can figure it out.”
Scoff. Once she’s buried in a deep, deep grave, we can.
Damn, I really need to take some meditation classes or something. Shit is getting dark in my head.
“She did this,” Marianne screams. “Why can’t you see it? All of this has been just an elaborate setup to take everything I have. To take what I love most in the world from me. Just like Katherine.”
“Keep her name out of your mouth, bitch,” I snarl at her. “The only thing you love in this world is yourself. Money and power are the two things you crave. That is it. Don’t drag my mother into this unless you want me to air your dirty secrets to the world.”
“I’m not the one with dirty secrets,” she hisses. “Tell them how you killed your mother, little Ava. It was all you. Everything was you.”
What the fuck is going on? Is this chick for real?
“They told me,” Marianne insists, turning her gaze on Liam, her eyes pleading.
“Sheila and Seamus have been looking into Katherine’s death, and everything points back to her.
” She shakes the hand she has clutching my hair, pulling it at the roots, and I can’t help the small cry that falls from my lips.
“Stop the lies, Mom,” Seamus hisses. “We know everything.”
Marianne scoffs. “You don’t know anything,” she dismisses him. “You can’t even do what you’re told. Look at everything now. Building alliances with motorcycle scum and putting a target on our backs because the two of you couldn’t keep it in your pants. You’re a disappointment.”
“Enough!” Liam roars. “You will not talk to my sons that way, Marianne.” Usually that tone of voice is enough to make the woman holding me in her grasp cower a bit.
Or at least cow her. But this time, his warning doesn’t work.
Something else is at play here. There is no way in hell Marianne would be this brave if she was alone.
Suddenly, the whole scenario makes more sense.
Marianne isn’t trying to convince them I’m guilty. She’s biding her time. The question is, where are the people who are making her so bold?
“Why are you really here, Marianne?” I question through gritted teeth, the pain in my scalp becoming unbearable. It’s more fun when it’s Matthias pulling my hair. “What are you waiting for?”
“I want you to tell them the truth.” Her cold eyes turn to mine. “Tell them what you did.”
“Why should my daughter confess to your sins?”
All eyes turn toward my mother, who has maneuvered herself between Seamus and Kiernan. Marianne’s mouth falls open, her face paling, and her eyes go wide as she gapes at the ghost before her.
“That’s…” Marianne stutters, her hand loosening its hold on my hair. “You’re…”
“Dead?” my mother finishes. “One would think so after the damage you did.” My mother flicks the cane in her hand, twirling it in a circle. “With this.”
Where the fuck did my mother get that? In her hand, she’s holding a silver crossed cane. The lacquer on the wood is peeling, and the cross is bent at an odd angle.
“Jesus,” I whisper under my breath.
“I’ve never seen that before.” Her left eye twitches at the lie. My mother raises a brow in disbelief.
“Really?” she mocks. “You don’t remember the tool you used to nearly beat me to death all those years ago? How odd.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” Marianne insists. “I was here. Working the bar.”
Liam shakes his head. “Except you weren’t,” he says. “You should know by now how thorough I am with keeping track of things, Marianne. No one saw you during the lunch rush. In fact, no one saw you until closing.”
“My timecard…” She trails off helplessly.
“You mean the one you had Eduardo clock you in with?”
Marianne visibly swallows as fear shines in her eyes. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” my mother asks calmly. “That you took everything I ever loved away from me? Do you know what Elias did to me, Marianne? Night after night, day after day, and that was before he found me half dead in my own house just feet away from my daughter’s hiding place.”
“You didn’t deserve what you had,” Marianne snarls.
“You were nothing more than a spoiled Irish princess with a silver spoon in her fucking mouth. Did you ever think about what I went through growing up? What they did to me?” She shakes her head wildly.
“No, of course you didn’t. Too busy fucking Liam in your ivory tower. ”
“I didn’t even know you existed, Marianne,” my mother tells her softly. “Not until you sold me out to Elias for the second time. You were never a thought in my mind until the day we met when we were thirteen and became my best friends.”
Marianne scoffs. “Please.” Her lips twist into a cruel snarl. “We were never best friends, and you know it. You didn’t give a fuck about what was happening in my life.”
“I did,” my mother assures her. “If you had only told me before I became suspicious myself, then maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.
I had always felt like something was missing in my life, and when you came along, I felt like that hole was filled.
I just didn’t know why. But you burned that bridge when you conspired to have me killed.
Fuck, it hadn’t crossed my mind that you would have betrayed me like that, but now I can see the whole picture. ”
“And what are you going to do about it?” Marianne derides with a sneer. “Kill me? Liam won’t let you do that. I’m the mother of his children.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kiernan mutters and glares at Seamus, who elbows him in the side.
“No, Marianne,” my mother sighs. “I wouldn’t take away their mother like you tried to Ava’s away from hers, but you will be going away for a very long time.”
“You see,” Liam steps forward, “the Irish clan council has been informed of the treachery within the McDonough clan, and they are less than pleased.”
“Pfft,” Marianne dismisses. “The clan has no say in what goes on here.” Liam shakes his head, eyes full of sorrow and regret.
“If you had bothered to pay attention to more than just your phone and vendetta,” he tells her, “you would have known that every Irish clan answers to the council. They are the ones who ensure we don’t fight among ourselves or repeat the sins of the past.”
“Murdering my father—” My mother’s hand tightens on the cane she’s holding. “Putting someone else in his place. Selling women and children. Those are things the council frowns upon. You will all be held accountable.”
“He wasn’t even your father.”
“He was to me,” mother breathes sadly. “And that is all that matters.”
The hand that had loosened on my hair tightens again, pulling me back into Marianne’s chest. She begins walking us backward toward the kitchen doors, the gun in her hand moving from my temple to my mother.
“If you think for one second that I am going to allow you to take me in like some kind of criminal,” she hisses, “you’re wrong. I told you this once already, sister,” she spits out the word as if it were something bitter coating her tongue. “I’m a goddess, and they named me Hera.”
Movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.
A sharp scream tears through my throat as I watch Marianne’s finger tighten on the trigger.
I don’t need to think about what I do next.
The moment I see her finger tighten on the trigger, I slam my head as hard as I can into the hand holding the revolver.
The shot meant for my mother goes wide, the bullet landing somewhere in the far wall.
That’s when all hell breaks loose.
Glass shatters on all sides, and smoke begins to fill the room as chaos erupts.