Chapter 15
REGAN
It’s not fair. None of this is fair.
I’m supposed to be standing up here in front of a room filled with violent strangers, hating every second of my own wedding.
Instead, there’s Liam.
Looking at me with hungry eyes and a dangerous smile.
Hands laced against mine. Calloused fingers squeezing every time my attention drifts away, dragging me back.
His cheeks covered in stubble, his hair styled perfectly, his tuxedo making him look even more deadly.
Handsome in a way he’s got no right to be.
His touch is warm and comforting, and it’s wrong, it’s all wrong.
I should be hating every second.
Instead, I find myself trying not to smile back, struggling against the bizarre medley of butterflies breaking against my stomach.
I’m weirdly nervous as the priest goes through the ceremony, and I should probably pay attention since this is also a covenant with God, but I can’t bring myself to think about anyone other than the devil I’m marrying.
I know that mouth. I know what it feels like between my legs. I know what he sounds like when he comes, what it feels like when he sinks inside of me, how his strong arms tug me closer. I know the rhythms of him in ways I definitely shouldn’t.
In ways I wish I didn’t.
But he holds me there. He keeps me grounded when I’m terrified, I might drift, and when the priest announces our official union and tells Liam he can go ahead and kiss me if he wants, there’s no hesitation.
My husband drags me closer in front of a few hundred strangers and kisses me like we’ve been in love for decades.
His taste floods me and my brain’s a messy slurry of lust, confusion, and hate, all pulsing around him.
This bastard I married.
“You did good,” he says as we walk down the aisle together, his grip tight on my hand, still intent on keeping me together. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t have to marry yourself.”
“Love, I’ve been stuck inside this my whole life. You think I don’t know how wonderful it is to be around me?”
“That’s not the feeling I get.”
“Right, of course not, instead your knees lock together and you have a knot of pure desire burning down into that lovely core of yours, right?”
“More like a distinct sensation of food poisoning.”
“I’m happy I make you feel anything at all.”
We step out into the atrium. The wedding planner flutters around us like a lost dove, cooing and saying how good we look.
I’m posed in front of cameras as Liam lazily smiles, an arm draped over my shoulders possessively.
“Who’s going to look at these?” I say under my breath as a flash goes off in my face.
Liam tells the photographer to go fucking easy on the lights before bending his mouth to my ear. “I plan on flogging my—“
“There they are!” A young woman hurries over. She’s shockingly pretty, dressed conservatively, and has a wide smile. Her big, round eyes seem to sparkle with amusement as Liam pulls away from me. “I’ve been dying to say congratulations.”
“Hello, Caroline, thank you very much.” Liam sounds oddly formal as she hugs him fiercely. “Where’s the boss?”
“Oh, he’s coming.” Caroline turns to me, brushing her dark hair off her shoulder. “You’re Regan. It’s really amazing to meet you. I’m sorry it has to be here, but you know how it goes. I’m Caroline Whelan, Finn’s wife.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say in a daze, barely registering who she really is, though the last name gives her away.
The center of power. The core Whelan family.
Finn himself strides over. He shakes Liam’s hand and pounds his back amiably before hugging me like we’ve known each other forever.
I catch a bemused glare on Liam’s face at that.
Finn studies me a moment, his handsome eyes glinting.
He’s got a boyish charm to him, an ease and a flow, like he’s the room’s boss and everyone knows it.
Which he probably is.
“I wanted to say how thankful I am you agreed to this, Regan.” Finn squeezes my shoulders before stepping back to join his wife. “Everyone in my family appreciates it. I know it’s not easy, since you’re stuck with that one—“
“I’m a delight and she’s truly ecstatic we’re together,” Liam says dryly.
“—But still, it’s important, and it means a lot. We won’t forget it.”
Caroline cuts in quickly. “And if you need anything, anything at all, and I mean that very sincerely, please reach out. I have some ideas about how you’re feeling right now and I wouldn’t mind chatting.”
“Um, thank you.”
Liam puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me tight. “What my shy wife means is, we appreciate it, and please go drink the booze you paid for.”
Finn laughs loudly and steers Caroline away. I blink a few times, heady and uncertain, as Liam waves the photographer off and tells the planner to go sit on her schedule. My mom won’t like that, but Liam tugs me over to a table off to the side and fetches a glass of champagne.
“Drink it.” He makes sure I obey. It’s bubbly and warm in my stomach. “You look like you’re going to puke.”
“Sorry. I’m fine. I’m totally fine.”
“Keep saying it, maybe it’ll come true.”
“Don’t be a dick. You’re the reason I’m like this.”
“No, I’m not.” His voice softens as he looks across the room at the gathering men. I follow his gaze. “They are and you know it.”
I want to argue. He was the one at the front of the room. He was the one who took my hand in marriage. But I know what he means.
The men in this room are the real power.
Their families, businesses, structures, desires, whims, those are the reason anything happens.
If the Whelans didn’t want a closer alliance with my father and tighter grip over the money laundering operation, this wouldn’t be happening.
Liam’s as much a piece in this game as I am.
Still… he’s here and they aren’t.
“I really want to go home. I don’t want to do this.” I say it offhand. I know it’s not an option. Liam’s got to parade me around, introduce me to important people, and I have to smile through it all like I’m happy about this.
He comes closer around the table. “We can go if you want.”
I snap my eyes to him. “Are you kidding?”
“Not at all. We don’t matter, love. You think they’ll notice?”
“My mother sure as heck will.”
“She’ll survive. I’ll make excuses to Finn and the others. Declan won’t care. Your father might be pissed, but what’s it matter? The Whelans got what they wanted.”
I bite my tongue. I know the right thing is to mingle. I should thank everyone for coming, but they’re not here for me. I didn’t invite any of them and had nothing to do with this event at all. Even the dress appeared in my room one day, perfectly tailored and ready to wear.
Liam’s right. I’m a warm body at best.
But perfect little Regan knows her duty. I’m supposed to laugh at bad jokes and make my father proud.
I’m not supposed to light cars on fire, fuck strangers, or sneak out.
Who the hell am I right now? Still the same girl desperate to do everything right? I feel unmoored, lost, like I’m staggering through thick fog.
Liam’s the only solid thing in my life right now.
Which is pretty messed up.
I grab his arm. I dig my fingers into his muscle, wanting something firm and warm. He doesn’t seem to mind, only slips a hand onto the small of my back. I meet his gaze and there’s nothing malicious in the way he’s looking at me. Why does he even care? What’s he get out of this, anyway?
I know why everyone else wanted us to get married. I even know why I’m doing it.
But what’s he here for?
“If you can get me out, now’s the time,” I whisper, desperate, afraid, and not sure who I am anymore.
“Right this way, Mrs. Lankshear.”
Oh god.
I stagger after him. We skirt the main group as it moves toward a reception area on the side of the venue.
There are halls cutting back toward kitchens and Liam seems to know them well.
We make a big loop and end up back at the front of the building, hurrying down the big, elaborate staircase.
At the bottom, several men in dark suits are standing together and smoking cigarettes. They seem confused when they spot us.
One detaches himself. He’s older than the rest, his sandy hair speckled with gray. “Sir, is everyone okay?” He seems ready to grab something from his jacket.
Liam gestures for calm. “Taking my wife for a walk, is all. She needs some fresh air.”
I give him a glassy smile. Which isn’t hard right now.
The man frowns at us. I’m guessing he’s head of security. “I wasn’t informed of this. You’re all supposed to stay inside for your protection.”
“We’re fine, Ethan. For fuck’s sake, everyone important is still in here.”
He glances over his shoulder. “I don’t know—“
“It’s fine. If anyone takes the fall, it’ll be me.” Liam pats him on the chest. We take another step down onto the sidewalk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my wife and I—“
He doesn’t finish that sentence.
It happens so fast.
One second, I’m feeling overwhelmed, but there’s a glimmer of hope.
I’m already picturing getting out of this stupid dress, letting my hair down, taking a hot shower, pulling on sweats, drowning myself in cheap wine, when several men come hurrying toward us down the sidewalk.
I count five, but that can’t be right, it’s probably only three.
Ethan’s moving forward, pushing me sideways, and Liam’s the one who catches me in his arms. His lips are hot against my ear and he’s eerily calm.
“Stay down,” he whispers.
Before the shooting starts.
I scream at the deafening pops. They’re brutally loud this close.
I’ve never heard guns like this in my life.
Liam’s body covers me and the concrete of the sidewalk digs into my dress.
I keep thinking: wow, this is so weird, as the screaming starts and my ears ring like a bell got smashed in my brain.
Liam’s breathing is calm, and for some reason that keeps me together, until he’s sitting up on his knees and shaking my shoulders.
“Regan! Are you okay? Regan, talk to me!”
I blink at his face. It’s splattered with blood. I touch his cheek, trying to make sense of it.
“I think… I’m fine…” Nothing hurts at all, but that can’t be right.
Liam snarls and turns. That’s when I see.
Ethan’s dead. His skull’s shattered like a brick through an egg. Liam’s soaked in his blood. More men in dark jackets are swarming all over the place, their guns drawn, and there’s so much red it’s cartoonish. Who splashed it all over the place? Who made such a stupid mess?
And on my wedding day of all days.