Chapter 21
REGAN
Ialways get a pang of anxiety walking through the front door of my father’s house. Even after all these years, it still bugs me, like a jolt straight to my core. Mom’s in the kitchen filling a glass of wine and she looks up when I hurry toward her.
“I heard about what happened.” I hug her tightly. She pats my back.
“Oh, hun, it’s fine, everything’s okay.”
“How can you say that? There was an attack. Dad and Luke—“
“Are both fine.” She emphasizes her favorite word. They’re fine, the world’s fine, everything’s fine, even if the sky’s raining ash and fire, it’s fine, don’t worry.
I am relieved to hear that though. I hug her again and pull back since I know too much physical contact will make her uncomfortable. I was the same way for a while, but being with Liam is shifting something in me in a strange way.
“Do you know what happened?”
She hugs herself and drinks her wine. The look she gives me is pitying. “No darling, and you don’t either. That’s not our place.”
“Mom—“
“No, honey, listen to me. I know you married that Liam man, and it makes you feel like you’re a part of family business now, but you aren’t. That isn’t how it works.”
Anger slices into me. I maintain my calm facade though. “How does it work then?”
“You get on with it. They do what they do, and you don’t ask too many questions. That’s how you survive. You know this, sweetie.”
“I haven’t been asking questions for a long, long time, and where has that gotten me? Seriously, Mom, where? Married to a stranger? My fiancé cheated on me and stole from my family. I never asked any questions, and here we are.”
“Don’t be that way, Regan. It won’t go well for you.”
“Mom—“
“Chin up, darling, back straight, soldier on. Nothing fazes you, remember? You’re a Corrigan.”
I grit my teeth, watching her, and realize she’s too far gone. I’ll never pierce through the armor she’s layered overtop herself these long years. I wonder if she was like me when she first married Dad, naive, pissed off, looking for answers, and if he ground her down.
“You’re right. I forgot myself.” I force a smile and turn away. “Where’d Luke go? I should check on him.”
“In his room, darling. There you are. That’s my girl.”
Yeah, I’m her girl, all right. Been her girl all my life.
I charge up the stairs. Luke’s room is down the hall from mine. He’s not here usually—he moved out the second he had the money—but it doesn’t surprise me he’s home now after what happened. I knock and turn the knob when he tells me to come in.
My brother’s lying in bed on top of the blanket, back propped up with pillows. Both his eyes are black, his nose is crooked, and he’s got a nasty bandage wrapped around his arm. He’s in a white tank top and black shorts, scowling at his phone, swiping quickly through something.
“What’re you doing home?” he asks, glancing up. “Liam kicked you out?”
“He’s got some job tonight, but I wanted to check on you while he was gone.”
Luke’s eyes flick to the phone and back to me. “What sort of job?”
“I don’t know, he doesn’t tell me. God, Luke, look at you. I heard what happened.”
He grins but he seems off. “Honestly, I’m fine. Are you sure Liam didn’t tell you what he was up to?”
“No, and it doesn’t matter.” I flop down in a chair by his desk. “He told me what happened. Well, some of it, anyway. I’m really happy you’re okay.”
“Nah, don’t worry about me. Liam got me out. Saved my ass when it all went down. He tried to shove me out the door but I followed him like a moron.” He gestures at his face. “Got this in the process. Seriously, where’s he at tonight? I want to thank him.”
“Swing by tomorrow morning and he’ll probably be around, but no guarantees. He does what he wants.”
“Right, sure, maybe I’ll do that.” He drops his gaze back to his phone, frowning and distracted.
“You’re really okay? I mean, after what happened, you probably want to keep your head down for a while, right?”
“Huh? Head down?” He grimaces as he lowers the phone. “I got a job to do, Regan. Not really something I get to choose.”
“I know, but I mean, with Dad and all—“ I trail off, not sure how the whole Whelan thing works.
Luke’s smile seems sad. He looks a lot like Mom. “Dad’s the reason I am where I am. If they say jump, I ask how high, that sort of shit. But it’s fine, right? I’m a good soldier.”
“I don’t want you to be a soldier at all.”
“Seriously, don’t worry. I got my guardian angel Liam.” He laughs, but there’s an edge to it. “I really can’t believe you don’t even know where your husband is. He didn’t mention anything?”
“Why? Is there something going down right now?”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
“I’m worried about you. This stuff with the Baranovs is going to get worse before it gets better. I want you to stay far away from it.”
“No promises there.”
“Can’t you, I don’t know, get out of the city? For a few weeks? Say you’re on vacation, say anything—“
“Regan.” His voice is firm. He shifts upright with a grunt of pain. “I don’t get to do that. I don’t get to do anything but what I’m told. Please, stop.”
I feel helpless and small. My brother’s in pain, beat up, half-dead from what he said, and here I am begging him to stay out of the coming war.
And there’s nothing else I can do about it.
Unless I’m feeling masochistic…
And desperate.
“Alright, fine, but I’m going to check on you later.”
He glances down at his phone again before abruptly straightening. “Hey, you remember that campsite we went to when we were kids? Dad took the whole family and insisted it would bring us closer together?”
I smile, not sure why he’s bringing this up now. “I remember mosquitos, nasty lake water, and a bad sunburn.”
“We never were the outdoors type, right?”
“Not remotely. Why are you bringing that up now?”
“No reason. A fun memory, that’s all.”
I’m not sure what to make of it, but I’m too distracted to press. We make some more small talk before I leave him alone and head back downstairs. Normally this is where I’d leave it. Luke’s hurt but alive, he’s safe for now at least, and I should go back home.
Instead, I angle toward my father’s office.
He’s home. I don’t doubt it. If he’s not at work, he’s in here, either answering emails or clicking around on his computer. I never know what he’s doing back there and can’t ever ask, not unless I’m in the mood for a lecture and a smack to the mouth.
I doubt even marrying Liam could protect me from his anger.
Dad doesn’t seem happy to see me. The feeling's mutual. At least he’s unhurt. He grunts at my arrival and reluctantly tears his attention from his screen.
“Liam told me about what happened. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine. I was near the entrance when it happened. I got out.” He studies me, a curious expression on his face. “I hear that husband of yours saved lives. He acted quick.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“If not for him, I’d guess there’d be more bodies to clean up. You should be proud.”
Strangely I am. I like that Liam risked himself to help others, especially to help Luke.
“I’ll pass that along.”
“Do what you want.” His attention wanes. I guess now that we aren’t talking about Liam anymore, it’s not interesting. “Anything else? I’m busy now.”
“No, I was only making sure you were okay.”
“You made sure. Good night, Regan.”
His dismissal stings. I don’t move though. I remain rooted in place, aware that I’m only going to get myself hurt, but unable to help myself. His eyes drift back to me and his face pinches in annoyance.
“I want to talk about Luke.”
“What’s there to say about your brother?”
“I want you to protect him, Dad. Keep him out of the fight.”
His expression darkens. “Careful.”
“We both know you have that influence. There’s a reason the Whelans wanted you to marry your daughter off to one of their top men. They listen to you, Dad, and if you asked them to make sure Luke was only ever given safe jobs—“
“Regan, enough.” The ice in his tone sends a jolt down my spine. I clack my teeth together, stiffening to attention, terror lancing through my chest. I’m a little girl again, about to be punished, back before I learned how to survive.
Dad tips toward me. There’s a tired edge in his expression.
“The business is mine. You will never speak to me like this again.”
“I’m only asking—“
“Never. Again.” His lip curls. “I don’t care who you married. You’re still my daughter, and you will respect me.”
I want to fight him. I want to rage. But instead, like always, I drop my gaze to the floor and nod grimly. “Yes, Dad.”
“Leave now.”
I turn on my heel and flee.
Pathetic. God, so pathetic. I shut his door behind me and slump against the wall, breathing hard.
Sweat beads my skin. I wanted to stand up to him, to insist that he did something good for once in his life, that he protected someone important instead of using them for his own personal gain, but I couldn’t do it.
I wanted to, I really did, but my whole life’s been spent keeping my mouth shut.
I crumbled.
God, I hate myself.
I stagger away toward the foyer. My head’s spinning. I almost don’t notice Luke standing in the shadows of the stairs, near the front door, talking on the phone. I can’t hear him, but he’s whispering rapidly.
Which is odd. He’s acting strangely. I don’t recognize the phone he’s using either. It’s black and one of those flip models from forever ago. His main device is an iPhone, so what’s he need that one for?
I’m about to call out when he hangs up. The grim, vacant stare, clearly lost in thought as he shoves the strange phone away in his pocket, gives me pause.
Why’s he out of bed? What’s he even doing?
He opens the door and leaves the house before I can tell him to stop.
This makes no sense. He’s clearly hurt and in pain.
Luke’s not the type to go storming off when he needs rest. When he was younger, he slept in every morning and moaned when Mom dragged him out of bed.
He cried when he stubbed his toes or fell on the playground, sometimes inconsolably.
Colds knocked him out and he acted like every sniffle was the plague come to end his life.
Now he’s running out with serious injuries?
I don’t get it. I barely know my brother anymore, I realize. Slowly, subtly, by small pieces, over the years he changed into… a stranger.
A Whelan soldier.
And nobody cares but me, not my mother, not my father, sure as hell nobody else in the world.
I feel him slipping away, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.