Chapter 4
CAROLINE
Red stands on the threshold of my apartment with a hard stare. “You know I can’t go back there without you.”
“Then it sounds like you’re screwed.”
His jaw ticks. I know what that look means. I’ve seen it on Red a million times growing up. He’s the easiest of my four brothers to piss off. Nothing drives him crazier than disrespecting the family.
“Dad says he needs to speak with you. It’s not an option.”
I look around my meager little apartment. There’s not much to see: secondhand couch, TV I stole from my childhood bedroom when I moved out, pots and pans from a nearby thrift store. “I don’t see Dad here. Guess he doesn’t have a say in my life anymore.”
“Caroline.” Red’s tone is firm, like he’s talking to a little kid. Which, to be fair, has been his experience of me for a long time. Red’s ten years older than me, my brother closest in age. To him and the others, I’m just an annoying baby. “Please don’t make this difficult.”
I know I’m going with him eventually. In the end, Dad gets what Dad wants, whether I like it or not. I’ve been lucky he let me live on my own outside of his supervision for the past year. But that doesn’t mean I actually escaped him. I’m not that stupid.
But screw Red. And screw Dad. They’ve tortured me enough over the years. Now I get some pleasure in making their lives just slightly more difficult.
Sometimes petty revenge is all you can get.
“Tell Dad to FaceTime me. Better yet, he can drive over here himself if he wants to speak.”
Red’s nose wrinkles. “He’s got better things to do.”
“And you don’t?” I act all innocent, like I really am offended for my brother. “I thought you were an important member of the organization. But here you are, fetching your little sister.”
His cheeks turn red. I know I’m pushing it now. “Time to go. Either you come down with me now, or I’ll crack your fucking skull open and drag you down. You think Dad will care if I throw you on his office floor bleeding?”
Wouldn’t be the first time.
I smile sweetly. “Say please.”
“Don’t be a bitch, Caroline. Get in the goddamn car.”
I grab my keys and my phone. A thrill of fear runs through me. Red’s easy to rile up, but he’s also the first one to break into true rage. He won’t hesitate to follow through on his threats.
“Don’t start crying. Let’s get moving.”
Red grabs me by the hair as I try to walk past. He pulls hard and I yelp in alarm. “You better not give Dad this fucking attitude, you spoiled brat.” He shoves me hard. My face slams into the wall across from my apartment. “No more shit. Get moving.”
I grunt, steadying myself. My forehead throbs with pain, but luckily, I’m not bleeding. I probably won’t even bruise. I’d know, I’m a connoisseur of injuries like this.
We drive south out of the city and into Delco.
Dad lives in a massive, ugly McMansion in the suburbs, as close to Philadelphia County as he can get without actually having to pay city taxes.
It’s the house I grew up in, the house I despise more than anything in the world.
Red parks and slams the door behind him as he stomps in through the side door.
I take my time following. Dad’s BMW is parked in front of the garage.
Mom’s Lexus is probably inside. I haven’t spoken to Mom since I moved out and I really hope I don’t have to speak to her now.
Mostly because I can’t stand watching her twist her head into knots pretending like everything’s okay.
It’s her biggest sin and her greatest skill. I’m almost jealous of it.
Red takes me straight to Dad’s office. That’s a bad sign. Nothing good happens in this room. I have terrible memories of this place. Even as I get older, I still feel a stone in my guts just walking down the hall toward that familiar door. Red knocks once and pushes it open when Dad calls out.
“Don’t be stupid,” Red murmurs, his anger gone now. He seems oddly sympathetic. That’s not a look I’m familiar with on his nasty face. “It won’t be so bad.”
“What are you talking about?” Real fear hits me. But Red just nods with his chin and I step into the office.
Dad’s behind his desk. The door shuts with a soft click.
He doesn’t glance up and I’m left standing there feeling terror slowly build.
There’s a big, round carpet in front of an old fireplace behind me and lots of large windows along the right-side wall.
Pictures of Dad with union leaders, activists, politicians, and artists line the bookshelves.
How all these people can stand to be in the same room as my father, I’ll never understand it.
He’s got a sterling reputation though. A family man, a champion of the working class, an ally of all those who care about New York City. He’s been on more marches, been in more important closed-door meetings, and bribed more influential officials than anyone alive.
And yet I know him as a rotten, hateful piece of shit.
“Caroline.” He glances up from his phone. He’s still typing away, probably posting some mystical gem of wisdom on his Twitter account. “How are you?”
“Fine.” I learned a long time ago to speak as little as possible. He likes that.
“Good. Very good.” He puts his phone down.
Dad’s eyes are a deep blue, similar to my own, but his hair’s gone gray over the years.
It’s that nice silver color. His jaw’s square and his nose is squat.
He looks like an Irish movie star. All my brothers have that same quality, and then there’s me.
I look more like Mom: soft and small. “This is going to come as a surprise to you, but you’re here to do something important for the family today. ”
I absolutely do not like where this is going. “What’s that?”
He gestures. “Sit down.”
I take a seat. “Thank you.” He likes it when I’m polite.
Dad leans forward. His long, scarred, callused fingers fold together. “You’ve been living on your own for how long now? Several months?”
“Closer to a year.”
He nods. “Very good. You’ve been self-sufficient. I didn’t like it when you wanted to move into the city on your own, but I think it might’ve taught you some things about the value of hard work.”
I feel sick. I nod and look down at my lap. “Yes, it did.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Hard work is all we have in this life.
” I’ve heard this speech a thousand times, but fortunately he doesn’t give me the full version.
Instead, he places his hands flat on the desk.
“I’m going to ask you to do something, Caroline.
It’s going to be difficult. You won’t want to do it.
But I’ve tried over the years to instill a certain understanding in you.
I’ve tried to teach you that the family is bigger than any individual member.
That we all do what we must. I haven’t asked too much of you, not yet at least, but now it’s time. ”
I want to cry. He has no idea what he’s saying. He can’t begin to imagine the hell I’ve been through. How his lessons have wormed their way into my brain and poisoned me. I nod submissively, hating myself so much for it.
“What do you need?”
He nods happily. I can tell that was the right response. “You know the Whelan family. You know how important our relationship is. They have a young son, the only son who isn’t already married as it happens. He’s close to Dermot’s age, I believe.”
That would make him at least thirteen years older than me. “What about them?” But I don’t want to know. A part of me is aware of what he’s about to say and it’s rebelling. My head’s like one long scream, like my brain’s filled with a glitching, broken movie stream.
“You are going to marry him. Declan Whelan and I would like the wedding to happen in two weeks.”
I sit back like Dad just kicked me in the chest. My heart’s racing. He’s watching carefully, scrutinizing me for any sign that I might disobey him, and it’s hard to keep a straight face. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because all I want to do is cry.
But I know what happens when I cry. I know how it makes my father feel.
“Marry him?” I ask in a very small voice. “But we’ve never met.”
He waves a hand. “You will. He wants to speak with you at least once before the two of you make it official, though I don’t know why.
It’s an arrangement, Caroline, a lucrative and important arrangement.
This marriage will bind our families together for a very, very long time, and everyone will benefit. ”
Everyone but me.
“What’s his name?”
Dad stands and turns his back to me, hands clasped behind him, and talks as if he hadn’t heard me.
“My work is never finished, Caroline. You know how injustice spreads. It takes from the working class first. Always it takes and passes power and wealth up to those who don’t need it the most. We struggle against that process.
Your marriage to the Whelans will help power the engine of struggle. ”
I could scream. He sounds like he’s giving a speech at a fucking union hall, not telling his daughter she’s being sold off to a frickin’ stranger. “But what’s his name?” I ask desperately.
He pauses and looks back. His frown is deep. “Did you interrupt me?”
I go very still. I know that cold tone. I know what happens next. “I apologize.”
His fists flex. I flash back to a thousand different moments, just like this one. My eyes stray to a rusty brown stain on the edge of the carpet. That was my fault. I bled too much.
But the blow never comes. “His name is Finn.” He picks up his phone and turns the screen to show me a photograph.
“This is him with his family at our fundraiser two months ago. He’s the man on the far left.
” I stare at that face, at the incredibly beautiful and empty face, and Dad pulls the phone away.
I’m tempted to grab it from his hand. I’m tempted to scream.
He starts talking about doing what’s best and obeying our family but I can’t hear any of it anymore over the hammering in my ears.
I know that man. I’ve seen him before.
I was kissing him last night.
It’s my boss. My boss is Finn Whelan.
And I’m supposed to marry him.
This can’t be right. This can’t be happening. But suddenly, the last few weeks click into place.
That job wasn’t just some lucky coincidence. I wasn’t chosen because of my sterling record or my personal attributes.
He sent that recruiter after me. He hired me on purpose and knew I’d take the job because of how well he was paying.
He knew from the start. And he knew when he saw me in that pool. He had to have known.
It wasn’t some coincidence. It was so much worse.
I feel ill. My legs are shaking as Dad keeps talking. Eventually, I realize I’m being dismissed. I teeter from the room. Dad doesn’t comment, probably because I’ve done nothing but nod and agree with everything, even while internally I’m panicking.
I fucked my Finn Whelan last night. I fucked my future husband, and he knew, he knew and he still did it and he didn’t say a word.
I’m beyond freaked out when I step into the hallway.
Red’s still waiting for me. He glances up from his phone, frowning at me. I stand in silence, too stunned to do anything else.
“Are you going to make trouble?” he asks.
I look up at my youngest brother. I slowly shake my head.
“Good. Come on.” He puts his phone away. His tone’s almost gentle now. “I’ll bring you home.”
No, I won’t make trouble. Not for Red or for my father. Not yet, anyway.
But I will make trouble for that bastard Finn Whelan.