11. Connor #2
Instead, it’s her, standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up at me with a beautiful frown.
Wearing a white wedding dress.
Sinead looks incredible. Her hair’s back in a twisty braid.
Her makeup is flawless. She looks like an ancient druidic queen, the sort of woman who rode wolves into battle streaked in the gore of her enemies.
The dress clings to her curves, lovely and flowing, conservative while also emphasizing her stunning body.
She’s immaculate, the kind of bride any man would happily die for.
Now I see what Deck meant.
“Hello, Connor,” she says, her voice surprisingly calm, given the circumstances. Her brothers look like they’re coming apart, especially Fergus. They’re all still in their wedding suits.
“Hello, Sinead. You look fantastic.”
“Thank you. I had hoped you’d like the dress, but now I’m not sure I care.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Her lips twitch, the only proof that she’s feeling anything at all. Her hands are twisted in front of her, held loosely.
“I came to warn you. Father didn’t want me to, but I insisted. I like you, Connor. You present like an uncaring playboy, but there is more to you than that, and I was looking forward to drawing it out of you. That won’t happen now.”
“No, it won’t.”
“There will be war. That’s what I’m here to say. I tried to talk them out of it, but my brothers won’t let it stand and my father won’t go easy. I know you probably won’t believe it, but I am sorry.”
I incline my head. I feel nothing but respect for this woman. “I’m sorry too.”
There’s a noise behind me. A guard grunting in warning. Footsteps on the floor, and I turn around in time to see Angie step out of the door, blinking against the sunlight, holding a hand up to cover her eyes.
The ring glittering on her finger.
“The fucking whore,” Fergus shouts, stepping forward, one hand going to his belt, and a dozen guns are raised, and there’s a moment when this could all go very wrong as doors fling open and Gallagher soldiers start to spill out?—
But Sinead holds up a hand. “Stand down, Fergus, you gave me your word, unless that’s worthless now?”
He snarls, going still. “That bastard is parading his whore around in front of you, Sinead. Let me kill him. I swear, let me rip off his fucking head.”
“Later.” Sinead flicks her wrist at him. “Talk first. Kill tomorrow.”
“Fucking hell.” Fergus stares at me, a smile playing across his lips. “You’ll be lucky to survive the week, you traitor fuck. You’re lucky I love my sister.”
He steps back to his place, puffing on his cigar, the uneasy tension cooling.
“Connor? What’s happening?” Angie’s very still, stiff and terrified. I’m going to murder the guard we posted at her door, but come to think of it, that might’ve slipped through the cracks. I draw her to me, wrap an arm around her shoulders, and hold her against my side protectively.
“Angelina, this is Sinead.”
Sinead’s cool, calm gaze takes my wife in, her lips thinned. “You left me for her?”
“That’s right. Wasn’t in the plan, but it happened.”
“A shame, really.” Sinead’s smile is strained as she inclines her chin toward Angie. “I hope you do better than I did.”
“This wasn’t what I wanted,” Angie whispers miserably, her eyes on the ground.
I nudge her chin up furiously. I grit my teeth. “You’re my wife now,” I say, forcing her to meet Sinead’s stare. “You’ll fucking act like it.”
Angie stiffens, but instead of pulling away in fear, she does as she’s told.
There’s another tense moment before Sinead turns away, her wedding dress glittering and twirling around her.
“Best of luck to both of you,” she says, speaking loudly now, clearly meaning for everyone to hear her.
“My family is going to murder you all. My brothers are going to take great pleasure in hurting you and everyone you love. If any man here has sense, he will leave this place before sunrise. You have all been warned. Death is coming, and I do not look forward to it.”
She climbs gracefully into the front vehicle and her oldest brother slams the door shut for her. He grins at me and tosses his cigar into the grass. “Be seein’ you soon, Maguire.”
The three brothers join their sister. The remaining Gallagher forces retreat into the cars. Slowly, the caravan drives off.
“Should’ve killed them,” Deck mutters as he storms off.
But he’s wrong. Murdering Sinead and her brothers would’ve only turned the whole city against us. I’m in the wrong here, and if I killed the woman I left at the altar, I’d truly burn every last bridge I have left.
No, I have to win this war, as fair as I can manage.
“She was beautiful.” Angie’s trembling against my side. She clings to me tightly. “You left her for me? What were you thinking?”
“Sinead Gallagher is a pale imitation of you, angel.” I pull her against my chest.
Angie breaks down. She’s probably been holding these tears in for a while now. She weeps into my chest and I scoop her into my arms. It kills me, watching her like this. A shell of a woman.
She deserves so much more.
To hell with anyone watching. Let them see me carry my wife to the stairs, up to her wing, and into our room. She sobs as I place her in the bed, comforting her the best I can, though I’m the source of all her pain.
“I’ll fix it, angel,” I say softly, stroking her hair, though I know she hates me, and I know her life’s in danger because of me, but I can’t change any of that now.
All I can do is win, protect the people I love, and make sure I don’t poison them even worse than I already have.
Angie’s too precious. She’s always been too perfect to me.
Now that I have her, I’ll die to keep her safe, but I won’t ever let my weakness drag her down to my level ever again.