Chapter 2
CORMAC
I can’t remember the last time I went outside.
It’s of my own doing, and the mere fact that in this day and age I can get everything I need delivered to the door.
I’m accustomed to my lifestyle. Comfortable in my solitude. Unfortunately, my father let me know last week that my life as I know it is about to change.
He’s tired of me staying to myself. Says that I need to take a more active role in the workings of our family.
Shit I don’t care to do.
It’s just more death, more threats, more evil.
There’s no getting away from it.
Even now, as I sit in the parlor room, staring at the roaring fire that is the only source of light, I can feel the air in this mansion starting to change.
Almost as if it were alive, getting angry. Pissed that others were moving into the space that it carved out in the world as its own.
My father has sent me a miniature army of security personnel, most of whom will come back and forth daily just to make sure I’m safe. I have my dogs, but they are well trained, and I only need to see them twice a day to feed them.
Apparently, taking a more active role in the family means that people are going to start taking a more active role in me. My father thinks I’ll have more enemies than I know how to deal with.
I doubt it.
No one wants to mess with the beast that resides in this broken-down mansion. They’re all too scared to even approach the gate.
This mansion has been in my family for generations.
It holds all my memories. Mainly all the bad ones.
But though I’ve been here all my life, I can hardly ever remember anyone from the town stepping foot on the property.
I guess the rumors had spread far enough that they all knew better than to come up here.
The only people who even bother to come to the gate are the delivery people, and that’s only to drop off whatever packages I’ve ordered and to run back to their vehicle.
My pulse rockets through my body, faster than usual, as I wait for the doorbell to ring. I’m not used to having guests, but I guess I’m going to have to adjust. There’s no way I’ll let my father think he was right about me. I don’t want him to hold any more power over me than he already does.
The seconds tick by, and a brutal wind whips through the house, seeping from a hole in the roof that I’ve yet to get fixed.
Just as I begin to get myself under control, the doorbell clangs and my body tenses.
So far, all of the security personnel know to stay out of the main house unless I order them to come in. They patrol and walk the grounds, making sure there are no breaches in security.
Pushing myself out of the oversized chair, the floor creaks as I make my way to the large front door.
I pull it back only slightly, just enough for me to peek through the slit it creates.
My eyes have to adjust to the sun, and I squint as I look out at the large man standing there.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen him in person, but I’m happy to see him nonetheless.
I grunt and open the door fully so my youngest brother, Killian, can walk in.
“Big Mac, how you doing?” he jokes before he pulls me into a hug I wasn’t prepared for. I let him hold me for all of five seconds before I push him away gently.
“Don’t call me that,” I grunt before I turn and start walking back to the parlor room.
“Jeez, you forget to pay the light bill or something?” he remarks behind me as we walk down the hall.
I blink a few times and look around. None of the candles are lit.
The lights are off. Not that I’ve forgotten to pay the light bill, I’ve just grown accustomed to the dark.
It’s always felt better to me this way. If I don’t turn on the light, I won’t have to deal with the ghosts that lurk around each corner.
“Did you come here for something specific, or are you here to talk shit? You can definitely talk shit on the porch.” I grumble and turn back into the parlor. I go back and sit in my chair.
When I look back up at Killian, his face has turned ashen white.
I swallow hard for a second. “Does he hear them too? See them staring from the corners?”
Of course I know there’s nothing there. At least that is what I’m told. It’s all in my mind. The haunting and spirits of all those who died in these walls are nothing but a figment of my imagination.
No one will call me crazy to my face, but I guess it makes sense. The scarred freak should be out of his mind.
“What?” I question, almost scared of the answer.
“That’s… That’s father’s chair. The one from the back half of the house. I thought everything in that room was burned away.”
My eyes drift to the overstuffed chair, the fabric ripping away after years of abuse. The smell of smoke and death still lingers in the cushions. My father always used this chair, especially when he was ready to dole out punishments. I used to hate it, but now I can’t part ways with it.
“Nope, one of the only things that made it out in one piece. It’s a good chair.” I pat the armrest, and a small puff of dust comes wafting out of it.
“Yeah, if you say so.” Killian runs his hands through his hair before he stuffs them into his pockets and stares at me.
“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here? I’m sure whatever our father wanted, he could’ve told me over the phone.”
“I’m not here specifically for our father. I just wanted to make sure you really knew what was going on. I’ve gotten some information that involves you.”
My eyes jerk up to his; his eyes settle on the scar on the side of my face.
I can’t blame him. It’s a sight to see. Something I haven’t seen in more than a decade.
I refuse to look at my reflection. I don’t even shave anymore.
“What information? I already know about the added security. They’ve been walking around, making noise.
Bothering me.” The words come out more like a complaint than a statement.
“Yeah, I’ve seen them too. It’s good that you have someone around here. I always worry that—”
“That the monster will waste away with no one to hear him scream out for help?” I finish his sentence.
“Goddammit, Cormac. I wish you’d stop calling yourself that. You’re not a fucking monster. You’re a man. Just like me.”
The chuckle bubbles out of my throat, and I can feel the scarred part of my skin stretching with the abnormal movement. “A man? I’ve never been just a man. Father made sure of that. I went straight from boy to this. I’ve accepted it. Maybe you should too.”
“I won’t accept it.” Killian takes a step back, and he looks me over once, slowly, as if he’s reconsidering what he’s about to say.
“You know what. When I heard about father’s plans, I was sure that it was a bad idea.
No one should be forced to do that, but now that I’m in your presence, I’m starting to think maybe it isn’t such a bad idea after all.
Maybe this is exactly what you need to get out of this never-ending pity party.
” He pulls his hands out of his pockets and crosses his arms over his chest.
Now I’m intrigued. Forced to do something? What more can my father possibly do to me? He’s already thrown me headfirst into the business. I’m doing as he asked, but now my brother is standing here telling me that there’s more.
“What is he going to force me to do?”
A million possibilities fly through my head. He could force me out of the mansion. Force me to go back to the old country, Ireland. He could have me take the fall for someone else. He could have me kill someone.
“He’s chosen a bride for you. You’re going to be married, Cormac.”
Even the wind is silent as my brother says those words.
Married?
Wife?
What the fuck!
Never in all my life would I ever think that my father would go to this extent. I can’t allow it.
“Married. Get the fuck out of here. I’m not marrying anyone.” I shake my head and push myself out of the chair, getting closer to Killian.
“You don’t really have a choice, as far as I’ve heard. It’s already a done deal.” He shrugs, and that only pisses me off more.
“Done deal, my ass. Who the hell did he get to agree to this? Who would want to marry someone like me?”
“This is the pity party I’m talking about.
What do you mean someone like you? You were injured.
It was traumatic and life-altering, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are still human.
Still a man. What? Do you think a scar on your face has cursed you or something?
Has it stopped you from having desires or needs?
There’s nothing wrong with you, Cormac.” Killian puts his hand on my shoulder, and it takes everything in me not to shake him off.
I know he’s only trying to comfort me, but right now I don’t want to deal with that.
I want to know what crazy plans my father has made for me.
“Who is it?” I ask through clenched teeth.
Killian drops his hand to his side and sighs hard before he says, “Brenna Doyle. You’re going to marry the princess of the Doyle crime family. Father says it will strengthen an alliance between the two families that will last generations.”
I shake my head before I turn and look back into the flames licking the inside of the fireplace.
Of course this is for the family. Never for me. Never my wishes. I’m just here on this earth to make sure the O’Sullivan name remains strong.
I only hope my father and this woman know exactly what she’s signing up for. Usually, when my father gives an order, it’s followed without question, but this one must be challenged.
A challenge that I cannot issue over the phone.
If I want to make any change, I’m going to have to see my father face-to-face.
I’m going to have to go to the motherland.