Chapter 6 Taryn #2
He closes his eyes, leans his head back against the headrest. Takes a breath. “I know. I believe you.” He turns to look at me. “But, for a few minutes in your doorway, I thought he had, and I was honestly going to kill him. I don’t like feeling like that, so I thought it was best to be clear.”
I don’t have any words. I’ve gone to school with him for almost four years. Liam’s always been this fun, smiling, don’t-take-life-too-seriously kind of guy. Everybody likes Liam because he’s undeniably likable. Yet, he is as serious as a heart attack right now.
“Look. I get that you don’t want this. You’ve made that clear. I’m happy to talk more about that, but I can’t think of a single way to prevent me from putting a ring on your finger later tonight.”
I feel sick. Last Sunday, I was joking around with Elizabeth, arguing about which of the three pizza places near campus is the best. We’d slept in after a girls’ night of movies, skipped the diner, and couldn’t agree on the basics of what makes a good pizza so we could order lunch.
That feels like a lifetime ago. I’m sure my parents were already talking about my marriage at that point.
All while acting as if nothing was wrong.
Like everything was right with the world.
At the exact same time I was rehearsing my speech about Stanford.
How it was only for a few years. How I would eventually come home. All lies. From me. From them.
“We should go inside,” Liam says flatly, and I realize I haven’t answered him.
He probably thinks I’m a petulant brat. Sitting in his passenger seat, sulking.
Truth be told, I kinda am acting like a spoiled princess who didn’t get her way, but it’s not who I want to be.
Yet, becoming Mrs. Liam McGuiness isn’t what I want for my future either.
I’m about to say something when Liam opens his door and shuffles around the car to my side.
He opens my door and extends his hand. I wasn’t expecting the chivalry, but his usually present smile is back.
I offer my hand in return, and we walk into the diner holding hands because he doesn’t let go.
I sort of get it because it’s a bit icy in the parking lot, but he continues to hold on as he waits for us to be seated.
I consider pulling away, but it would cause a scene that I’m not ready for.
I can feel him against my back as we’re led across the dingy linoleum to an empty booth, and it’s impossible not to sense the stares.
My shoulders stiffen from the weight of them.
School is back in session on Monday and it seems everyone has returned from break.
I’m not exactly sure why they all had to get breakfast at the same time as us.
I would have expected this for Sunday brunch but not on a Saturday.
Nothing stays quiet long at St. A’s. According to Sam, we’re all over social media. Just great.
Liam waits for me to slide into the booth before he takes a seat across from me.
He orders coffee while I assure the hostess that I’m fine with just the water.
I’m already over-caffeinated. Liam flips open his menu as if anything about Rena’s has changed in the time we’ve been at school.
He’s biding his time, and I’m sure it relates to the way this morning started off.
“Liam.” I try to keep my voice low, quiet.
I feel like the whole restaurant is listening in.
“I need you to know that I’m not trying to be a bitch.
” His eyes dart up from his menu and he opens his mouth, but our waitress picks then to stop by our booth.
She takes our orders, and I may be crazy, but she seems to be ultra focused on my soon-to-be fiancé.
Her gaze lingers a little too long, as if she’s waiting to catch his eye.
She leans too low to show off her cleavage as she refills his cup.
He ignores her as he continues to study me.
“I know this is difficult for you,” Liam responds, and it takes me a second to realize he means our upcoming engagement, not the waitress’s attention.
“I know I’m not reacting well. I don’t typically get drunk to chase away my problems.” I don’t know why I need him to know that. I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me.
He shakes his head. “You had a rough night. It’s understandable. No need to beat yourself up over it. Besides, the evening is over now.”
I meet his eyes and decide to go for honesty.
“I hate this engagement.” He looks like I slapped him.
I hurry to continue. “It’s not about you, Liam.
I don’t even know you that well. It’s just that—I mean, this is my life.
Ya know? Well, I mean, yeah, of course you get it.
I always thought I’d leave here. Leave this entire life behind.
Become a lawyer. Fall in love. Get married.
Have children someday. I, um, had a timeline.
But, well, more importantly, it was all going to be my choice.
And, now—” I shudder. God. This is so depressing.
“You wanted to leave this life behind? You mean the clan?” he repeats with pure curiosity. “Wait. Did you say you want to be a lawyer? How did you think that would work? With your family, I mean. Or, do you mean that you want to join Rowan’s legal team?”
“I recently got accepted to Stanford Law.” His eyes pop at this and I continue, “I’ve been saving money. For years. I had planned to tell my parents, but then they dropped the engagement news on me.”
He considers this. “Didn’t you think you’d have to marry someone in New York eventually? I mean, why didn’t you want to go to Columbia or someplace nearby?”
I shrug. This is wild. He’s not questioning the lawyer part.
As far as I know, none of the clan’s wives are lawyers.
I’m not aware of a single one with a professional career.
Maybe things are different in Chicago. The truth is, I don’t want to find out.
I already went to the undergraduate college my father chose for me.
Now, I want to forge my own path. Be in charge of my own life.
I don’t want a husband to dictate where I will or won’t work. Who I can and can’t become.
“That’s the thing. I thought if I could escape to California, they might forget about marrying me off too quickly.
I wanted to buy some time. I used to think that since Da wasn’t very high ranking, after a couple years, no one would care if I fell in love and got married on the West Coast. I’m one of six.
I have brothers and sisters who can marry within the clan.
” And that would enable me to have the career I want along with a normal husband.
One who wasn’t going to tell me what to do all the time. I leave that part out.
“Your father isn’t so low ranking anymore, Taryn.”
“No,” I sigh. “But, now that Da is taking on more responsibility with Rowan, I thought he’d be too busy to notice. I honestly thought it could work in my favor.”
I’m not sure what look I have on my face, but Liam’s tone softens. “I do understand feeling a lack of control about your future. I understand wanting more.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand. Squeezes gently.
“You don’t think there’s a way out of this?” I ask him. “Maybe some dowry of farm animals that can be returned so we can go back to how things were before?” I’m joking, trying to lighten the mood because serious Liam is freaking me out, but he abruptly releases me, as if I’ve burned him.
“I don’t know what that would be.”
“So, you’re okay with this?” I lower my voice. “You want to get married? Be the boss in Chicago one day?”
He arranges the plate that was just placed in front of him. Takes a bite of his eggs. Chews slowly. Then, of course, he smiles at me. “Those are two very different questions.”
What? “Explain.”
He nods. “I don’t mind that I’ve been asked to get married. I knew that was coming one day.” I flinch and he continues, “I didn’t expect it this soon, but at least I was gifted a smart, beautiful woman.”
I should take that as a compliment, but I scowl. I’m not an object that someone should be able to gift.
“As far as one day being the boss?” He lifts a shoulder.
“It is what it is. It’s not like I have a choice.
I’ve always known what my future holds. Becoming boss is likely pretty far away anyhow.
I think Da has a few decades left in him.
So, no, I don’t mind that.” He grins before turning serious again.
“I guess what is tough is that I don’t love how my father does business.
I’m nothing like him. My more immediate issue is that I’m not looking forward to graduating and learning how to do things his way. ”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll meet him, and I apologize in advance that he’s an asshole.
He’s also old-school. I’m sure that’s the main reason we have to get married to have an alliance.
He still believes in maiming, bombing, and cutting the throats of anyone who gets in his way.
He still treats marriage like he’s a king in ancient Ireland. It’s all about political gain.”
I shiver. He sounds an awful lot like our old boss, Cormac O’Toole, and Liam must read my mind.
“He’s not as bad as Cormac,” he offers. “It’s not like he randomly kills people because he’s having a bad day. Nah. He just prefers intimidation tactics over newer methods.”
My mouth drops open. My father has told me little about his work.
His world. I’d heard rumblings about Cormac in various places, but he was always more of a boogeyman than a real-life threat.
A monster I never got to meet. The demon you hid from if you knew he’d be at the same event.
The fact that Liam talks about it all so casually is bonkers.
What kind of person gets used to this life?
“And you don’t like intimidation tactics?” My voice is hoarse.
He smiles. Again. “Oh, they have their place. Sure. But there are more strategic ways to get most things done that don’t come back to bite you in the ass later.
You don’t always have to spill blood to make progress.
I mean, yeah, sometimes it’s necessary. But, I’d like to think we could be smarter than that. Any idiot can pull a trigger, ya know?”
My eyes widen because no, I don’t know. I’m aware that organized crime breeds a hard, violent, deadly world. I’m not stupid. But I have spent zero time thinking about the mechanics of it all. Of the various ways to “make progress,” with or without bloodshed.
None of this seems to affect Liam. He shovels in another mouthful of breakfast as if we’re talking about classes or something.
Dear Lord. Who is this guy? What happened to the cartoon Casanova I had created in my mind?