Chapter 8 Taryn
TARYN
I kissed him. Or, to be more accurate, I let him kiss me. How did that just happen? In fact, what just happened? Did I agree to the engagement? No. That wasn’t what I said. Was it? It’s just…he made so much sense. And, he told me things that I’d never been privy to before.
Growing up with my father, we all knew better than to ask about his days.
Even on the bad days when he’d come home bleeding, it was understood to keep our mouths shut.
Sometimes, I’d overhear him telling my mother about his job.
Other times—in the church parking lot or at dinner at one of my many “uncles’” homes—I’d hear whispers about the Bratva, the Greeks, or the “Family.” I could never catch enough to fully understand what was happening.
Or why. And, as I got older, I didn’t want to.
First of all, if my mother caught us eavesdropping, there would be hell to pay.
Katie Walsh is not a fan of this new-style parenting that involves talking to your kids about their feelings.
Oh no. She has a wooden spoon that is intimately familiar with my behind and that of each of my brothers and sisters.
In fact, she’d cracked my oldest brother so hard one time that the spoon broke and he didn’t sit right for close to a week.
Second of all, once I made the decision to leave New York, none of it mattered anyway.
I was almost defiant in my complete disregard for anything clan related.
Yet, Liam spoke so casually about it all this morning.
Like filling me in on clan business was no big deal.
But it is. It is a very big deal. I knew the business involved clubs.
I assumed drugs. Maybe prostitution. I kind of thought that was the core business of all our competitors as well.
So, when he mentioned trafficking women? My problems don’t seem so big anymore.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to marry Liam. But, I was distracted after he shared more about the Greeks with me. I would love it if our clan brought them down. If only there were a way to shutter their business in addition to keeping them out of ours.
I’m still pondering it all when my phone pings.
Sam: Hey. Just checking in. Making sure you’re okay.
I groan. The last twenty-four hours have not gone well for Sam and me. He was right this morning when he said we were friends. We are. Or, at least, we were. I’ve really given him the runaround lately. He deserves better.
Me: I’m as good as can be expected. Thanks for checking in. I’m sorry about last night. And this morning.
Three dots bounce for a few seconds. And then:
Sam: I was serious about offering help. If you want to move your money around, let me know. We could liquidate it sooner than planned if you need to run. I could help you get set up.
I suck in a breath. Run? In the middle of my senior year? I bite my bottom lip. Tears fill my eyes because it’s an option. One I hate, but still, an option.
Me: Thank you. I’ll let you know.
I trudge up to my bedroom and flop onto my bed.
I can’t really run, can I? That’s a different proposition now.
It would be actively and openly defying my family.
My future husband’s family. I couldn’t go to Stanford.
They’d drag me home. I’d have to find somewhere else.
Somewhere remote. I sicken at the thought. I hate that I’m in this position.
I also hate that Liam is not the absolute tool that I expected. Him being a semi-decent person almost makes this worse. As if I’m wrong to be upset at my family.
I think about that kiss, which is a mistake.
Now, I can’t get it out of my mind. I ghost my fingers across my lips.
He barely touched me. Unfortunately, I am now wondering what it would be like to really kiss him.
How would it feel if he pressed that hard body to mine?
I groan into my pillow. What the hell is the matter with me?
I mean, he’s obviously easy to look at, and he smells amazing.
His smile is… I need to stop this. Jesus.
I’d like to think I’m better than my hormones.
No wonder Liam sees so much action. I can hardly stand him and I’m lying here, salivating over his lazy confidence and impish smiles.
It’s no wonder so many girls have fallen into his bed.
My phone pings again, and I look down to see what else Sam has to say.
Unknown: You should wear green tonight. It’s definitely your color.
What?
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Who do you want it to be?
Oh shit. No. It can’t be?
Me: Liam?
Unknown: I’m glad you wanted it to be me. I’m thinking of you too.
Of all the…
Me: How did you get this number?
Unknown: You realize we are getting married?
That’s not an answer.
Me: You’re supposed to be finding a way out of that for us.
Unknown: Ah, yes. I’m brainstorming as we speak.
Is he making fun of me?
Me: Good. I look forward to my father telling me tonight’s event has been canceled.
Unknown: Don’t hold your breath, beauty. I like you in green. Not turning blue. See you tonight.
What the hell? I toss my phone onto the floor. I’m afraid of what I’ll say next.
A soft tap on my door draws my attention. “Come in.”
Stephanie peeks her head inside my bedroom. “Everything okay?”
I sigh and motion for her to come inside. “Nothing is okay.”
She nods and moves to sit next to me on my bed. “You guys really do look good together, though.”
She hands me her phone, and there Liam and I are. Our photo is on social media, heads leaning toward each other over a diner table, deep in conversation. She’s right. We do look good together.
I appear to be hanging on his every word, my attention fully focused on his face—his smiling face with its dimples and chiseled jawline. His eyes dance with whatever he is telling me. Like me, he appears enthralled by the person across from him. We look like a couple. A real couple.
“People suck,” I mutter, wondering why nothing can stay private. Like I needed this posted for everyone to see. Like I don’t deserve one fucking weekend of peace to come to terms with what is happening in my life.
“Breakfast looks like it went well?”
I shrug. I don’t know how to respond to that. “It went.”
“So tonight’s the night? Can I do anything to help? Your mother sent a dress.”
Of course she did. I’m sure she’s picturing all of her grandchildren already.
I look over at my roommate. “Tonight is the engagement. But, Rowan said the wedding will be sometime this summer. That means that I have a few more months before things become irreversible.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Did you talk about this with Liam?”
“He knows how I feel. He said he’d try to think of ways out of this.”
Her eyebrows climb to her forehead. “Really?”
“Yep. Really.”
Although, I’m not sure I believe him. What the hell was he going on about at breakfast about being gifted me as his wife?
That was crazy talk. He can’t really think that, can he?
Suddenly, I’m angry again. I bet he was playing me.
He probably isn’t thinking of ways out of this at all.
I have no doubt he expects me to go along with this simply because he said so.
That’s probably how he would expect an entire marriage to go.
Someone who listens to his every command.
Fine. I guess I’ll have to show him who I really am.
And if that doesn’t give him an incentive to find a way out of this, I don’t know what will.