Page 36 of Dark Succession (The O’Malleys #1)

J ames stalked through his house, ignoring the way his conscience seemed to dog his heels.

The time for regrets and second-guessing had passed.

His fucking idiot of a brother had solidified that when he’d decided to prove his worth by killing one of the O’Malleys.

There was no taking that back, even if James never would have given the order himself.

It didn’t matter that he’d planned on using O’Malley’s oldest daughter as leverage to stop this shit in its tracks.

O’Malley’s oldest daughter.

Carrigan.

He turned the corner, picking up his pace when he heard male voices in the room he’d left her.

Goddamn it, nothing was going right. He threw open the door, finding Ricky and two of his men circling Carrigan where she was cuffed to the chair.

James didn’t like the look on their faces one fucking bit .

Ricky leaned in, close enough to touch. “I killed that piece-of-shit brother of yours. I shot him down in the street.”

Fuck.

She flipped her hair, hitting him in the face. “Liar.”

He jerked back. “Bitch, I’ll show you—”

“ Enough .” All four of them froze, and James didn’t blame them. He barely recognized the growl as his own voice. It sounded like it’d come from someone else.

From Brendan .

Before that realization could really freak him the fuck out, he strode into the room. “You three, get out.”

Ricky leered, though he didn’t look nearly as confident as he had two minutes ago. It was all a song and dance for his boys—show no weakness—just like their old man taught them. But he was scared of James now. “I’m just giving the bitch what she deserves.”

Don’t call her that . He clenched his teeth to keep the words internal. “Get. Out.”

Ricky hesitated, and finally laughed. “You want her first. I get that. But me and the boys want a turn when you’re done.”

What the hell had happened to his sweet little brother who needed protection? He didn’t recognize this man—this monster. But then, James barely recognized his own reflection in the mirror anymore. Brendan’s death had changed all of them for the worse.

It didn’t matter, though. Brother or not, the only way Ricky would lay a hand on Carrigan was over James’s cold, dead body. He waited, letting that truth seep over his little brother’s face. Ricky’s eyes went wide, and he practically scrambled out of the room .

The door shut, and James sighed. He’d pay for this later, just like he’d paid for taking the whip to his brother’s back.

Maybe Ricky still would have gone after the O’Malleys personally…

but maybe he wouldn’t have. He finally looked up to find Carrigan watching him.

She didn’t look particularly afraid, which would be what he’d expect of a woman held captive by her enemies.

No, she looked furious.

“You have me here, so what’s the plan? A little torture, maybe with some rape thrown in for shits and giggles.

” Her voice didn’t waver, and hell if he didn’t respect her for it.

She must have been terrified out of her damn mind, but she wouldn’t show a single slice of weakness that could be used against her.

It had to cost her to keep it hidden—he of all people knew the cost of keeping that kind of thing locked down.

“No.” He moved around behind her to check the cuffs.

They were tight enough that she couldn’t squeeze out, but they weren’t rubbing her wrists raw.

He fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked them.

He couldn’t leave her here, because he couldn’t afford to be here with her every second of the goddamn day, and it was glaringly obvious that he couldn’t trust her with anyone else. “Come on.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

He ignored her, hauling her to her feet by her upper arm. It felt wrong—so fucking wrong—to manhandle her when he couldn’t get those stolen moments at the club out of his mind. James shook his head, as if the motion could dislodge the feeling of her clenched tight around his cock.

It didn’t help.

He wanted her again, more than he’d wanted any woman he’d ever been with. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense, but even having his hand on the bare skin of her arm was enough to have his body roaring to life. Only ironclad control kept him from showing exactly how deeply she affected him.

She was the one woman he couldn’t have.

He marched up the stairs and threw open the door to his room. It was the only place in the house that he’d guarantee no one would fuck with when he wasn’t around, so it was a solid choice. But he couldn’t shake the almost primal satisfaction of seeing her surrounded by everything his .

Damn, he was losing it. He had to get his head on straight, because one fuck—even as mind-blowing as it’d been—didn’t change a thing. She was the daughter of the enemy, and he’d just kidnapped her. There was no possibility under the sun in which she didn’t hate him.

Carrigan walked further into the room, and he couldn’t help noticing exactly how little that tiny excuse for a dress of hers covered. It barely touched the bottom of her ass, and that curve was enough to make what little blood was left in his brain course south.

“Stop staring at my ass.” She stopped next to his dresser, seemingly fascinated by the shit thrown across the top.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Does your daddy know you leave the house dressed like that?”

She snatched the lamp off the dresser and spun.

James barely had time to register to move when she threw it at his head.

He got his arm up just in time to take the blow but, fuck, that hurt.

Carrigan wasn’t done, though. She snatched the heavy ashtray he used to keep change in and flung it at him.

“My daddy is going to skin you alive when he finds out what you’ve done.

” A boot hit him in the shoulder. “And I’m going to enjoy watching. ”

That was enough of that shit. He caught the second boot and dropped it just as she grabbed the second heavy lamp on the opposite side of the dresser. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Or what?” She brandished it, moving a step closer. “You’re going to hurt me? Please. I know how this works, James . It’s going to happen anyway.”

He hated that she said his name with such venom, but he wasn’t about to become her whipping boy—deserved or not. “Drop it.”

“I don’t think I will.” She swung it at his head.

He caught her wrist and wrenched the lamp out of her hand. “Christ, just stop.”

“Just lie back and take it, and it’ll be over soon?

Not fucking likely.” She fought harder, trying to break away, but he wasn’t about to let her get access to more shit to throw at him.

James dragged her to the bed and tossed her onto it.

He cuffed her hands to the headboard before she had a chance to hit him again.

It was only then that he registered exactly how terrified she was. He froze, taking in the little shudders working their way through her body and her too-wide green eyes. “Carrigan—”

“Just do it, okay? Just… get it over with.”

He jerked back. “I’m not doing shit.”

Her eyes were full of accusations and her anger practically crackled against his skin. “You have me here and helpless. You don’t have to play that role anymore.”

“I’m not playing a role.” Even if he felt like it more often than not in the last few days. “No one is touching you.” He’d fucking kill them if they did.

“Whatever you say.”

It bugged him that she didn’t believe him, like a piece of sandpaper beneath his skin, scratching away every time he breathed. “You’re safe here.”

She laughed in his face. “And you’re obviously delusional. I’m not safe.” There was something in her words, something that made him wonder if she was talking about this specific situation or in general.

There was nothing he could say to change her mind. Hell, he didn’t blame her for expecting the worst. He knew the reputation his old man had for prisoners, especially when he wanted to prove a point. It didn’t matter their gender, either.

But he still found himself wanting to reassure her. “Carrigan.” He waited for her to meet his gaze. “You’re safe here. I swear it.”

She turned her face away. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, Halloran.”

Callie kept telling herself that it was time to come clean. Saying “I do” to Teague without his knowing about Brendan was selfishness of the highest order. There was no way he’d marry her if he knew the truth.

But she couldn’t make herself say the damning words.

She wanted everything she’d said before.

She wanted Teague. He’d been with her every step of the way through this nightmare, even if he didn’t know the full story, and he’d proven time and time again that there was no better man in the world out there for her.

She couldn’t let that go. She cared about him too much.

She wasn’t particularly proud of that realization.

She knew how she’d feel if the fault of Ronan’s death had been laid at the feet of anyone else.

There was no forgiveness. Not for that. She might not have been out for blood, but she would have effectively cut the responsible party off from everything they cared about.

She would have done her best to break them.

She couldn’t expect Teague to react any differently, no matter how much her very heart cried out that she could trust him.

She’d been responsible for his brother’s death.

It didn’t matter if it was indirectly or not.

He opened the door for her, his dark eyes filled with things unsaid. “Are you ready?”