Page 40 of Dark Succession (The O’Malleys #1)

Papa, I am so terribly sorry. I was the one who killed Brendan Halloran. This war is my fault, and it has gone on far too long. I’m going to set things right. I love you, and I hope someday you can forgive me .

There was more, so much more, but she made herself set the pen aside and walk to the door. She paused for one last glance at the room where there’d been so many father-daughter talks. Papa was strong. He’d survived Ronan’s death. He’d survive hers. She had to believe that.

Oh my God, I don’t want to do this. She shoved the thought down deep, wishing she could do the same with the fear making each step harder to take than the last. Turning herself in didn’t mean a clean death.

If it did, maybe it would be less terrifying.

The Hallorans would make an example of her.

She knew what that would entail, every excruciating detail of it.

Callie didn’t want to die. Not when she’d finally started to live .

She moved through the house, pausing to touch photos here and there.

The one that caught and held her attention was one of her and Ronan, taken barely a month before he’d died.

He had his arm around her shoulder and they were both grinning at the camera like fools.

It had been one of the last carefree moments of her life.

She touched it. I’m finally doing the right thing, Ronan.

It might not be what you’d have chosen and it might have taken me far too long to get around to, but I’m going to make things right.

Her fingers itched to dial Teague, but what would she say?

That this was all her fault and she’d spent all this time with him and never told him the single damning truth that might make him hate her?

That she wasn’t the woman he thought she was?

She didn’t know if she could stand to hear the caring leach out of his voice and be replaced by a cold stranger.

And if it didn’t happen?

If he somehow miraculously forgave her…

She’d be putting him in the position of having to choose between her safety and the safety of his entire family and everyone they protected. And no matter which way he chose, he’d bear the guilt for the rest of his life. She loved him. She couldn’t let him shoulder any more than he already did .

No, this decision was hers and hers alone.

She walked out the back door and made a beeline to the garage.

She picked the vehicle closest to the door—the Escalade she’d driven for her date with Teague.

It hurt to think back to how good that had been, to how uncertain she’d been of him.

And now they were married. She touched the ring on her finger.

Teague would be okay, too. He might care deeply about her, but he loved his family.

He would survive. That was all that mattered.

As long as Callie did what it took.

She took a deep breath and drove out of the garage.

It wasn’t a long drive into the Halloran territory, and she took the most direct route.

The mix of old and new gave way to smaller and smaller homes, all sandwiched in together.

She pulled up to the curb next to the pub where Teague had met James Halloran before.

James was the best bet she had of the trade-off actually happening.

Teague trusted his word—or at least he had before the drive-by shooting that took his brother’s life. Could she trust him?

What if it’s all for nothing? What if they don’t let Carrigan go? What if I turn myself in and it makes things worse?

If she was going to sacrifice herself, it couldn’t be for nothing.

She refused to let it be for nothing. Which meant she needed a contingency plan in place.

She took a shuddering breath and went through her phone, looking for the information she’d saved there after she graduated from college and officially stepped into a leadership role within the family.

As Papa had taught her, it paid to know her enemies, and not all of them were on the same side of the law as the Sheridans were.

But first she had to say her last good-bye.

Teague waited while Aiden got the footage going. It wasn’t the best quality, but it’d give them more than they’d had before. And at this point, he couldn’t afford to turn away from a potential lead. He leaned over, squinting at the computer screen. “Is there any way you can clear it up?”

Aiden shot him a look. “I’m not a computer expert.”

No, that had been Devlin. Grief poured through Teague. He gritted his teeth, trying to ride out the pain. Carrigan needed him to stay focused, no matter how hard it was. “Fast-forward to around one a.m. They found his body pretty quick, and I don’t get the feeling she stuck around.”

His phone rang as a woman stumbled out the back door. He answered without looking at the screen. “Now’s not a good time.”

“Teague…”

His attention sharpened. “Angel?” The woman onscreen lifted her head and, even though the video was grainy and she was in the distance, he knew that face.

He knew every line of that body, barely covered by the skimpy dress.

Teague shook his head. He had to be wrong.

There was no fucking way Callie was the person who’d killed Brendan.

He was so focused on trying to figure out who the woman really was, he forgot he was on the phone.

“I just wanted to say good-bye.” Callie’s voice slammed him back into reality.

“Good-bye?” Even as he said the word, he knew. “Don’t you fucking dare. ”

Her laugh was filled to the brim with hopelessness. “I did it. I killed Brendan. It wasn’t… I didn’t go in there planning to do it, but I was the one who pulled the trigger. This is all my fault. Your brother died because of what I did.”

Teague flinched. He might have been willing to lay the blame at the faceless killer’s feet, but the truth was that there was plenty of blame to spread around.

“If we’re going to blame you, then let’s heap a load onto the Hallorans because they gave the order, and my older brother because he knew war was a distinct possibility when he and my father agreed to marry me off to you.

And, fuck, let’s blame me, too. Because I knew what the danger was and I didn’t get Devlin and the girls out of town. ”

“If I hadn’t gone to that club, none of this would have happened, and you know it.”

Maybe not, but she’d be dead. He knew enough about Brendan to know that. Maybe not right away, but he would have killed Callie at some point. “Come here. We’ll talk about this.”

Her sigh was so faint, he barely heard it. “I can’t. You’ll convince me there’s another way, and I won’t do what needs to be done. I won’t let another person be hurt because I’m too much of a coward to step forward.”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“No, Teague. I didn’t call for that.” It sounded like a car door opened and background noise whispered through the line as she must have stepped onto the street.

“You’ll be okay without me. This was… God, being with you was like being in a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

Even though the world’s been falling apart around us, I’ve been happier in the last two weeks than I have in a very long time. Because of you. ”

His throat burned, but he swallowed past it. “Callie, don’t do this.”

“You’ll be okay, Teague. I promise. This isn’t the end for you. You’ll survive and your family will be safe. I’m only sorry I didn’t do this a week ago.”

Before Devlin died.

His brother was gone. There was no getting him back. Teague couldn’t lose Callie, too. “Angel, please.”

“Promise me it stops here. Promise me that you and James will sit down and do whatever it takes to make peace.”

He couldn’t do it. If she died, he’d set the world on fire in retaliation. “Callie, goddamn it, it doesn’t have to be this way. We’ll get James here. We’ll figure this shit out. Just give me some fucking time to find a way around this.”

“I—” Her voice caught. “I have to go. I love you.” And then she ended the call.

Teague redialed, gripping the phone so tight he was afraid it’d crack as the call rang and rang. It went to voice mail, and he redialed again. This time it didn’t even ring. “Fuck!”

“What’s going on?”

He turned to find that Aiden had paused the security footage with the woman in the middle of the screen. He pointed. “That’s my wife.”

Aiden swung around so fast, it was a wonder he didn’t fall out of his chair. “That’s Callista Sheridan ?” He shook his head. “Wait, wife ?”

“I married her last night.” He frowned at the screen.

He should have seen this coming. Hadn’t there been bruises on her throat less than twenty-four hours after Brendan was killed?

Hadn’t she been reluctant to talk about it time and time again, changing the subject every time he brought it up?

Goddamn it . He’d thought that it was an ex-boyfriend or that she’d gotten into a rough situation.

In what reality would he have connected the dots to guess that she was the one to put Brendan out of his misery?

Even now, with her confession ringing in his ears and her grainy image on a tape in front of him, he was still trying to wrap his mind around it.

Every cell of his being rejected the idea that she could kill someone in cold blood.

He dialed her again, already knowing that it’d go straight to voice mail.

Her phone was off. She wasn’t going to give him a chance to talk her out of this.

“I never would have guessed.”

“You and me both.” He stared at the image, half-sure that it’d morph into one less familiar. “She had bruises on her throat the night we announced our engagement. He choked her.”

“I’ve heard that’s how Brendan got his kicks.”

Had he… Fuck, Teague couldn’t think the words.

Callie hadn’t acted like a woman hurt in that way.

Not that he was an expert. But even taking into account people dealing with that kind of assault in different ways, he didn’t think she’d have let him near her if she’d been hurt like that .

He released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “What if it was self-defense?”

“Do you really think Victor Halloran cares? His son is dead, and it sounds like she’s responsible.”

Victor might not care but Teague cared. He looked at his brother.

Aiden had aged years in the last few days.

The hard exterior he presented the world was cracked and flawed, and the exhaustion was starting to leak through.

If Teague had half a brain in his head, he’d go to the FBI and throw both himself and Callie on their mercy.

But they hadn’t done shit to help him before now, and he couldn’t trust her life in their hands.

He never thought he’d trust Aiden again—not after what he’d done to put them all in danger—but desperate times called for desperate measures, and twenty-seven years of looking up to his older brother weren’t something he could shake off in the space of two weeks. “I need your help.”

Aiden didn’t hesitate. “Anything.”