Page 1 of Redeem Me

Chapter One

CAELON

June

It’s been seven hundred and eighty-four days since my wife died. Two years, one month, and twenty-four days of unescapable wrath, rage, and an unquenchable thirst for revenge. No amount of whiskey, wine, or nameless, faceless women have been able to provide an escape – believe me, I’ve tried.

Though truly, I don’t deserve an escape.

I deserve to spend the rest of my life consumed by Isabella’s death. If she hadn’t married me, she wouldn’t have been caught up in the violent feud between my family and the O’Connors, a feud that’s spanned generations. She’d still be living, breathing, laughing, loving.

‘Perhaps it’s time you went home.’ James, my older brother, pushes a crystal tumbler towards the redhead manning the black marble bar, but I snatch it, clutching it like a lifeline.

We’re in the darkest corner of Elixir, Dublin’s trendiest new bar. At thirty-four, I feel too old for trendy, but Dermot, my best friend, convinced me to meet here. The place iswedged, the music’s too loud, and the drink is overpriced, but it beats bumbling around a house that, no matter how many people visit, will always feel empty.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ I raise my voice over the music. ‘Dermot’s on his way. I haven’t seen him in weeks.’

Other than my four brothers, Dermot is my only friend. We met five years ago at an exclusive gentlemen’s club, but he’s the friend I’d phone if I needed help hiding a body. The friend who would swear on the Bible I was with him any time and every time. The friend who consoled me through the guilt and shame the first time I fucked a woman after Isabella died. The only person, other than my brothers, who has a key to my house. He’s my ride or die. And tonight, I’m in desperate need of a ride.

A short-lived lust-fuelled high. A hot body to press against my cold heart.

I lean in towards the barmaid. She’s pretty. Curvy in all the right places. Big green eyes. She’s no Isabella. No one is. But I could sink into the softness of her skin, shut my eyes, and pretend for a while.

A love like I shared with Isabella only comes around once in a lifetime. I’m not stupid enough to look for it again. The only thing I’m looking for is to kill the bastard responsible for her death. Not just the pitiful excuse of the drunk, drugged-up human, Danny Bourke – the man lying in a coma after ploughing headfirst into Isabella’s Range Rover so hard and fast that we had to have a closed coffin funeral. I want to kill Jack O’Connor, the man who put him up to it.

But first, I want to see him rolling on the ground, writhing in agony, pleading for his miserable life.

I want to torture him for days, weeks, maybe even years before I even contemplate ending his suffering, because my suffering will never end. And the prospect of violent vengeance is the only thing keeping my frozen heart beating.That, and our two children, Owen and Orla. I do my best for them. It’s nowhere near good enough, but I’m nowhere near the man I used to be.

Since Isabella died, we’ve been through eight nannies, nine goldfish, and approximately five hundred takeaways. I’m not proud, but we’re alive to tell the tale.

James exhales heavily. He nods to the barmaid to fill up my glass with Beckett’s Gold, our family’s whiskey, and the original source of our family wealth. We’ve branched out since my grandfather’s time, but the whiskey empire continues to generate the majority of the family fortune.

‘I’ll have one more, but that’s it. Scarlett will string me up by the balls if I’m not home in time for the dream feed.’

‘You have enough staff to start your own army,’ I remind him.

‘She insists on doing everything herself.’ James rolls his eyes, but his lips curl upwards at the mere mention of his fiancée’s name.

‘Who the fuck even are you?’ I turn to my brother, formerly the country’s hottest billionaire, and the playboy starring at the centre of multiple sex scandals, which involved several company employees. Now he’s with Scarlett, he’s like a fucking teddy that Barbie put together in a Build-A-Bear factory –big wide smile, starry eyes, and a laugh that’s almost infectious. Almost, unless you’re the most miserable, grumpy, hateful bastard on the planet, which, in case you haven’t gathered, I am.

James and Scarlett have had two babies in two years. The minute the first child vacated her vagina, he banged the next one in. The entire world knows my big brother can’t leave his fiancée alone.

I remember what that was like. How, no matter how many times I had Isabella, it was never enough. Envy blooms in mychest, mingling with the wrath and rage, intensifying my need for revenge.

‘I’m your older brother, and the man who promised our mother I’d get you home in one piece tonight. But if Dermot’s on his way, I’ll pass that responsibility onto him.’ James tosses a hundred euro note on the counter and tells the barmaid to keep the change. ‘Any luck finding a new nanny yet?’

‘The agency’s sending someone on Monday.’ I snatch my drink up to my lips and down the contents in one mouthful before handing it back for a refill. The redhead hesitates, glancing between James and me.

‘Try not to terrify this one,’ James sighs, nodding at the barmaid to pour.

A gaggle of giggling women flock towards our dark corner, nudging closer. James glowers in their direction and they simultaneously step back.

Cock block. Even a miserable man has needs.

I tear my eyes from the women and meet my brother’s stare instead. ‘I wouldn’t have had to bite her head off if she was any good at her job.’ Truthfully, none of the nannies were the right fit for our family. I doubt anyone ever will be.

‘Look, I don’t need to tell you that kids need stability. Especially after everything they’ve been through.’ James’s eyes fall to the floor. ‘I’m so sorry for you, Caelon. For what happened to Isabella. I can’t even imagine your pain, but your kids need the fun-loving father who chased them round the garden with the watering hose. The father who used to make forts under the dining room table and hide with them. The one who made them laugh so hard their stomachs hurt.’

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