Page 98 of Stolen Mafia Vows
I want to believe him. I believed everything he said when I first met him, but he was holding a gun while Olivia had a knife to my throat, and it’s hard to think about him killing another human being. Taking a life. Even if it means saving mine.
“Did you … kill Olivia?” I whisper, not wanting to hear the answer.
Before he can reply, another voice cracks the air around the poolside, and I feel the tension in Eoghan’s chest muscles as he holds me more tightly.
“No, I did!”
22
EOGHAN
Pa seemsto materialize from nowhere, striding slowly towards us, a revolver in his hand.
When Olivia was shot, my only thought was to save Emily. One slip of the knife that the other woman was holding to her neck, and it would’ve been game over. I wasn’t going to stand around and watch that happen. I wasn’t going to let a crazy woman with a grudge against the Murrays kill the woman I love.
So, I dived into the pool before Emily’s dad and brothers could react. Through the water that was already cloudy with blood, I could see Emily struggling to get free, and instincts took over. I was focused on saving my wife, not on the person who fired the bullet.
Olivia, in the struggle, punched Emily in the back of the head, and her body went limp. I thought I knew what fear was, but I’ve never experienced anything like the fear I felt in that moment when I thought that Emily was going to die.
Which is perhaps the reason why it takes me by surprise when I find my father’s weapon aimed directly at me. The Murrays and I came here with a common goal: save Emily and prevent a war that would cause unnecessary bloodshed. But it’s immediately apparent that my father arrived with his own agenda, and it takes several beats too long for me to figure out what it is.
I help Emily onto her feet. She leans against me for support, unsteady on her feet, her body trembling violently. I wrap my arms around her and whisper into her ear, “Go to your dad, Emily. Everything will be alright.”
With a nod at Terry, I release Emily from my embrace, and she stumbles across the decking, almost collapsing into her dad’s arms.
Once she’s safe, I turn my attention to my father. “Pa, put your weapon down. It’s over.”
He takes another step towards me. He’s close to the deep end of the pool, and I scan the area behind him, realizing with a sharp jolt of guilt, that he’s alone because our foot soldiers are already here on my orders.
“It’s over when I say it’s over.” His cheeks are gaunt; he looks as if he’s been surviving on brandy alone since Ruairi died.
“I know how you feel, Pa, but?—”
“You don’t know shit, son! You didn’t wake up one day to find that your son had betrayed you.”
“I have never betrayed you, Pa.”
“You don’t care about your brother.” His eyes are bloodshot; his voice dulled with the weight of his emotions. “You never cared about him. You think I don’t know that?”
I want to go over there and hug him, but at the same time, all my insecurities about being the son he didn’t need come rushing back, threatening to flatten me before he even pulls the trigger.
A glance at Emily, watching me from the comfort of her dad’s arms is what drags me out of my own head and back to the moment. It doesn’t matter if my pa blames me for what happened to Ruairi or for joining forces with the Murrays. What’s important is keeping Emily safe. Giving her a future without bloodshed, without fear and secrets and guilt.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Pa, but you’re wrong. I miss Ruairi too. I miss hearing Hothouse Flowers blasting from the speakers in his room. I miss him thumping me on the back and making me spill my coffee. I even miss the way he rolled his eyes every time I spoke, and talked over me just to wind me up, and refused to listen when I tried to get involved in the family business, because that was who he was. He was loud, and arrogant, and self-centered, but he was still my brother.”
Pa blinks and twists his nose from side to side as if trying to halt a sneeze in its tracks. “Great speech, son.” He clears his throat. “But I don’t believe a fucking word of it.”
I inhale deeply, holding the air in my lungs. “I asked you to give me some time, and I’m grateful that you did. But there will be no war, Pa.”
He moves closer, his eyes darting between me and the Murrays who are all following the conversation intently.
“I didn’t kill your son, Mr. Byrne.” Caleb speaks up.
Pa aims his weapon at him, raising it so that he can set his target, and I hear Emily gasp. “Is that so? You may have fooled my youngest son, but it isn’t going to work on me.”
“I’m not trying to fool anyone.” Caleb’s expression gives nothing away, and his voice is steady and calm. “My wife and I just celebrated our daughter’s first birthday. Killing your son and starting a war after three decades of peace between our families couldn’t be further from my mind.”
“Ruairi was on his way to meet you.” Pa narrows his eyes, focusing on his target. “It was the last thing he told me: I’ve got a meeting with Caleb Murray. He wants me to come alone.”
