Deklan, Page 2

  Leaning back against the couch, opposite where I sit between my mother and father, is Lucas Elliot. I have no idea what he does in the organization, but I know he was a very important advisor to Fergus Foley. I suppose he’s Sean’s advisor now.

  “I hope you received the flowers I sent to the funeral home,” my mother says, breaking the silence.

  “I did,” Sean replies. He snickers through his nose as he takes a cigar from a box on the side table near his chair. “Thank you for your condolences. My father will be greatly missed by some, I’m sure.”

  Sean rolls his eyes and grins. He pats his front pocket, glances at the table, and then turns toward his bodyguard.

  “Deklan, do you have a light?”

  I nod to myself, hearing the name of Sean’s strongman. With so many people in the Foley family’s organization, I was going to have to focus on memorizing names.

  “Yes, sir,” Deklan responds.

  “Have you decided on a date for the services?” my father asks.

  “The services will be private,” Sean says curtly. He holds the flaming end of Deklan’s lighter to the tip of his cigar, but it won’t light. He scowls at the end. “Family only. We won’t be publishing the time.”

  “Of course,” Dad replies. I watch his lips twitch and wonder what else he wants to say. He’s obviously holding something back.

  “Will we have to push back the wedding?” My mother’s voice is quiet and timid. She doesn’t even look up from her hands as she speaks. “We can, of course. Whatever you need to do.”

  This is her fear. If the wedding doesn’t occur, they are still in the Foley family’s debt, and it’s a debt my parents have no other way of paying. Money laundering might be a lucrative business, but my father has a serious issue with Texas Hold’em, a game he claims to be good at but constantly loses.

  “The wedding will still be tomorrow,” Sean says, and my mother lets out a sigh of relief. Sean tilts his head and grins. “However, there will be a slight change.”

  My father lifts his head with a jerk, staring straight at Sean. I can see his shoulders tense, and my own anxiety is an automatic response. When my father gets angry, someone usually gets hurt. Most of the time that’s Mom, but sometimes it’s just whoever happens to be closest, and I’m sitting right next to him.

  “What change?” my father asks. I can see his throat bob up and down, and he grips his thighs with his fingers, making the knuckles go white.

  “The venue, for one,” Sean says. “With the funeral plans, there’s just no time to set up the garden outside. We’ll hold the ceremony here with a justice of the peace.” He pauses as he taps his cigar into an ashtray, stares at the tip, and tries to light it again. This time, he is successful, and the tip glows briefly as he puffs. “Oh yes”—he uses the cigar to point toward the ceiling—“and the groom. The groom is going to change.”

  Chapter 2

  My whole body goes cold. I realize my mouth is hanging open, and I close it quickly. Dad straightens in his seat, and my mother places her hand over her mouth.

  “But, the arrangement with your father—” Dad starts to speak before he’s interrupted.

  “You mean the dead guy?” Sean’s hollow laugh fills the room as his eyes dance around with their electric flashes. “It’s null and void, Mr. O’Conner. Nevertheless, out of the slim respect I had for the man, I won’t leave you or little Kera here out in the cold, but I have no intention of marrying her myself.”

  I rub at my wrist as a thousand thoughts and emotions run through me. There’s dread—how else will my father pay his debt? There’s relief—I don’t have to marry this man. There’s terror—who does he want me to marry instead?

  “That…that wasn’t the arrangement,” Dad says. “Kera is supposed to become a Foley, not be sold off.”

  “No,” Sean says with a shake of his head, “she’s payment for everything you owe my family.” He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. He stares at my father and grins, showing his teeth. “I already have her in my wallet. How I choose to spend her is completely up to me.”

  I stop breathing. I keep my eyes down, refusing to look up at Sean Foley’s insane, laughing face. I’m reminded of Jack Nicholson in The Shining. My heart is pounding, and my palms are clammy. I shove one hand between my leg and the cushion of the couch and grab my wrist with my other hand, trying to stop them both from trembling.

  In this day and age, it’s one thing to know I’ve been betrothed to someone, but to be referred to as property—not even property, but currency—is another thing entirely. I want to speak up and tell Sean to go fuck himself. I want to say that I’m not on the gold standard, but I can’t. I can’t say anything. The debt is still owed, and there is no way my father can pay it in actual cash. If my father won’t offer me as payment, Sean will take it out on him in some other way. Without funds, my father can only pay in blood.

  Whose? His? Mom’s? Mine?

  When someone else controls the distribution of the cards, you can’t argue the hand you’re dealt. They’re already holding all the aces, and bluffing is futile.

  My gambling father should know that.

  “It’s okay,” I say quietly. Without looking up, I pull my hand from under my thigh and place it on my Dad’s arm. “Really, Dad. It’s okay with me.”

  My father glances at me, and I try to keep my expression in check. I swallow hard and blink to keep the burning in my eyes from turning into tears.

  “Smart girl,” Sean says. I glance up briefly, and he winks at me.

  I shudder and look away.

  “Who…who will she marry?” My mother’s voice is barely audible.

  “I haven’t decided yet.” Sean leans back in the chair and puffs on the cigar as he looks around the room. “Neil won’t work out. I’m pretty sure he’d be caught cheating on her—probably with the pool boy.”

  Sean laughs in his cousin’s direction, and Neil snorts as he shakes his head slowly before taking a big gulp from his glass, draining it. He places the glass on a nearby table, crosses his arms, and taps a shiny brown loafer against the floor. Teagan finally looks up from her phone, staring at Sean with raised eyebrows.

  “How old are you, Lucas?” Sean asks abruptly.

  Lucas takes a step away from the couch where he’s been leaning and tilts his head to one side as he frowns. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times before he answers.

  “Forty-eight.”

  “How much Viagra would you need to keep up with this young, hot piece of ass on the couch, huh?”

  Lucas grins and then leers at me.

  “I might need a few,” he says, “just in case.”

  My father stands before my mother can grab him, and his shoulders tense as he points a finger at Sean Foley.

  “Wait just a minute!” Dad yells. “This is not the deal! This is not what Fergus and I talked about at all! Kera is supposed to be set up for life—a good life—not just paired up randomly! She was supposed to be treated like a princess, and you’re talking about her like she’s a whore!”

  Dad takes a step toward Sean and his chair, and everything happens so quickly that when it’s over, I have to run through it again in my head to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

  Sean doesn’t move as Deklan comes around the wingback chair, grabs my father by his outstretched arm, and spins him around. With one leg, the henchman catches my father near the ankles and takes him to the ground. I hear a click and see a gun in Deklan’s hand, the muzzle pointed at the back of my father’s head.

  My mother lets out a high-pitched squeak and squeezes her eyes shut.

  I’m the opposite. I can’t look away as Sean stands slowly and then crouches down next to my father. Sean tilts his head and smiles broadly at him. Deklan leans forward, smashing my father’s face against the expensive woven rug.

  “Let’s get something crystal clear between us,” Sean says, still smiling. “If it wasn’t for my family, your daughter would be either dea
d or being passed around some rich sultan’s household as a fuck toy. Instead, she’s a pristine little virgin”—he stops speaking to my father and looks up at me—“You are a virgin, right? I mean, you wouldn’t dare present yourself to me if you’d let some high school boy get up in there before I got the chance, would you?”

  I can’t speak. All I can do is stare at the gun now pressed against my father’s neck.

  “Kera? I’m going to need an answer.”

  I finally manage to switch my gaze to Sean’s face, see his raised eyebrows, and then nod quickly.

  “Speak up!” he commands.

  “Yes!” The word comes out as a sob. “I never even went back to high school after…after...”—I take a shuddering breath—“I’m a virgin. I swear!”

  “I thought so.” He turns back to my father. “As I was saying, instead of dead or fucked senseless by a hundred different guys, she’s here, safe and sound, hymen intact, and just waiting to become my bride and absolve you of your debt. The fact that I’ve decided to make a slight change to this deal doesn’t really have an impact on you, so stop your bitching.”

  Sean stands and motions toward Deklan, who releases my father’s arm and pulls him back to his feet. The gun disappears somewhere inside Deklan’s jacket, and he takes his place behind his boss.

  “Now, let’s speak reasonably, shall we?” Sean slides nonchalantly back into his chair, and my father sits heavily on the couch next to Mom. “Your debt will still be paid with the hand of young Kera here. I just need to figure out who the best fit for her might be.”

  Sean rubs his chin in thought, and Dad sits, red-faced and rubbing his shoulder. Mom isn’t even trying to stop the tears running down her face. Though my heart is pounding, I try to keep myself composed. If I have to marry a guy twenty-eight years older than I am, I will. It’s not like I have any real choice.

  If I refuse, my father will probably kill me. If he doesn’t, Sean will. Or rather, he’d have Deklan do it.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to afford all those little blue pills, Lucas.” Sean snickers, and Lucas shakes his head. He shrugs his shoulders and looks back at me. He licks his lips slowly as Sean continues. “I’m going to have to come up with another option.”

  Mom and Dad both look at their hands clasped between them. I sit still, but I keep my eyes on Sean’s smiling face as he looks around the room once more and then looks over his shoulder at the buff man behind him.

  “What are you, Dek? Thirty or so?”

  “Thirty-two, sir.” Deklan narrows his eyes slightly.

  “That’s not too bad. Do you own a tux?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

  Deklan glances at his boss. I can see his forearms tense and his tongue dart out to wet his lips before he responds.

  “Whatever you need, boss,” he says.

  “Well,” Sean says as he stands and reaches up to place his arm over Deklan’s broad shoulders, “I need you to marry that young lady over there.”

  Using his cigar as a pointer again, Sean aims the lit end in my direction as he grins up at his henchman. I hear Deklan mutter something under his breath, but I can’t make out the words.

  “Of course I am,” Sean says softly. “How often do I make jokes?”

  Deklan’s throat bobs as he stares intently at his boss. There is a silent battle going on between them, but Sean’s expression never wavers. Deklan clenches his fingers into a fist but only briefly.

  “If that’s what you need, boss.”

  “That is what I need.” Sean sits back in his seat and smiles at each one in turn around the room. He may be trying to appear friendly with his grin, but his eyes dare anyone to question his decision.

  Deklan nods and glances at the floor. He tightens his hand into a fist again and then crosses his arms in front of his chest. I can see the muscles in his forearm tense through his shirt. He looks up, meets my gaze briefly, and then looks back at his boss.

  “My daughter,” Dad says with a growl, “is not marrying some brute.”

  “Your daughter isn’t yours,” Sean replies with a smile. “Her life belongs to me. Did I not make that clear? She’ll marry who I say she’ll marry, or I’ll have the groom put a bullet between her eyes. Would you prefer that?”

  I watch Deklan shift his eyes toward his boss as he uncrosses his arms and moves his hand closer to his waist.

  Near his gun.

  “Cormick,” Mom whispers as she puts her hand on my father’s arm. With her other hand, she reaches out and clasps my fingers.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” I say again. “Really, it’s fine. I’m fine with it.”

  If I keep saying it, maybe it will be true. Deklan looks at me again, but his face holds no expression. I have no idea what he’s thinking.

  “It’s not,” Dad says softly, but there’s no fight in his tone. “You were supposed to live in prosperity, here, not marry some random…”

  Dad’s voice trails off as Mom grips his arm tightly. He looks at me, his eyes filled with terror, and his mouth slightly open, but I have no words to comfort him. I smile gently, hoping the gesture will reassure him.

  Inside, numbness and shock conflict with panic.

  “Mr. O’Conner has mistaken you for some commoner, Dek.” Sean clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Let’s hope he doesn’t make any more mistakes.”

  My father clasps his hands in his lap and bows his head, defeated. I’m all too familiar with the look. It’s the same look he often has when returning from Vegas or Atlantic City.

  “Aww, don’t look so sad!” Sean grins again and calls to Neil, telling him to pour everyone a drink. Neil passes out glasses of Irish whiskey to everyone but me, and Sean continues. “How about this? You hand me the money you owed my father at the time of your little girl’s ordeal, plus interest, in cash, right now, and we’ll forget the whole thing.”

  I glance at Dad. I have no idea what kind of money he owes to the Foleys, only that it is substantial.

  “Teagan”—Sean turns toward his sister, the math wiz—“starting with the original amount and calculating the interest at the usual thirty-five percent, going back five years, what does Mr. O’Conner owe today?”

  Teagan stares into space for only a few moments.

  “Four hundred twenty-three thousand, six hundred and fifty-four dollars. Rounded.”

  “Quite a chunk.” Sean whistles low and loud. “You got that in your pocket, Mr. O’Conner?”

  Dad doesn’t respond.

  “Then I guess we’ll be having a wedding.”

  My mind is racing, but I can’t make sense of any of my thoughts. Sean doesn’t seem like the same man I had met in the past. He’s not temperate and friendly. In the past, he had seemed nearly submissive at his father’s side. Not anymore. It’s like something in his brain switched on when his father died, and he is now a completely different person.

  A maniacal, insane person.

  “Cheers!” Sean holds up his glass for a second and then quickly downs it with another snicker.

  This can’t be happening.

  Chapter 3

  Flowers lining the path leading up to a white trellis covered in roses, hundreds of guests dressed in their finest as the sun begins to set in the distance, and a huge champagne fountain decorating the vast garden behind the Foley estate—that’s the image I had in my head.

  It’s far from the reality of the day.

  Inside the Foley home is, of course, beautiful, but the sky is overcast outside, and the hallway where I stand with my father is dim and bleak.

  The expression “giving the bride away” keeps running through my head.

  Since the fateful meeting yesterday, I knew this wasn’t going to be a normal wedding, but I figured we’d all at least go through the motions. From ceremony to reception, we would pretend we were enjoying the whole thing. I thought my father would still kiss me on the cheek and tell me how happy he is, but he doesn�
��t.

  There isn’t even any music as we walk into the Foley family study, the same room we were in the day before. I’m decked out in a shining white dress with a long train, my father dressed in his finest, holding my arm, and my mother sitting in the same place she sat yesterday while my father had a gun held to his head.

  She’s wearing the dress she had picked out when I was going to marry Sean. This morning, she came downstairs wearing the black dress she reserves for funerals, but Dad made her change. She initially refused, but the idea of going to the wedding with a busted lip didn’t appeal to her, so she changed her clothes, if not her attitude. The dress was very expensive, and Dad wasn’t going to let her waste it.

  I don’t look at Deklan, but I know he’s in a tux. I wonder if he has to have them custom made, considering his size. I suppose he can afford it, seeing who he works for and what he does.

  Just what does he do?

  Sean is standing up as Deklan’s best man. Teagan is holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand as she stands on the other side of the judge. In her other hand, she’s tapping on her phone.

  Neil and Lucas are here. There are two other men I don’t recognize, but that’s it for the guest list. Those two aren’t even dressed up. Not “wedding” dressed up anyway. They are wearing Dockers and fairly nice shirts but no ties. One of them is wearing dark tennis shoes.

  I’m starting to feel overdressed.

  Dad leads me up to the small group and stands between me and Deklan as the judge speaks, asking who gives this woman to this man. I hear my father mumble an answer, and then he places my hand in Deklan’s.

  His hand is huge, encompassing mine completely as his fingers wrap around it. He rubs his thumb across my knuckles as my head swims. I realize my knees are locked and try to relax my stance before I faint.

  It’s all too surreal. I can’t think. I can’t comprehend that this is actually happening to me. This was supposed to be a fairy tale although a bit of a twisted one. I was supposed to live in the castle with the prince, not one of the prince’s guards.