The Wedding Pact (The O'Malleys #2) (31 page)

“The deal you have going on tonight. I want in.” He held up his hands, not that James was rushing to jump in and fill the silence. “Just hear me out. I brokered this deal, and I busted my ass to get the contacts in place so that these two would trust us enough to bring the shipment in. I deserve to be there.”

Considering he didn’t trust his brother with the women at Tit for Tat who voluntarily worked the darker aspects of their trade, he sure as fuck wasn’t going to trust him with a container full of terrified refugees in God only knew what state. That being said, it wasn’t like he was going to send Ricky off without someone to watch his back—and make sure he didn’t do anything shady. James would be there to ensure things stayed on target, and he wouldn’t look the other way if his brother tried something. Maybe this would be the thing that would get them started on a better path.

Or maybe Ricky was just waiting for him to lower his guard so he could slit James’s throat.

He took another drink of coffee, watching his brother over the rim of his mug. “If I say yes—
if
—then you follow orders. I don’t care if I tell you to strip down buck-ass naked and run through the street, you do it with no questions asked. Understand?”

Ricky gave a sharp nod. “I get it. You say jump and I ask how high. So I can I go or not?”

Fuck, he just wanted to punch the shit out of his brother. The feeling used to be the exception to the rule. Now it was all he ever felt. Whatever friendship they’d had had died with Brendan. Maybe it had never existed in the first place. “Yeah. Talk to Michael about where he wants you.” James would be talking to Michael, too. He didn’t intend on letting his baby brother out of his sight tonight.

“Will do.” Ricky hurried out of the kitchen like he was afraid James was about to change his mind. Good riddance.

He checked the time. Ten hours until the meeting. Too long. He wanted to keep in motion, to keep from thinking about the reality lurking in the back of his mind. Carrigan was gone, and he still didn’t have fuck all for a plan of getting her back.

He made his way to the gym and spent the next hour working his body to the breaking point. It didn’t matter how many reps he did, he couldn’t escape the way his chest hurt with every breath. He felt like the walking wounded, still going through the motions despite missing vital parts of his body. He dropped the dumbbells with a curse. This wasn’t working, and every minute that passed pushed him closer to doing something stupid like driving over to the O’Malley house and demanding to see her.

It wasn’t what a good leader would do. He’d be putting everything he’d busted his ass for in jeopardy for a woman.
Not just any woman.
It didn’t matter. She was one person. He couldn’t endanger everyone under his command for a single person—not even when his own happiness was on the line.

There’s a way around it. There has to be
. He just had to find it.

A shitty plan formed in his mind, but a shitty plan was better than no plan. He put the weight room back into order and then went up to his room to shower and change. Twenty minutes later he was in the Chevelle and dialing his phone.

Teague answered almost immediately. “I didn’t expect to hear from you again.” Not outside of formal negotiations.

James drummed his fingers on the wheel. “I’m not going to make excuses for what happened before. I should have done something differently—something
more
.” They’d seen each other since the night Callista was captive and escaped with Carrigan in tow from his family home, but he and Teague hadn’t really talked. He got it that the man hated him. He’d hate anyone who willingly put Carrigan in danger, too. He shook his head. “I fucked up. And I’m sorry for that.”

“You did.” He sighed. “But there were more than a few fuckups to go around. You could have stopped Callie’s escape before it even started and you didn’t. That means something.”

All he’d done was step aside. It had felt like a risk then, but looking back it was nowhere near enough. He should have escorted them out. “If I could go back—”

“I know. Me, too. We can’t go back. We can only go forward.” Teague paused, the sound of a woman’s voice in the background. “But you didn’t call today to apologize and shoot the shit.”

“No, I didn’t.” Now that he was on the line, though, he wasn’t sure what to say. Teague might not hate him, but he was a long way off giving his blessing for James to steal Carrigan away. He probably wouldn’t respond as violently as his other brothers, but no way would he think James was good enough for her. Hell, he was right. But there was no one else to turn to. He had to man up and broach the subject, and hope that Teague hated the idea of his older sister married to some Russian from New York as much as James did. “You know your old man’s making Carrigan marry some stranger.”

“I’m aware.” And pissed as hell if his tone was anything to go by.

It was now or never. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

The silence stretched into one minute, and then two. Finally Teague said, far too calmly, “I might have lost my fucking mind, but you seem to be insinuating that you and my sister have something going on.”

Oh yeah. Teague was pissed as hell.

James scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not what you think.”

“Talk fast, James—talk really fucking fast.”

He weighed his words. They had to be the right ones. If Teague wasn’t in his corner, then he was in this shit alone. But, really, there was only the truth. James had never been all that good at pandering, and he wasn’t about to start now. “I love her. It didn’t start out that way, but sometimes you have to take these things as they come. I’ve never met a woman like her, and I could go the rest of my life and that would still be true.” His breath caught, and he didn’t bother to hide the feeling that welled up. “She’s everything, Teague. You get what I’m saying?”

More silence. He let it go, knowing that he couldn’t rush the man when it came to this shit. Finally Teague cursed. “Goddamn it, you don’t ever take the easy road, do you?”

“You know me better than that.”

“Yeah, I do.” Another pause. “And Carrigan? What’s she got to say about all this?”

She left me
. He clenched his teeth together. “She’s doing whatever it takes to keep everyone around her safe, even if that means walking away from me.”

“Well, hell.” Teague cursed again. “I’ll help if I can, but you know as well as I do that my father isn’t a man to cross. Are you prepared for the consequences?”

War
. The very thing they’d all busted their asses to avoid over the summer, and now he was considering running headlong into it. This was different, though. Carrigan was worth it and more. “Yeah, I’m prepared.”

“Then sit tight and don’t do anything stupid. I’ll see what I can find out and get back to you.”

He started the Chevelle. “Teague?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” He hesitated. “If you want to go get a beer when this is all over, first round’s on me.”

“I’d like that. Now stay the fuck out of trouble until I call you.”

Easier said than done. He wasn’t the type of man to be comfortable sitting on his hands, but at least he had other shit to occupy him. James glanced at the clock. A few short hours until it was time for the meet up. He checked on Michael, but it looked like so far so good.

He was too fucking realistic to hope that the rest of the day would go down without a hitch.

Chapter Twenty-Three

D
mitri’s man drove them down to the Mandarin Oriental, and he didn’t say a word the entire drive. Not that Carrigan expected him to. What did he have to say? He’d won. He’d gotten everything he’d wanted, and he’d put her father in a position of being grateful to him. It really was brilliant.

Not that she was ever going to say so.

She climbed out of the backseat before the man had a chance to open the door, and looked around the parking garage. “How long will we be here?”

“Tonight. I have some remaining business to take care of in Boston before we return to New York.” Dmitri offered his elbow, and she forced herself to take it. She might resent the hell out of him, but she knew when to hedge her bets. She was marrying him, whether she liked it or not. Getting them started on the right foot—as much as possible—might mean more freedom for her down the road.

I hate this. I hate that I can’t choose a man for myself. I hate everything
.

Her fingers itched for her phone, and the thing she wanted most in the world was to hear James’s raspy voice over the line telling her that it was okay and he’d be at her side in no time. It would never happen again. God, that hurt.

Dmitri led them up through a set of elevators to one of the absurdly large suites. Everything about it was opulent and expensive, all with a vaguely Asian theme that didn’t quite commit to any specific culture. She made a beeline for the kitchen, finding a bottle of vodka stashed in one of the cabinets. Why wasn’t she surprised? She poured a healthy splash into a tumbler and then poured some more. Alcohol wouldn’t do anything to change her circumstances, but it’d numb her to some of the sharper aspects of it for tonight, at least. If that was the best she could do, then she was going to happily do it.

If I hadn’t gone and fallen for James, would I be so upset about marrying Dmitri?

She didn’t know. That was part of the problem. She’d never been on board with this whole marrying-a-stranger plan, but at least she understood the Russian. He was a cold bastard, but she could be cold, too.

Or so she’d thought.

She glanced up as the glass touched her lips to find Dmitri watching her. “What?”

“Nothing at all. Help yourself.” It irked her that he had her over a barrel in every way that counted, and all the while he’d never once lost his polish and poise during the whole process.
My fault
. Knowing that didn’t help her mood a damn bit, but there it was. She’d made her bed and now it was time to lie in it. It didn’t matter if she’d been forced into a corner by circumstances beyond her control.

She tightened her grip on the glass, trying to remind herself why this was all necessary.
To keep James safe
. She’d screwed up last night and let her heart get the better of her head. Dmitri didn’t seem like the kind of man to be forgiving, but if he was going to make an exception this time, she had to do whatever it took to make sure that happened. No matter how much she hated the thought of playing subservient wifey to him.

He motioned around the room. “Feel free to make yourself at home. I have a few business calls to make. Afterward, we’ll order a meal and have a conversation.”

Peachy
. She forced a tight smile. “I look forward to it.” How much vodka could she drink before he got done with his calls? Enough to muffle the soul-searing pain demanding she go running back into James’s arms? Somehow, she doubted it. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world.

But that wouldn’t stop her from trying.

Is he going to expect me in his bed tonight?
She couldn’t play the blushing virgin wanting to wait for her wedding night. He’d already more than proven that he’d done his research when it came to her—not to mention that she’d put this entire thing in jeopardy for one more time with James.

I didn’t even get to say good-bye
.

She took another healthy gulp of the vodka. Dmitri wasn’t ugly or gross, but the mere thought of his hands on her body made her stomach lurch.
I don’t know if I can do this
. If she hadn’t had a taste of how good things could be with James, she’d probably be able to fake it with Dmitri. Or, more likely, she wouldn’t have had to fake it at all. He seemed like the kind of man who knew his way around a woman’s body. Before she’d experienced how good it could be when her heart was involved, that would have been enough for her.

She wasn’t sure it still was.

“Perfect.” Dmitri pulled his phone out of his pocket. “My men won’t come into the room, but they are stationed at the doors. I don’t have to tell you not to do something ill advised.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t deign to answer it. His threat to James kept her in place, and he damn well knew it. “Don’t worry about me. The most damage I’ll do while you’re busy is to your vodka.” Maybe a little distance from him would let her get her game face back into place. She was in the middle of a death spiral, and that was unacceptable. This was a man who would capitalize on any weakness, and she’d more than given him enough ammunition in the last hour. It was time to get back onto the playing field. Carrigan braced herself, smiled, and touched his arm, letting her hand linger there even though she was dangerously close to having the vodka she’d drank make a reappearance. “I want to thank you.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t have to show mercy.” She made herself move closer. “I’m very,
very
grateful that you did.”

His expression didn’t so much as twitch. “Good.” He turned and walked away, cutting an imposing figure in his perfectly fitted suit. Though he hadn’t technically agreed to anything, he was a smart man, and a smart man would know it was more important to secure her obedience and loyalty early on, rather than exact petty revenge to assuage his pride.