Chapter 13 Callie never thought it could be like this. She lost herself in the sensation of Teague's hands on her hips, his cock filling her completely, the jagged sound of their breathing intermingling in the shadows of his room. Then he reached between their bodies to stroke her clit with his thumb, and her entire body caught fire. "Oh God." He did it again. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the delicious pleasure building in her core. Each stroke of his thumb was timed to her sliding down his cock, and it pushed her closer and closer to the edge. "I can't-" "Yes, you can." He caught her moan with his mouth. "Come for me, Callie." Hearing her name on his lips like that-almost worshipful and yet so damn possessive-sent her hurtling into oblivion. She clutched his shoulders and cried out, her hips bucking. She was vaguely aware of his fingers digging into her hips as he followed her over the edge, and then she slumped down, careful to roll onto the bed instead of his chest. Teague immediately tucked her against him, his legs tangling with hers, as if he couldn't stand the new distance any more than she could. "Damn, angel." Her laugh was a little hoarse. "I couldn't agree more." She had expected to feel the peace she'd come to associate with orgasms connected with Teague, but it was slow in appearing this time. Instead, the realization that she truly cared about this man had rooted itself deep in her being. She kissed him, fear threatening to ruin the moment. She remembered all too well how it had been when Ronan died. It might be a different type of feeling that Teague induced, but the threat of loss was equally devastating. She held him tighter. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." It didn't make the smallest bit of sense for her to have such strong feelings for this man after such a short time, but she couldn't deny it. She wasn't even sure she wanted to try. There were worse things in the world than beginning to fall in love with her future husband. He kissed her forehead. "Nothing's going to happen to me." "Says the man who looks like a human punching bag." Against all reason, he laughed. "Fair point. Fine-nothing else is going to happen to me." "You can't promise that." He tensed, his hand stilling where it had been running through her hair. "I won't lie and say I can, but I'll do everything in my power to see our wedding day. I said that before, and I meant it." His hand resumed its movement, soothing her despite her worries. "I have a plan." "That sounds detailed and well-thought-out." His laugh rumbled against her cheek. "I'm going to find who killed Brendan." Her heart stopped beating and her breath stilled in her lungs. Callie opened her eyes, a strange buzzing in her ears as she stared at the off-white wall next to the bed. Teague was looking for Brendan's killer. Her fingers curled, instinctively withdrawing, but she made herself relax against him again. "James can't guarantee anything-naturally-but it's the best bet to call Victor's vendetta off. If he's trying for peace, then my family can't attack without looking like they made the first move. They lose the moral high ground and potentially their Sheridan support." The words finally penetrated the numb feeling threatening to suck her under. "You make it sound like the O'Malleys wanted this war." "I'm not so sure they didn't." He sounded so grim, she risked raising her head to meet his eyes. "Surely not." "Angel, I say this because you're going to be running the Sheridan empire before too long, and because I care about you-don't ever underestimate either my father or Aiden." He said his brother's name like a curse. "They'll do whatever they think necessary to bring more power under our control, and to hell with the potential consequences." It was obvious he'd recently been disillusioned on that front, or the bitterness would have faded by now. "I'm sorry." "It's not your fault." Guilt flared, bringing with it the horrible mix of fear and panic. Teague was looking for Brendan's killer-for her. What would he do if he realized he'd just made love to the very person he intended to turn over in his attempt to stop this war? Would he drag her from the bedroom and drive straight there? Oh God, this is my worst nightmare come to life. "Angel? Callie, what's wrong?" "Nothing." The response was so automatic, it was out before she'd fully registered the question. And, damn it, he knew it. He frowned, searching her face. "You're lying." She had to put a stop to this conversation, sooner rather than later. Teague wasn't stupid. The longer they spoke, the greater the chance she'd slip up and say something to help him connect the dots. She couldn't allow that to happen. Callie moved to kiss him, but his grip tightened in her hair, keeping her scant inches from making contact. "Tell me what's wrong." She could actually see the peaceful oasis they'd created crumbling around them. "I'd rather not talk about it." "Just like the bruises." His gaze fell to her throat, tracing the pattern that had long since faded away to nothingness. "Teague, please." He seemed to be debating pushing her further. A small treacherous part of her almost welcomed it. The memory of Brendan's death was like a festering wound inside her, poisoning everything around her. It would feel so good to share the burden. But she couldn't risk it. She cared about Teague, but she wasn't sure she could trust him-not with this. Because he was right in thinking that there was a good chance the identity of Brendan's killer would put a stop to this entire mess. If she had a little less self-preservation and responsibility to her people, she might have even considered turning herself in on her own. "You can trust me, Callie." Maybe. She knew he cared about her, but caring about someone he met a few short weeks ago and putting them before the family he so obviously loved, despite his issues with his father and older brother... Those were two very different things. She wanted to tell him. But she couldn't risk it. "It's not that simple." Nothing was simple anymore. "You're going to be my wife." Tension ran through every muscle of his body, though little of it showed up in his voice. "You're safe with me." "I know." In every way that counted-except this one. She couldn't expect him to put her before his family, and the fact that she wasn't sure he would was enough to keep her silent. She lifted her head. "I do feel safe with you, Teague. I haven't felt safe in a long time. Can't we just leave it at that?" He stared, and she held her breath, hoping like hell that he couldn't read every thought dancing across her face. "One day you will tell me." If she did, it would be the end of them. She was sure of it. Callie forced a small smile. "Yes." She hoped he couldn't tell she was lying through her teeth, because she didn't want to fight. No, she wanted their reprieve back with a desire that bordered on desperation. So she kept going, words spilling out. "I promise. I'll tell you one day." He didn't look particularly happy to be put off, but he finally sighed. "I just want to keep you safe." An impossible need considering their current circumstances-Brendan aside-and they both knew it. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips and settled back against him. "I'm as safe as anyone can be in this world." "That's what I'm afraid of." Teague woke up to find Callie gone. He rolled over, staring at the ceiling, not bothering to check the rest of the apartment. She wasn't here. Their conversation last night had been enough to send her fleeing, and he wasn't sure if he should be pissed or grateful that she'd waited until he was asleep to sneak out like a thief in the night. He'd almost forgotten that she was keeping things from him, and he couldn't face down a threat he couldn't see. Whoever had put those bruises on her throat was a threat. There was more to it, something he couldn't shake the feeling he was missing... but that might be paranoia talking. Their current situation was enough to create anxiety in even the calmest of people. It could very well be only that bringing the fear into her blue eyes. But he didn't think so. It was obvious she wasn't going to open up to him, so he had to try a different tactic. Time to bring in the big guns. He reached for his phone and typed out a quick text to his older sister. I'll be home in twenty. Need to talk. Her reply was almost instantaneous. I'll be in the attic. The attic? Was she hiding up there? Worry he didn't have time for and couldn't afford rose. He hadn't forgotten the increased pressure their father had put on her to make her decision. It seemed like the lesser of the issues they were facing, but it wasn't to Carrigan. He had no doubt that was the fear at the forefront of her mind at all times. And he'd left her to deal with it alone. He showered quickly and threw on a pair of jeans and a faded T-shirt. Since it was early on a Friday, there was some small hope that he wouldn't run into his father-or older brother. Teague grabbed his keys, the weight in his chest only heavier with every second that passed. As much as he wanted to rage at Aiden and demand to know when the hell he'd gone and changed, he couldn't do it. Aiden was as much a victim of their father as any of them were. If he had to become a modern version of the man himself to survive... Teague couldn't hate him for that. He just wished it wasn't necessary. Wishing never changed a damn thing, though. He made it home in record time, the traffic surprisingly light. But when he shut the car off, he sat there and listened to the engine tick, the heat of the day slowly seeping in from outside. Bringing Carrigan in meant potentially making Callie vulnerable. He didn't think his sister would betray her, but then he hadn't thought Aiden would willingly orchestrate a situation guaranteed to bring them to war. His sister might love him, but would she throw his fiancée under the bus if it meant a measure of freedom for her? Without a doubt. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Damn it, it was like choosing between the frying pan and the fire. It seemed that no matter where he turned, there was potential danger. He didn't like thinking that his siblings-the only people he trusted in this world-weren't actually worthy of that trust. A knock on the window had him damn near startling out of his skin. He opened his eyes to find Devlin standing outside the car, watching him with concern. "Are you okay?" Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findnøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "I'm fine." "You're not going to roll down the windows and start the engine, are you? Because in a garage this size, I don't think it's possible to actually inhale enough carbon monoxide to actually die." Against all reason, he laughed. "Thanks for the tip." "Anything for my most tormented brother." Devlin opened the door. "In all seriousness, what's going on? You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders and you just realized that you can't carry it." That was exactly how he felt. Trust his youngest brother to cut to the heart of the matter. He'd always been too perceptive for his own good. Even though his first instinct was to beg off or make a joke to deflect the whole conversation, Teague found himself telling the truth. It was something that had been happening more and more with Devlin as he got older. "I'm worried. There are bigger things at stake, but Callie is keeping something from me that might be dangerous." Devlin's dark eyes studied him. "We all have our secrets." Did he know about Finch? As soon as the thought crossed Teague's mind, he discarded it. There was no way anyone could know-especially Devlin. But the flicker of unease wouldn't dissipate. "I want to keep her safe. I can't do that if I don't know where the threat is coming from." "If she's not telling you, there's a reason." "She doesn't trust me." He'd known that, at least in theory, but saying it aloud seemed to make it real. Callie didn't trust him. He rubbed a hand over his mouth. Devlin's smile was a little bittersweet. "And what have you done to earn that trust?" That was the question, wasn't it? He cared about her, but did he trust her completely? Teague climbed out of the car and shut the door. He'd feel better if he knew what she was hiding, but that wasn't a good enough reason to pry the information out of her. Damn it, he was fucking this up. He shook his head. "When did you get so smart?" "When you have five older brothers and sisters, you learn fast on your feet." Teague laughed. "I won't pry the information out of her. I promise." It would mean that much more when she finally trusted him enough to tell him the truth. But that didn't mean he couldn't still talk to Carrigan. With his mother in full wedding planning mode, it was only a matter of time before she dragged his sister to ambush Callie again. "She seems nice." Devlin snorted. "I know that's kind of stupid to say, but it's the truth." "She is nice." And gorgeous and passionate and smart. Fuck, he really was head over heels for the woman. He didn't know if it was a good sign or a bad one that he didn't care that he'd gone and lost his mind where she was concerned. He opened the back door and led the way into the house. "Do you want to get drinks with us sometime and actually get a chance to have a conversation with her?" "Yeah, I would. Though don't say that too loudly in here or you'll bring all three of our sisters down on your head, demanding the same thing." And, just like that, an idea spawned. He grinned. "Devlin, you're brilliant." "You're not the first to say that." He gave Teague a playful push. "Now go hatch your plans. I have a paper due Monday that I need to work on." "Better get an A." Another thought occurred to him. "Hey." Devlin turned. "Yeah?" "You want to get a beer tomorrow?" He suspected he'd been neglecting his siblings recently, and he damn well knew it for sure when his brother's face lit up. "That'd be great. I'll let Cillian and Aiden know." It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Devlin not to, but the truth was he had to face Aiden eventually. And Cillian might drive him up the wall, but he was still family. "Good. We'll go down to Jameson's and have a few beers." He waited for his brother to disappear through the doorway before he made his way up to the attic. Carrigan looked up from a giant box she was digging through when he climbed up the last step. "You're late." "I was talking with Devlin." Her entire expression softened at the mention of their youngest brother. "He's really kicking ass at school." "Good." Though they both knew he wouldn't get a chance to use that web design major any more than Teague would use the master's degree in business that he was working on in his spare time. "How are you doing?" She raised her eyebrows. "I'm the same as I've ever been." Which wasn't a damn answer. He crouched down to peer into the box holding her attention. It was filled with what looked like embroidered handkerchiefs. "What's all this?" "Mother Dearest has me on a wild-goose chase, looking for Grandma Donaghue's second-favorite blue handkerchief to give to your fiancée for the wedding." "Second-favorite?" She shoved her hair back from her face and adopted a stern look and a tone terrifyingly similar to their mother's. "Of course, Teague. We can't be giving that Sheridan girl the best of the best, now can we?" She rolled her eyes. "I've been up here for two hours. Did you know we have four boxes this size filled with handkerchiefs? Why in God's name would we need so many?" They shared a look and said the word at the same time. "History." Teague looked around the dim attic. "I haven't been up here in years." "No one has. That's the point of it being an attic. The only things up here are boxed-away memories and maybe a ghost or two." She dug deeper into the box. "But you didn't text me because you were dying to dig through family heirlooms." No, he hadn't, but he looked around the attic, and couldn't help seeing it as a physical reminder of everything they had to lose. It was entirely possible that Callie's secret wasn't something that could potentially be a grenade, but he wasn't about to place bets on it. Life was far too willing to rise up and kick him in the teeth for him to hope for the best. "How did things go with Callie last week?" She sneezed when a cloud of dust rose out of the box. "She's not what I expected, but I suppose I was a little biased. She managed to placate our mother without insulting her, which is something I've never pulled off, so she's smarter than I gave her credit for. Prettier too." High praise coming from his sister. "Do you like her?" She shrugged. "I don't hate her." He suspected it was as good as he was going to get. "I'd like you to take her out-spend some more time with her. She's going to be family, after all." "If you're trying to endear her to me, comparing her to family isn't the way to go about it." He laughed. "I'm family." "My point stands." But she was finally smiling. "But since you are my second-favorite brother, I will see about some sisterly bonding time." "I appreciate you-" Then he stopped to consider her words. "Wait-second-favorite brother?" Her smile widened. "You're great and all, but Devlin is-" "Devlin. Yeah, I get it." He reached into the box and grabbed a scrap of blue that had caught his eye. "Is this it?" "Oh, thank God, yes." She took it out of his hand and frowned at it. "It doesn't look like much. But, back to Callie, don't worry about it. The girls and I are taking her out tomorrow night." He sat back. "You already planned this before I asked you to, didn't you?" "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." She pushed to her feet and dusted off her skirt. "That fiancée of yours is wound too tight. She needs a little loosening up." Considering he knew exactly what kind of activities Carrigan enjoyed to loosen up, that wasn't comforting in the least. Callie was so restrained and proper-at least outside the bedroom. He couldn't imagine her in the clubs his oldest sister liked to frequent. Not to mention... "You're not taking Keira, right?" Her green eyes were all innocence. "Keira isn't twenty-one. Would I really take her to a place that might corrupt her innocence?" "Yes, you would." He crossed his arms over his chest. "And I don't see Sloan volunteering for that sort of thing, either." "Brother, you constantly underestimate me. It will be as good for Sloan to get out of her shell as it will be for Callie. Now, run along. I have things well in hand." "That's what I'm afraid of." But he recognized a losing battle when he saw one. Carrigan would do what she wanted, despite his wishes. She always did. The only saving grace of the whole clusterfuck was that his sister had perfected getting in and out of these places without being caught. There was no reason to think her perfect record would be ruined tomorrow. No reason except that nothing had gone right in recent memory. He rose. "Be careful, Carrigan. Please." She opened her mouth like she was going to deliver a flippant reply and then closed it. "I always am." It would have to do. He paused to ruffle her hair like he used to when they were kids, her outraged shriek music to his ears. 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