Corrupted Union(5)
Author: Jill Ramsower

 

“We’re in a good spot, Pop. Don’t think this is necessary.”

 

“You seen her?” he continued pushing.

 

“I have, and she’s hardly more than a kid,” I said more forcefully than I should have.

 

Pop eyed me, then shrugged, though I didn’t buy it. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it would be better if Tor got to know her. They’re closer in age.”

 

I knew I wasn’t going to like what he said.

 

The youngest son of my uncle Tully was a professional fighter. He was ambitious but surly on the best of days. The thought of him pursuing Rowan made me irrationally angry.

 

“I’ll work on convincing Alexander,” I said through clenched teeth. “Leave Tor out of it.”

 

My father’s keen eyes studied me. “I trust your judgment, son.” He patted my shoulder and nodded. “It’s gettin’ fuckin’ cold out here. I’m going back in.”

 

“I’ll be there in a second.”

 

“Take your time.” He knocked his knuckles against the vinyl siding and let the storm door slam shut behind him.

 

I blew out a long, steamy breath, but it didn’t ease the tension coiled in my neck and shoulders. I needed a drink. A tall one. Instead, the back door opened again, signaling I had company. I looked back to see my cousin Oran’s wife.

 

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize anyone was out here.”

 

“You’re welcome to stay,” I said, halting her retreat. “There’s room for both of us.”

 

Caitlin was a lovely young woman—quiet but perceptive with an easygoing demeanor and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Back when marriage between our families had first been brought up, Oran and I as the two eldest grandsons had been offered as options. My cousin quickly volunteered himself for the match. He was eager to situate himself at the head of the family, and the two seemed to get along well. It hadn’t bothered me until the recent death of his father, Brody Byrne. That was when my suspicions set in.

 

Oran had been the only one to know Brody changed his plans that day. It could have been a coincidence that the Albanians happened upon him leaving the club, but my gut told me it had been a setup. When I’d mentioned my concern to my father, he’d been so overwhelmed with grief that he immediately dismissed the notion. He didn’t even want to entertain the possibility. Three months later, we still hadn’t spoken of it. He might have forgotten, but I hadn’t.

 

Caitlin wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned against the stair rail. “I’m still not used to so many people in one house. I had to take a breather.”

 

“I’m used to it and still have to take a breather.”

 

She hadn’t been gifted an easy road in life. Mother died when she was young, and her father was killed not five years ago. Their family business had dwindled, and she’d had to sacrifice herself in marriage to unite what was left of her family with ours. It wasn’t a pretty business, but she’d handled it admirably.

 

“How’s your brother?” I asked.

 

She nodded, the first hint at a real smile ghosting her lips. “He’s good. Working hard, as always.”

 

“Yeah?” I encouraged, hoping she’d hint at what he’d been up to. I was curious how the Donovans were surviving at this point.

 

“Yeah, Oran’s really been helpful with contacts and giving Flynn direction. I see good things for him in the future.”

 

Interesting. It sounded like Oran had embraced the alliance, which I’d been doubtful about, considering I’d seen him not six months ago sneaking around with another woman at our club. It seemed with each passing day my perception of my cousin was dwindling for one reason or another.

 

“That’s good to hear.”

 

She smiled, her teeth clenching to fight back a shiver. I shrugged off my jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

 

“You’ll need this if you’re going to stay out here any longer.”

 

“You going back in?”

 

“If I don’t, Nana will come looking for me,” I said wryly.

 

Caitlin chuckled. “I’ll be in shortly.”

 

I squeezed her arm. “No rush.” If I were her, I wouldn’t want to hurry back to Oran’s side either. I had a really fuckin’ bad feeling things with him were going to get ugly … sooner rather than later.

 

 

 

 

 

“I didn’t realize you’d come up here yesterday. We could have made the trip together.” I tried not to sound annoyed as I followed Stetson up the stairs of his father’s ten-thousand-square-foot brownstone. The place wasn’t five minutes from where my parents lived, which meant I’d made the trek two days in a row from the West Village to the Upper East Side. It was only a half hour, but still. The travel time had eaten up a chunk of my weekend.

 

“It was a last-minute thing. Dad got back from a trip and asked if I’d stop by for dinner. It was just easier to stay here.” He turned around at the top of the stairs and pulled me into a hug. “I’m glad you came, though. Our schedules haven’t meshed up well lately.”

 

He was right. Though, to be honest, neither of us had made much of an effort to align our busy schedules. We’d known each other so long that it made our relationship different from other people’s. Even though we’d only started officially dating a year ago, we weren’t ridiculously obsessed with spending every minute together. I’d known Stetson since middle school. Our fathers were longtime friends, so we saw each other regularly growing up. Dating had felt like the natural progression of our relationship, and our fathers hadn’t exactly been shy in their hopes that we’d get together. When I told Dad that Stetson had asked me out, his smile could have turned night to day.

 

“I had hoped to do some studying today, but I figure I can squeeze in a few hours in the morning before class.” I gave a hint of coyness to my smile, peering up at him through my lashes.

 

Stetson was cute in a boy-next-door sort of way. His light-brown hair was thick with short curls, and his golden-brown eyes lit with a mischievous glint I found endearing. Tall and lean, he was surprisingly athletic for his height. After being on his varsity team all four years of high school, he now played field hockey for a club team. More than anything, though, Stetson was comfortable. Easy. We both knew what to expect from one another and seemed to like it that way.

 

“You always ace your classes,” he teased. “One night off won’t hurt anything.” He gave one last squeeze, then released me to walk down the hallway. “Come on, Duke is about to play. Preseason starts tonight,” he called back to me.