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Chapter Twenty-Four – Silus
The moment Thea bursts out laughing, she gets more than one quizzical glance. Even Cormac lifts an eyebrow and slightly lowers the gun—not enough to make me feel comfortable, but enough to be noticeable. I don’t think anyone in the bar thought she’d laugh.
And it’s a hearty laugh, too. Like she just heard the funniest joke she’d ever heard in her life.
Beside Thea, Max whispers, “Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure you should be laughing right now? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are a lot of guns in this room—”
Thea laughs a bit more before she says, “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just… no, wait. I’m not sorry for laughing. I’m laughing because it’s fucking ridiculous all this is over some stupid card game that happened forty fucking years ago.”
Roark stands a good fifteen feet behind Thea, Max, and Cormac, three men around him, their guns trained on Cormac. “It’s not just about a card game. It’s about respect and honor—” As he speaks, Cormac nods in agreement.
“You guys are fucking insane. Respect? Honor? Who gives a shit? It was a game, and it sounds like both your dads were too proud to admit that they either cheated or lost fair and square,” Thea rattles off, much more blasé than I thought she’d be, given the gun currently held against her head.
She continues, “Like, come on. It’s been almost half a goddamned century. Move on! Do something else with your lives! I mean, shit, if you guys teamed up, you could do so much more if you weren’t at each other’s throats. Aren’t you guys supposed to be businessmen? Think about it for two seconds instead of trying to avenge your stupid dads.”
“Hey,” Roark barks out, “our dad wasn’t stupid.”
“Neither was mine,” Cormac says.
I hate Cormac with my entire being. I’ve spent my life hating him because my father taught me to. Anytime Roark and I could do something to antagonize him, we did, and we took great pleasure out of it. To put our hatred aside… I don’t know if something like that’s possible.
But, as I stare at Thea’s face, as her words truly sink in, I realize she’s not wrong. Perhaps feuding and hating each other over a game of cards that took place forty years ago is foolish. Maybe it’s time to be the bigger man and move on.
That said, kidnapping Thea is not something I can forgive—and holding a gun to her head? Cormac deserves a bullet to the brain just for that.
When no one says a word more, Thea demands an answer: “So what’ll it be, huh? Are we going to all die here for literally the stupidest reason ever, or are we going to say it’s water under the bridge and move the fuck on with our lives?” Quite brazen, given the fact a gun still rests against the side of her head.
A moment passes, and then, out of nowhere, Cormac starts to laugh. The man laughs like he’s never laughed before, as if Thea said the funniest thing he’s ever heard in his life. A hearty, belly laugh that makes his men near the bar glance at each other in confusion.
The next thing I know, my brother’s laughing with him. Maybe I would laugh too, but I can’t even crack a grin when a loaded gun is that close to my girl’s head.
“You know, I think I can finally see why you like her so much,” Cormac muses. “She’s ballsy.” As he speaks, he lowers the gun away from Thea’s head. He then looks to his men. “Get out. I want to have a word with the McLeans.”
As his men drop their arms to their sides and shoot questioning glances at their boss, Roark says something totally inappropriate: “Whatever you do, don’t ask him to share her. He doesn’t like that.”
Thea’s head bobs in surprise, and then she narrows her eyes at me, as if I’m the reason my brother has a fondness for sharing. Please. As if I’d ever share her.
Cormac is slow to stand behind Thea, and he gestures to the bar. “Come join me for a little chat. Let’s see if your girl is right and we should bury the hatchet.” He turns his back to Thea and is the first to reach the bar, where he sets his gun down and searches for three clean glasses.
I’m still aiming at him, but my brother lowered his gun, and I can tell by his expression he’s curious as to how this’ll play out. I want to shoot that fucker; I don’t know that I can ever trust him, let alone like him. And Thea being tied up in front of me is one of the reasons why.
He threatened my girl. I can’t just forget that, can I? What kind of man would that make me?
From the opposite end of the bar, Roark calls out, “Your call, brother. What do you want to do?”
Thea glares at me from her chair, the annoyance on her face plain as day even in this dim lighting. The look she gives me tells me if I don’t play it cool right now, she’s going to be pissed. I don’t think she likes the idea of being in the middle of a firefight.
That, and she really does think the reason behind the anger is stupid.
So even though I don’t want to play nice, I lower my gun and tell mine and my brother’s men, “Go.” They’re shocked at the turn of events, but none of them say a word. None of them question my order. The men behind me are the first to leave. Roark gives a nod of approval, and the ones surrounding him exit the premises.
Now it’s just Cormac, Roark, Thea, Max, and I.
Roark taps his gun against his side as he moves closer to Thea. He glances between me and Cormac, clearly unsure, and I tell him, “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.” Obviously, I’m going to free Thea from her restraints before I sit down and share a fucking drink with Cormac O’Connor.
My brother groans, but he makes his way to the bar counter, where Cormac is now picking out a suitable bottle for us to share. Roark sets his gun down on the counter as he slides his tall frame into one of the old bar stools. I hear him ask, “Does this old place even have any good booze?”
I don’t hear Cormac’s response, mostly because I’m too busy rushing toward Thea. After I tuck my gun into my waistband, I work on untying the many knots holding her wrists behind her back and fixing her to the chair.
