Cormac’s eyebrows raise. “He did what now?” He sounds perfectly innocent and surprised, but a man like Cormac hasn’t survived this long without being able to act on demand.
“Don’t pretend,” I say, putting some menace in my tone. “I know you knew about it already. Everyone in the damn family’s talking. Frankly, it wouldn’t shock me to hear that you were the one to put your pathetic son up to it.”
Cormac studies me, frowns at Tara, and shrugs. “How do you know it was Hugh? Could’ve been a dozen different Hayles. What would I have to gain by my son killing you?”
“Cut the bullshit. I want to know what you know.”
“Believe it or not, my son doesn’t share all of his plans with me. And if he did—”
“You’d tell me, because you’re loyal to the family before your own blood.”
Cormac laughs. “Right, naturally. However, nephew, you’re not the family. Not officially at least. You walked away years ago and my son had to step into your shoes, and now you’re acting as though you didn’t disappear and break your father’s heart. But I haven’t forgotten.” He smiles serenely at me, like a monk meditating.
I crack a tight smile in return and study my uncle. He studies me right back. The man I remember from my childhood was massive and loud and intimidating but these days he’s wan and thinner than I remember and he moves much more slowly than he did back then. Cormac’s in his seventies, and while my father retained some of his energy and vigor all through his life, Cormac seems to have calmed somewhat.
“You’re on the wrong side.” I stare at my uncle and flex my fingers. Beside me, Tara shifts her weight. “Hugh took his shot and missed. He nearly killed several of his own men and wounded two. I cleaned up that mess and made sure his gunmen disappeared. Now I know how far he’s willing to go and what I have to do to win this fight, and you’re smart enough to realize that he won’t come out on top. I’m going to kill him like I’ve killed men like him before.”
Cormac’s lips pull down and he crosses his arms. “How can you be so sure?”
“Hugh’s spent all his life in this house, while I’ve been winning wars for years on the streets. In a battle with no constraints, who do you think will come out alive?”
“You don’t have his resources.”
“I don’t need them. I’m in his house.” I lean forward, showing teeth. “But you’re wrong about the resources. I have more money than I could ever need, all thanks to my new wife.”
Cormac’s eyes flit to Tara. “You heard about the trust then.”
“I’m here to offer you a deal. I know you love your son, old man. You don’t want me to put a bullet in Hugh’s head, and truthfully, I don’t want to do it either. I’d rather take the family without spilling needless blood. I don’t want to win the head of the Hayle family only to spend the beginning of my tenure putting down a civil war. Life will be better and more profitable for everyone if Hugh is smart enough to step aside and accept a comfortable retirement.”
“How do you think I can help you?”
“Talk to your son. Make him see reason. Either that or side with me against him, so when the time comes, I have your support. In exchange, I’ll spare his life.”
Cormac chews on that quietly for several seconds before turning to Tara. “What do you think, young lady? That phrase, a comfortable retirement, that sounds very much like your husband wants to put a bullet in my son’s head no matter what I do.”
Tara doesn’t hesitate. “I’m just the gardener. I don’t have an opinion on this.”
Cormac laughs. “Come now, that’s not true. I remember you from before. I remember you hanging around this house with that troublemaker Cait.” He points a crooked finger at her face and I lean forward, ready to spring and break the old bastard if he makes a sudden move. “You have your hands in more pots than anyone realizes. I’ve seen you lurking around, paying attention. You’re clever, girl, much cleverer than Kellen realizes.”
That gets my attention. I glance at Tara and she’s staring at Cormac with her eyes wide and her lips pulled back like she’s startled, but I don’t understand why she’d react that way. Cormac’s fucking with her and trying to drive a wedge between us—and the best way to do that is to make me doubt her loyalty. It’s such an obvious ploy, and yet Tara looks like she’s terrified of what he’s saying.
“Leave my wife alone, Cormac,” I cut in, trying to draw his attention back to me, but he doesn’t look over.
“You’ve got them all fooled, don’t you?” Cormac cackles and shakes his head. “Oh, yeah, I’ve noticed you, Tara. Always working hard out in the garden. Always hanging around the house. Orin sure did like to take strolls outside, didn’t he? Long strolls whenever you were out there, if I recall right.”
“Stop it,” Tara says, almost at a whisper.
“What did you and my brother used to talk about?” Cormac asks and my ears ring suddenly. I’m not sure if it’s from the gunshots or my blood pressure spiking. “You had some chats with Orin over the years. Long and hard ones from what I recall. There was yelling, oh, yes, lots of it. What did you talk about?”
“Nothing,” Tara says and leans forward abruptly. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Seems like your brain’s going soft with age.” Her fear turns to anger, sudden and bright.
Cormac laughs again. “That’s what you want him to think, isn’t it? But we both know better than that.”
Tara stands and moves away, back toward the doorway. She’s trembling, with fear or rage, I can’t tell, but her hands are shaking and she grips the hem of her shirt to try to calm them down. She looks back at me and shakes her head.
“I’m leaving. I can’t sit here and listen to this.”
“Why’s she running off, Kellen? Does your wife have something to hide?”