Page 10 of Malevolent Hearts
I do not agree with a lot of what my father forces upon me, and our visions for the Munster sector couldn’t be further apart. At the end of the day, Dingle will become my kingdom, along with the rest of Munster. One day I will reign. So, for now, I must do what is asked of me, including marrying someone I could never love.
Knowing my father and how he works, I assume he has vetted every girl on this island within my age bracket, searching for a bride worthy of his son. How he landed on this heathen is beyond me. She’s a nutcase, not a queen.
I’ve accepted my fate, truly I have. In saying that, I can’t—and won’t—allow myself to be tied to Gothic Barbie. Hoping to plead my case, I proceed with my refusal before any contracts are signed that’ll tie me to a fucking lunatic. “She held a gun against my temple.”
Beibhinn shakes her head, then, after dropping her fork onto her plate with a clink, she folds her arms across her chest, mocking me with her accompanying eye roll. “There’s no need for all the theatrics, Cadden. It was a pellet gun, not a Glock.”
“Excuse me! I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the make and model, I was too busy worrying about the barrel pressed to my skull.”
With scrunched facial features, Beibhinn fires back, “If anyone is to blame here, it’s you. Weren’t you ever taught to keep your hands to yourself?”
I don’t mention my books, or how she set them alight, because knowing my father, he’d applaud her for destroying the one thing I find any comfort in. He’s never supported my hobby, insisting real men don’t busy themselves with such nonsense. Finn Connelly would be thrilled to know my future bride agrees, which would only serve to tip the scale further in her favour.
Craning my neck, I direct my attention to my left. “Are you saying you agree with this farce? Because I’d bet you don’t have any interest in this marriage either.”
“Well done, Captain Obvious.”
“Children,” My father announces, bringing our bickering to a halt. “I suggest you learn to put your differences behind you. After all, you two will be spending a lot of time together.”
Before I can place any meaning behind my father’s words, Oliver draws my gaze towards him when he lifts his napkin from his lap and drops it onto his empty plate. “Beibhinn, darling, while you were off… exploring, Finn and I decided it would be best for you to get to know Cadden better by spending your summer break with the Connellys.”
In sync, both Beibhinn and I push from the table, palms braced on the top as our protests fly past our lips. Something pulls me towards her, forcing my head to crane until my eyes latch onto hers, both of us staring at one another. Time freezes as we hold each other with nothing but a look. The air in my lungs stills, trapped in place by the icy blue irises that stare straight into my soul.
I’ve no idea how long we stay like that, looking at each other and seeing a reflection of ourselves.
My father’s voice cuts through our stare-down, but we hold our gaze, neither of us ready to cut the connection. “Spend the summer together. Get to know one another. Then in seven weeks, we will sign the contracts for your intent to marry.”
Beibhinn breaks away first, but she doesn’t wait around for the judgement coming from the opposite side of the table, nor does she comment on the demand. Instead, she stomps towards the exit, her black biker boots clunking with every step. The door slams behind her, punctuating her swift departure.
I swallow the lump in my throat as my father clears the tension in the room with a cough.
“Looks as though you two are more alike than you believe.”
Needing to erase whatever the fuck that was from my mind, I mutter, “Doubtful.”
Six
Beibhinn
The Present
All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire.
—Edgar Allan Poe
Once Cadden removes most—but not all—of the ropes tying me to the bed, we sit in silence and share a pizza. He finishes off the slice he took to tease me while watching with amusement as I hog the rest. One might think I’m wasting an opportune time to strike, but I can’t ignore the blaring warning in my gut. Box smart. Play it safe. Be fucking strategic. Believe me, it has taken everything in me not to pounce the second he let me loose—but acting on impulse won’t get me anywhere. Not where Cadden is concerned.
As if reading my thoughts, he narrows his thick brows. “You’re quieter than usual.” He holds my gaze and tilts his head.
“I’ve nothing to say.” Although I don’t hear the laugh, I see the jerk of his shoulders and chest. “Do I amuse you?” I add.
“No, but your lies do.”
Disgust curls my lips while I scan his body up and down. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“I don’t pretend to be something I’m not, Beibhinn. I never have. If I’m being selective with the truth, it’s because you are not ready to hear it.”
“Is there a difference?” Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I hold back the verbal tongue lashing that bitters my tongue. Engaging in a sparring match with him won’t make the slightest bit of difference. Cadden’s beliefs are strong, and if he’s got something in his head, he’s going to run with it, even if he destructs along the way.