Highly Doubt That
CULLEN
“Why couldn’t you give your marriage a chance?” he asked. “Why wouldn’t you? You think I was in love with your mother before I married her? It was an arranged marriage, but we got to know each other. We built love.”
“Yeah, right,” I coughed sarcastically.
“If you had given your marriage a chance,” he went on, “and got to know your wife even a little.... if you could just forget that your brother’s wife is not in love with you, that she is married to your brother, and move on from that... you would have been happy. We wouldn’t even be dealing with this right now. If you had gotten to know her, and the two of you didn’t match, then maybe you could have said something about it. But you were a coward. You were afraid.”
“I wasn’t afraid,” I said, my voice rising. “I’d break....”
“Yes, you were,” he interrupted. “You were afraid of letting your heart out. Afraid of giving love a chance.”
“She is an outsider?” I said sharply.
“She is a Cincinnati,” he said firmly.
I stared at him. “Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?”
He let out a short laugh and shook his head. “You are your mother’s son...”
Before he could continue, the door opened and Cyrus walked back in. My father kept looking at me as if something had been left hanging between us. Cyrus looked between the two of us, then down at his hands.
Finally, my father turned to him. “All clear?”
Cyrus nodded. “Yes, everything is in place. I got a meeting.”
“Good,” my father said nodding, then added. “Sit down, the both of you.”
We both took a seat, on opposite sides of the room. I don’t even know when it happened when we went from being inseparable to not being able to stand each other. But here we were now.
My father looked between Cyrus and me, something shifting in his expression before he finally spoke.
“When did it come to this?”
We knew what he was asking, but neither of us answered.
“Where did it go, from the two of you growing up together, playing together, running around together, Cyrus protecting his younger brother, Cullen looking up to his brother to ....to this?”
He shook his head, his voice heavy with disappointment. “What went wrong? What changed?”
I don’t know what it was in me at that moment, but I guess I was in a detonating mood. I said the obvious.
“Bella happened.”
Cyrus shot me a look. My father turned, visibly startled by the name, almost like he was checking to make sure she wasn’t nearby.
He wasn’t expecting that reply from me. But then again, it was the truth, wasn’t it?
My father sighed and shifted in his seat. Then he leaned forward, his tone calm but firm.
“I want to remind you....I want you both to know that the two of you are blood. You are my only two sons. My only heirs.”
I was just about to remind him that I wasn’t, that his golden son sat on the other side of the room but I bit my tongue.
“You two should have each other’s backs,” he continued, “because you are all you have. Remember that we are blood. We are born of blood, and we will die in blood... You two share the same blood flowing through your veins.”
He paused, scanning both our faces.
“Now, I don’t care if the two of you don’t get along. I don’t care if you can’t stand each other. You are going to protect each other, and you are going to be there for each other. Because that’s what we are. A family.”
His voice hardened. “The same blood runs in all of our veins. We are the men of this family and we protect this family. And by extension, the women in our lives.”
As he finished, he gave me a pointed look, then turned that same look toward Cyrus.
Not that it was a pillow-soft message, anyway.
Then his expression turned even more serious as he continued.
"Now," my father said, his voice steady, "I wanted your mother to be here for this because she's the one who somehow knows how to control the both of you. She knows how to talk to you, how to calm you down."
He sighed. “But unfortunately, she’s not here. The two of us had a discussion, and we thought it would be better if we talked it out, if we finished our family problems in this room, in this house, before we go out there and face everyone...”
I frowned. What the hell was my dad talking about?
He kept looking me in the eye, then turned to look at Cyrus, and back again—like he was trying to drive home that whatever he was about to say, it mattered. It was serious. But what could be more serious than my wife lying in a hospital bed? Or the war brewing with the Irish? Everyone whispering behind closed doors because they knew—the moment Sarah died, it would all be done.
"Your mother,” he began again, “is at the hospital. Because Ryan Sullivan has not left since the moment he came to see his daughter. His sons come and go, bringing him whatever he needs. But him? He’s been by Sarah’s side the entire time.”
My father paused. “I think... I think he believes we’re going to do something to silence her. Maybe finish her off. Or maybe... maybe he just really loves his daughter. I don’t know.”
Cyrus snapped. “I highly doubt that.” muttered something under his breath. I turned and frowned at him.
Cyrus then explained, calm but firm. “We gave Bella a phone. We’ve been tracking it. She’s only called her dad twice. Both times, he brushed her off. I don’t think a dad who really cares about his daughter would do something like that.”
My father looked contemplative for a moment. “So what are you saying?”
“Maybe he’s just looking for a reason to start a war,” Cyrus said. “Maybe he’s always wanted one and this is his excuse.”
Father rubbed his jaw, still thinking, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. He seems so genuine.”
“As genuine as Cullen is going to be acting,” Cyrus said. “Maybe he’s just a great actor.”
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