Chapter 3

"Are you leaving?" I yelled, my voice bouncing off the high ceilings. "You have fifty armed guys downstairs! Send them! You know exactly what tonight is. It's our wedding night!"

Eamon didn't argue. 

"Her parents died for my father, Fiona," he said, his voice low but absolute. "I can't ignore this."

I saw red. "If you walk out that door to chase after her, don't bother coming back."

He stopped. He turned around, strode to the closet, grabbed my trench coat, and tossed it right at my chest. 

"Put it on," he ordered. "You're coming with me."

"What?"

"I'm not leaving my wife alone tonight," Eamon said, buttoning his shirt with quick, sharp movements. "But I owe the Dugans my life. We find her together. When it's over, you can hit me, curse me, shoot me—I'll take it all. But right now, we go."

The anger stuck in my throat. He wasn't abandoning me for the orphan. He was dragging me right into the mess with him. 

"Fine," I snapped, shoving my arms into the sleeves. "ut you owe me a wedding night."

The night air at the Boston docks felt like swallowing crushed glass. Freezing rain lashed against my face. 

Eamon's hand wrapped around mine. His grip was like a steel trap. 

"Let go," I muttered, trying to yank my fingers free. "I can walk."

"The planks are slippery," He just tightened his grip. "I'm not losing you in the dark. Keep up."

We reached Marnie’s seaside cabin. 

The old butler stood on the porch, his face pale as a sheet. He held out a piece of perfumed pink paper. 

"She left this, Boss," the old man stammered, his hands shaking. "Said she's jumping off the pier to be with her folks."

"Split up," Eamon barked. "Check the jetties. Drag the water if you have to. Nobody goes home until we find her."

The men scattered, sweeping the main pier with heavy metal flashlights. 

Idiots. 

I grew up around mobsters and con artists. A girl pulling a stunt like this doesn't go to the main pier. She wants to be found, but only by the leading man. 

I turned my back to the crowd and walked toward the jagged, unlit rocks on the east side of the bay. 

The waves crashed violently against the stones. The wind howled off the Atlantic. 

I stepped around a rusted cargo crate and heard it. 

"Eamon?" a soft, hopeful voice called out over the wind. 

"Sorry to break your heart."

Marnie sat on a dry, sheltered rock. 

Her face dropped instantly. "Why are you here? Where is Eamon?"

I crossed my arms, letting out a harsh, dry laugh. "You really pulled all this just to get his attention? Faking a suicide on your own turf? Are you stupid, or just pathetic?"

Marnie jumped to her feet. "You don't know anything! We grew up together! My parents took bullets for him!"

"Yeah, I heard," I said, taking a step closer. "And he paid that debt by feeding and clothing you for twenty years. You're not his wife, Marnie. You're his charity case."

"If you hadn't shown up, I would be the one in that white dress today!" she screamed, pointing a manicured finger at my face. "I am the lady of this house!"

"Wrong," I spat back. "Our marriage was arranged before you were even born. You were never in line. Even if I died tomorrow, he wouldn't marry you."

I stepped right into her space, looking down at her. 

"Listen to me very carefully," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Eamon is my husband. He is my man. Not yours. Play in the ocean all you want, but don't expect him to dry you off."

I turned my back on her. The show was over. I had confirmed she wasn't dead, and I wasn't going to waste another second freezing in this wind. 

"Fiona."

Her hand clamped onto my arm like a vice. 

I turned around, annoyed. "Let go of—"

Marnie stepped right into my face. The innocent facade was entirely gone. 

She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear. 

"Let's play a game," she whispered. 

"If we both fall in," Marnie hissed, her grip tightening, "who do you think Eamon will save first?"

Before I could throw a punch, she shoved me. 

She didn't just push. She threw her entire body weight against my chest. 

The world tilted sideways. I hit the freezing water. 

The cold punched the air right out of my lungs. Ice-cold saltwater rushed into my mouth and nose. The heavy wool of the trench coat Eamon gave me instantly soaked through, dragging me down like an anchor. I thrashed violently, kicking against the heavy, dark current pulling me under. 

"Help!" Marnie shrieked, her voice echoing perfectly over the crashing waves. "Eamon! Help! We fell in! Help us!"