So, the McDades were a male clan, no shock there. Maybe the idea was to protect the females from her. Though Whisper didn’t know the specifics, no doubt her reputation preceded her. The McDades probably shared accounts of her family, just as hers did of theirs. Though there was always a chance a feeble woman such as herself didn’t feature in the tales.
Decoding his gaze at such a distance wasn’t possible. Whether he was judging her or lusting after her, she was oblivious, and didn’t much care that he was difficult to read. He was her husband, sure, but as far as she was concerned, they could maintain this same distance for the rest of their lives. Given his reputation for violence, if she was really lucky, widowhood may feature in her future. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
It was on the tip of Whisper’s tongue to ask her cousins if that was an easy thing to set up when her father rose from his seat at the top of the table. He raised a glass and didn’t do anything delicate like tap a spoon against the crystal. No, her Uncle Dallin took care of getting the room’s attention by calling out.
“Shut it! The lot of you bastards!”
Well, so much for the ladies in the room. Mariana and Paula were used to her family, and if the woman at the other table was a McDade, she’d be used to the same kind of language.
In credit to the room, everyone did quiet down. No one drew a weapon or responded with offence, they just looked to her father on his feet with his glass aloft.
It lowered in time with the start of his speech. “This is a historic day…” Cyrus began.
Whisper smiled. Anything that reminded her of just how important her father believed himself to be brought a smile to her face. It was just so ludicrous. He was a man, like any other. Thinking himself a God didn’t make him one. Though the element of irony in her silent mocking wasn’t lost on her. For most of her life, she’d believed him to be one. There was probably still some corner of her psyche that thought it could be true.
“Our two families have been at war for too long,” Cyrus continued. Whisper picked up her glass to drink, wishing for something stronger than champagne. “This union will bring us closer. We are one family now. Our interests are yours, and yours ours… Solidifying our alliance with this marriage will allow us to move forward. We will share our failures and our successes, which I’m sure will number many.”
It wasn’t exactly a typical father of the bride wedding reception speech. Whisper drained the last of her champagne and filled her glass with more. No one else at the table, or in the room, seemed to be drinking. She made her peace with her actions, figuring she had to catch up. The people at her reception might have been there for a while before the actual wedding party arrived. That was her excuse anyway.
“To the Dohertys and the McDades,” Cyrus said and raised his glass to drink.
The rest of the room drank too. Conversation resumed as Cyrus sat down again. Whisper swept a hand around her glass and gasped in a breath. Before she could stand up, both her cousins grabbed a wrist each, pinning her hands to the table.
“Your father doesn’t want you to speak,” Caelan said, leaning in at her side. “He thought you might try it.”
“It’s my wedding,” Whisper said. “I can do whatever I damn well please.”
The internal door next to the bar opened and a procession of servers came out to begin distributing food. The moment for speeches was over. She turned a glare to her father who was returning her ire.
Already Whisper knew it was going to be a long night and she doubted that signaled anything positive for her future.
Food was plentiful, Whisper wouldn’t have expected anything less. By the time the meal was over, night was beginning to descend outside. The long window at the front of the building, by the entrance, was lit from the outside by the lanterns on the enclosed terrace at the bottom of the stairs. The external space was used by the smokers.
At least, the Dohertys went out the front. Every once in a while, a posse of McDades used the same door the servers had emerged from. Any time the door opened, she expected a burst of light that never came. Whatever was back there, it was no kitchen. With the pillar in the way, she couldn’t see much, but couldn’t say she really cared.
Cousin Miles had left his post to scurry up to the top of the table where he huddled with her father and his.
Mariana bounced onto his seat to get closer. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” her friend asked.
“I only found out this week,” Whisper answered.
Paula leaned over Caelan who was typing into his phone and didn’t seem to mind the skinny woman disregarding him. “You should’ve called us.”
“What would you have said?” Whisper asked, realistic about her friends’ capabilities and limits.
“We’d have said you don’t love him,” Mariana said. “How can you marry a man you don’t love?”
“You don’t understand,” Whisper said, tipping the last mouthful of champagne from the nearest bottle into her glass.
“We do understand,” Mariana said. “How can you say we don’t?”
“You think love matters,” Whisper said. “That’s how I know you don’t understand.”
“He’s attractive,” Paula said, looking over at the McDade table, something Whisper had been trying to avoid since finding the groom leering at her. Caelan let his phone drop to the table. The positive words probably perturbed him. “Though I think I’d be too scared to… you know.”
“You’re too scared of your own shadow,” Mariana said, slipping a hand under Whisper’s to link their fingers. “You know what the Wild One’s like with guys.”
“Yeah, no worse than you,” Whisper said, responding to her friend’s use of her nickname. “Speaking of which, we should go out after this.”
“Uh, you’re not allowed to go out,” Caelan said.
Whisper scoffed and reached over to take his whiskey. “Says who? It’s Friday night. We always go out on a Friday.”
“Yeah, and usually don’t get home until Sunday… sometimes Monday morning,” Mariana said, dropping her head onto her shoulder.
Whisper turned to kiss her friend’s hair. Mariana was as wild as her when it came to their nights out. Paula was more subdued, that’s what she liked to think anyway. Usually after a few drinks, Paula was almost more eager than them to party.
“Yeah, well, Cyrus said you’re following Razer’s rules now,” Caelan said.
“Razer?” Paula asked. “Who’s… who’s Razer?”
“That’s what they call Zaiden McDade,” Caelan said, blinking at the three women as they turned their focus to him and drew in closer. “Do you have any idea who he is?”
“He’s Whisper’s husband,” Mariana said, making Whisper smile. “What do you mean? Who is he?”
Whisper knew of his reputation for being vicious; details weren’t that important to her.
“Burl McDade is the head of the family,” Caelan said, looking over them to nod at the older man standing behind Zaiden’s seat. The patriarch wasn’t alone, a group that included his sons clustered around him, hanging on his every word. “He took power from his own father by slowly poisoning the man. Didn’t even have the decency to do it quick; that man’s death was torturous.”
“That’s horrible,” Paula said, sickness in her expression.
Caelan scoffed. “That’s nothing to what he did to his wife. Killed her while he was fucking her. Apparently, he did it ‘cause she asked him to give up his favorite mistress. The mistress had threatened his wife’s life, but that didn’t matter to him. He killed her for questioning him.”
“While he was…” Mariana trailed off and pulled herself closer to Whisper. “How did he kill her?”
“Did he strangle her? Smother her?” Paula asked.
The woman had an uncanny ability to appear both queasy and enthralled at the same time. Whisper had recognized Paula’s ability to do it during the numerous times she recounted the tales of her brothers’ exploits.
Making
eye contact with each of them, Caelan shook his head. “Gouged out her eyes.”
A disgusted chorus of “ew” went around their group, which probably drew the attention of others. The women were too intrigued to care.
“That doesn’t kill you though,” Mariana said. “Does it? You can live without your eyes.”
“Does when you fuck the empty socket that’s left.”
Mariana and Paula made another sound of disgust.
Whisper sank back in her seat, away from the huddle. “That’s not true.”
“It’s true,” Caelan said, twisting toward her and nodding fast. “I swear on my mother’s fucking life.”
“Your mother’s dead, Caelan,” she said, tipping the rest of his whiskey into her mouth. “There’s no way Burl killed his wife like that. Even if he did, it wasn’t for asking a question. The woman gave him four sons; they must have been together a long time.”
“Ten, fifteen years, I think, maybe,” Caelan said in what was obviously a blind guess. “This was just after Doran was born… he’s the youngest…” Turning around, he scanned the table opposite and nodded to the group Burl was commanding. “The one wearing the red tie. That’s Doran, he’s the one always fucking up. The Byrnes best friend and the one we’re most worried about.”
That made her sit to attention. “Byrnes friend?”
Any notion that the McDades were friendly with the Byrnes turned her stomach.
“Not really, just… when he fucks up, it benefits them,” Caelan said. “See the problem with the McDades, they’re known for being short tempered. Previous generations couldn’t keep their guys out of prison… You know how they say serial killers are usually caught for something stupid? A broken taillight, that kind of thing.” The women nodded. “McDades can run an operation probably better than any other family. They’ve got their network, women, drugs, all of it, they’re in it, and they’ve got the guys to hide the money trails… But you piss off a McDade and he’ll put a bullet in your head, witnesses be damned.”
“Idiots,” Mariana murmured. “Who does something like that?”
“They are idiots,” Caelan said. “Some guys slights them, insults them, even in the tiniest way, and they blow a gasket… Doran’s done a couple of short stretches in prison… and everyone knows about Score McDade. Only one who can manage to hold it together is Razer… Zaid.”
Mariana stroked her arm. “Least you’ve got the calm one.”
Caelan snorted. “That’s not what I said. No fucking way. He doesn’t murder guys ‘cause he enjoys seeing them in pain. Word is the guy carries a straight razor on him at all times. He doesn’t care about the insults; he isn’t easily offended like that people say. But if his father sets him on someone, he’ll track a mark down and literally carve pieces off the guy… It’s sick. I’ve seen some of his skinning work, it would make you puke.”
A guy who could be cool and methodical in his torture; that was something. A secret corner of Whisper heard Caelan’s words as a challenge. She’d married the calm McDade, though that was a relative term given what Caelan was saying. But it sort of made her want to see how easy it would be to bring out his inner McDade.
“I don’t know about Score McDade,” Paula said. “Which one is he?”
Sitting up straighter, her friend bobbed left and right, trying to seek him out. “You won’t see him over there. Score did time in Texas for murder.”
“Did? Past tense?”
Caelan’s nod was solemn; Whisper called bullshit. “The vic wasn’t even dead, Biz set him up.”
“Biz is Parker McDade,” Mariana said, leaning against Paula. “Burl’s number one son. His second in command.”
“He set his own brother up for murder?”
“Who cares?” Mariana asked. “Zaiden is the one Whisper has to live with.”
“Zaid,” Caelan said. “Everyone around him calls him that… calling him Razer, unless you’re part of their inner circle, usually leads to bloodshed.”
“Is he violent to women?” Paula asked, the sweetheart really sounded concerned.
“They all are,” Caelan asked.
“I heard he was a psycho.”
Caelan was nodding. “He does most of the family dirty work, ‘specially now Score’s out the picture,” he said and was more discreet about his next nod across the room. “The guy with the pocket square, that’s Parker McDade, Biz, the oldest of the brothers. He’s married to Nicole, the only woman at their table. He’s all business.”
“Who’s the guy with him?” Whisper asked.
“With who?” Caelan asked, then seemed to notice her eyes were narrowed on the man standing next to Zaid. “Oh, that’s Bosco… I don’t know his story other than… well… like you see, he sticks to Razer like glue.”
“I can’t believe they call him Razor,” Paula said on an exaggerated shiver. “I get it’s ‘cause he carries a razor, but—”
“No, that’s not why,” Caelan said. “It’s not with an O, it’s with an E. When he was a kid, after his mom died, he set fire to everything, literally everything. He set fire to his family members’ homes, his schools, cars, whatever. He turned into this crazy fire razer.”
“Does he still do that?” Mariana asked. “Damn, that’s scary…”
Caelan shrugged. “Don’t know. Haven’t heard about anything going up in smoke for a while, but… maybe. I think if he has to, he’ll do whatever his father says.”
“Sure ‘cause gouging out his mother’s eyes probably really showed him what his father was capable of,” Mariana said, her lip curling to a sneer. “That’s disgusting.”
“You know they probably have stories about us too,” Whisper said, glancing at Caelan, though her sentiment was meant for Mariana and Paula as well.
They weren’t from crime families. Well, Paula wasn’t. Not exactly. Her father was a lawyer with questionable ties. Mariana’s uncle did work for the Dohertys.
“None of us ever gouged out a woman’s eyes while we were fucking her,” Caelan said.
“Says you,” Whisper said. “I don’t know what you men do while you’re in bed with women. Don’t forget two thirds of our family just died, Cae. I don’t know about all of them, but I know Keegan had a sadistic streak, that’s for goddamn sure.”
“Not that sick.”
Leaning back, she tried to seek out a clock… or some liquor. “What time is it?” Whisper asked.
“Seven thirty, maybe eight,” Caelan said. “Why?”
Whisper took Mariana’s hand, then sought out Paula’s over Caelan. “We can go get ready at your place, Paula. Be at Scooby’s by nine, maybe ten.”
Paula was nodding. Mariana pushed out her chair, ready to go.
Caelan grabbed Whisper’s arm before she could stand. “You can’t leave. It’s not allowed. Did Razer say you could go?”
“Razer hasn’t said a damn word to me,” Whisper said. “If he hasn’t given me any instructions, how can I be expected to follow them? I’m not breaking any rules.”
“Why do you want to leave?” Caelan asked, probably against revealing his concern. It was obvious, so she hoped he didn’t think he was doing a good job of hiding his worry. It was a shame really. Her cousin had been charged with controlling her, which wasn’t an easy feat. “Why not just stay and keep the peace?”
“How many reasons do you need? I don’t have any money or a drink,” she said. “There’s no music or dancing… This place is a dud.”
“You got that right,” Mariana said. “I say we hit the clubs hard tonight.”
“Agreed,” Whisper said, pulling her friends to their feet.
Caelan didn’t let her go, so he was forced to stand too. “Okay, hold on, how’s this,” he said, opening his arms in an attempt to block them against the table. “I’ll buy you all liquor… and there’s a jukebox in the corner. You can find something to dance to on there … right?”
The jukebox was on the wall beside the mysterious door used by staff and McDades. The dance
floor was on the McDades side of the room too, laid out in front of the still empty stage. In that dance space were a couple of groups of McDades. That family seemed to be against sitting at their table, whereas hers barely left their seats.
“I kinda want cake,” Paula said.
Whisper smiled. “You’re thinking we stop at The Creamery? See if Jimmy will feed us out the back door?”
Mariana squealed in delight and Paula laughed. “I like when he says we’re like lost little kittens.”
The Creamery was their favorite bakery in the city. While it would be closed at that time of day, they knew the owner. He was often there late preparing for the following day. Whenever they stopped by, he’d feed them no matter the time. Before or after, sometimes during, their night in their favorite club, which was just down the block from his premises.
“I think we should go to Santiago’s first,” Mariana said.
Paula laughed again, but it was Whisper who called their friend out. “You wanna fuck Santiago,” she said. “That’s why you want to go there.”
Paula kept laughing. Mariana whimpered. “You got to do it. He’s so hot… you’re married! You can’t keep him to yourself anymore.”
Holding up her hands, Whisper didn’t hide her smirk. “I never wanted to keep him all to myself… You know we’re allowed to share guys unless we specifically claim exclusive rights.”
“Which you’ve never done,” Paula said.
“Thank you,” Whisper said, presenting a flat hand to her friend. “Which I have never done. Thank God someone’s paying attention.”
Leaning in, Mariana teased. “Santiago only has eyes for you though… maybe someone should tell him he’s a free agent.”
“Oh, they all fall for her and you know it,” Paula said.
“It’s the danger,” Whisper said, knowing that Paula’s statement wasn’t even close to true. “See half the guys in the city are too afraid to fuck me because they think my father will gut them… The other half want me as a trophy on their wall.”
Pouting, Mariana hugged her arm and nuzzled in close. “And none of them see the true you, honey, do they?”
Only Yours (A McDade Brothers Novel Book 2) Page 3