She might have believed that under different circumstances, but she’d seen firsthand how grief for Ronan had changed and warped her father, affecting both his judgment and his health. And that was without someone heaping humiliation on top of it like they’d effectively done with Victor Halloran.
But he wouldn’t listen to reason, and now wasn’t the time to argue about it. “Papa, we need to go home and regroup.”
“Nonsense. The boys will take care of things.”
She reined in her temper through sheer force of will. “Someone drove by and fired on innocent bystanders to prove that they could.”
“Yes, and if we scurry like rats to our den, they will know they have the upper hand.” He straightened, towering over her. “I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been alive, daughter.”
The same argument-ending statement he always made when he decided she was being too lippy. There would be no reasoning with him now, and if he backed down, it was a weakness he wouldn’t allow himself to show. There was no option but to stay here and be a sitting duck for whatever attack the Hallorans had planned next.
Maybe they’re done for the night. Wishful thinking and she knew it. Maybe they were, but it was always smarter to overestimate your enemy than to hope for the best. She tried to put herself into Victor Halloran’s shoes. From everything she’d heard, he’d done wet work for a prominent empire in New York before deciding to branch out for himself and carve out a piece of Boston. He’d worked his way up the ranks and created a reputation so brutal, people here had folded for him without a fight. She’d bet everything she owned that he wasn’t done for the night.
Callie motioned to John. He hesitated, looking at her father, but finally crossed over the stand next to her chair. “Yes?”
“Set up a perimeter around the building.” Making a show of strength was all well and good, but they’d have to be fools not to put some extra security in place to protect the guests here. Even her father would acknowledge that—already had if the small smile he wore was any indication. He’d done that sort of thing from the time she was a child, setting up a situation and allowing her to learn how to take the lead. She’d basked in his approval when she made the correct decision. Now? Now, she just wanted their people taken care of.
“Will do.”
Satisfied that they were as safe as they could be, she reached for her glass of champagne before realizing it had been tipped over during the scramble for cover. Just as she turned to search for another, Teague appeared by her side. “Thought you could use this to settle you nerves.”
“My nerves are just fine, thank you very much.” It was anger giving her the shakes, not fear. Mostly. But she still accepted the tumbler and eyed the amber liquid. “Scotch?”
“Whiskey.”
Of course. She rarely touched the stuff, but now wasn’t the time to quibble over foolish things like this. The liquid shot fire down her throat, a blaze that slowly eased and settled into comfortable warmth in her stomach. She blinked at Teague, her eyes watering a little.
He watched her like he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be worried. God, she wasn’t sure which he should do, either, so she took another—smaller—sip. “My father insists that we stay and continue the party.”
“That seems to be the plan.” And he didn’t look any more pleased with it than she was.
To keep herself from staring at him, she watched as people righted chairs and slowly settled back into whatever they’d been doing before the screaming started. Some of them looked worried, but the others cast their glances at the head table and took their cues from her and Teague’s fathers. They wouldn’t leave—wouldn’t show dreaded weakness—until the party was over.
“It’s idiocy to stay here when we know there’s danger.”
“It is.” He shrugged those big shoulders. “But these people are scavengers. The second they smell weakness, they’ll stop fearing us and it will be complete chaos.”
She knew that. Truly, she did. But it was such a fine line to travel, and they were on the wrong side of it tonight. At least there are some precautions in place now. “There has to be a better way.”
“If you figure it out, be sure to let me know.”
She finished the whiskey, and decided it didn’t taste half as bad as that first drink. “Things