If I want to make any change, I’m going to have to see my father face-to-face.
I’m going to have to go to the motherland.
3
CORMAC
A private flightto Ireland is just one of the perks of having a wealthy family.
True, the jet isn’t exactly mine. I had to rent it out from a company, but the fact that I’m able to drop this amount of money for private accommodation is a treat I’m sure many others will never get to experience.
Instead of being relaxed or at ease as we make our way to Ireland, I can’t get my mind to shut off. I rehearse what I will say to my father over and over again. Each time, I change certain aspects to further prove my point and to anticipate what he will say.
The more I agonize over the conversation I’m sure he isn’t expecting, the more anxious I get. By the time the plane touches down on the tarmac in Cork, I’m nothing more than a ball of nerves.
Killian offered to come with me when I told him that I was going to fly over here, but I turned him down. Right now, I wish I would’ve taken him up on the offer. I could use some support. Even if I already know what’s going to happen.
My father is going to get one look at me and hear nothing of what I have to say, but he’ll still find a way to convince me that his plan is the best plan. That my life as a single bachelor is better being over.
There are only a few people at the airport, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t want to deal with the stares. I’ve spent so long staying away from them. Every time someone looks at my face, it feels like the burn starts all over again.
I manage to arrange for a car to pick me up and finally feel a bit more at ease when I’m in the back seat. There’s a partition, and the back of the car is dark. The windows are tinted, and the upholstery is all inky black. Now that I feel safe, knowing no one can see me, I’m able to take in my surroundings as they pass by the windows.
Ireland feels like another world. The last time I was here was after my mother died. Father decided that she would want to be buried here, in her birthplace. I have a handful of cousins and one uncle, not that it matters. I don’t have any sort of connection to them besides the blood running through our veins.
Still, I have to admit that the greenery of the countryside and the simplicity of the towns and folks has a bit of charm that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced at home.
“We’ll be there shortly.” The driver’s voice sounds through the intercom. The deep Irish accent solidifies the fact that I’m not in America any longer.
I don’t respond.
There’s no need.
No more than five minutes later, we’re turning down a dirt road. Sheep and goats roam around perfectly gated areas.
There’s a scattering of trees, but nothing that would block the line of sight to the house. The windows themselves are covered on the inside, I’m guessing with dark drapes. My father has always been big on privacy. He never wanted anyone to see anything he didn’t want them to see.
It’s a quirk I’ve carried with me my entire life.
The car pulls into an empty space right in front, and if I ever wondered whether or not my father was still as serious about his security as before, the moment I step out of the car I have the answer.
Four large men, all of them holding weapons, converge on me. The car behind me reverses so fast its tires skid and kick up dirt as the driver rushes to get away.
“Who are you?” one of the men barks in my direction.
I sigh, clenching my teeth so hard I swear I crack one of my back teeth.
“I’m Cormac O’Sullivan. Niall’s son.” I announce and wait for any form of recognition.
I don’t get it.
In fact, the group of them all look at me as if they had no idea the man they were here to protect fathered any children. One of the guards in the back steps away, pressing a finger to his ear and talking. I assume to whoever is in the house closest to my father.
The wait seems endless as I rethink all the reasons I was so determined to come over here and do this.
“Turn your head.” The guard in the back calls out. Revulsion gurgles up inside of me. Of course this is how my father would prove I am who I say I am.
His mark.
