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Which meant he could focus on Marshall
He grabbed him again by the collar. Gone was the polished gentleman everyone had believed over Cillian. Wild hair and creased, dirtied clothing revealed him for what he really was.
“How dare you touch my wife?” Cillian raged and tossed him out into the hallway.
Marshall struck the wall, sending a painting crashing to the floor, the frame making a great cracking sound.
“It’s not enough you killed Mary?” Cillian demanded and grabbed his shirt to haul him to his feet.
The man eyed him through a glazed expression. “You killed Mary. You took everything. Now I’m going to take everything from you.” He glanced behind Cillian.
Cillian spied Ivy from the periphery of his vision. “Don’t even look at her.” He slammed Marshall against the wall making the nearby console table rattle and a vase upon it teeter. “You’ve spouted lies for so long that even you believe them.”
“You killed Mary,” Marshall uttered again. “You killed Mary and now you have everything.”
All Cillian needed was Ivy. He’d give up the title and the houses and the land in an instant so long as he had Ivy. But that didn’t matter to Marshall. Whatever he’d done to Mary, it had driven the man mad.
“But I’m going to take everything from you too.” A slow smile spread across his face.
“Like hell.” Cillian raised a fist at the same time a flash of blue and white appeared in Marshall’s hand. He heard the splinter of the vase before he felt the impact. Pain speared through the side of his head. Sparks danced in front of his vision. His grip weakened.
The man shoved Cillian back, tore from his grip, and sprinted down the hallway. Cillian glanced at Ivy’s pale face.
“Stay here,” he uttered, swiping something from his eye he only realized was blood when he saw the red on his sleeve.
He caught up with the man near the top of the stairs.
Slowly, he turned. “You don’t deserve to live, Cillian.”
“You did this to yourself, Marshall. Mary wanted you. As much as I hoped otherwise, she was merely a friend to me. But you couldn’t stand even that.”
“No,” he spat. “You could not stand that she loved me. You wanted her for yourself.” He moved suddenly, head lowered, and rammed into Cillian with his shoulder.
The air flew from Cillian’s lungs when he connected with the wall. He let loose a punch, connecting with bone and making Marshall stagger back a few steps. The man came at him again and again Cillian punched him.
So much of him wanted to kill him. Wanted to make the man suffer for what he’d done both to Mary and Ivy. But Ivy was there, in the periphery of his vision and he was no longer the man who’d easily spilled blood on the battlefield.
The desire for revenge didn’t burn as hot as he’d anticipated.
Harry Marshall would have to pay for his crimes in court. At the very least, he’d go to prison for what he’d done to Ivy.
“Fight me, damn it.” He swung again and again.
Knuckles struck Cillian’s cheek, then his gut, then his side. Cillian responded. Punch after punch didn’t seem to slow the man. It didn’t matter how much blood poured from his face, how slow his movements became, how harsh his breaths sounded. The man was crazed.
And Cillian wasn’t sure how to end this without doing very real damage. Aware of Ivy in the periphery of his vision, he ducked a blow and struck Marshall hard in the stomach, making him double over. He didn’t want Ivy seeing this. Didn’t want her to see him as the fighter he could be.
But Marshall came at him again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They were going to kill each other.
Mouth dry, her face still throbbing from the blow, Ivy watched the men grapple.
If she tried to get near, she risked getting struck from a flying fist. Blood trickled down Cillian’s face. It smeared under Marshall’s nose. They swore and swung and the thud of fists upon flesh made bile rise into the back of her sore throat. She’d thought she was going to die. That she’d never get to tell Cillian why she refused to leave when he’d ordered to.
Now he might die at the hands of Marshall. Or else he’d go to prison for murder. From the fury on her husband’s face, she suspected the latter.
