About Face. Amy Lee Burgess

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СКАЧАТЬ do look like shite,” he said when he’d recovered, but he sounded concerned, not derogatory. I shrugged and remembered what a bastard he was. The warm moment between us evaporated, and he sighed before he righted my suitcase. It dripped, and he grimaced. He shook his head but didn’t say anything, although I suspected it half killed him to keep his mouth shut.

      “Did you not sleep at all on the plane?” He started back the way he’d come. My suitcase bumped along behind him, and I was forced to follow him if I wanted it back.

      “I can’t sleep on planes.”

      “Jaysus,” he muttered. “What is with you and your dire distrust of all methods of modern transportation?”

      “It’s not just modern. I’m kinda afraid of horses, too,” I admitted, and he snorted.

      “Well, doesn’t that figure.”

      “Walking and running are the two best ways to get anywhere, Paddy.”

      “If you never want to go more than a couple miles or get someplace in less than a month, I suppose.”

      “I also like bikes. The ones with pedals.”

      “Aren’t you awful scared you might hit a pothole and fly over the handlebars and break your arm, maybe?”

      “If I’m that damn stupid not to avoid the pothole, I deserve to break my arm. Haven’t you figured out yet I distrust putting my life in the hands of someone else? Someone who may fall asleep at the wheel or screw with his cellphone just as the light changes?”

      “Control—you just don’t like to give it up. Have you always been this way, or is this a recent character flaw?” He threw me a suspicious look over his shoulder.

      “Define recent? You try growing up with a father who takes every last decision out of your hands and makes you feel like you’re too stupid to figure shit out for yourself, and top it off with killing your bond mates in a car crash—and you tell me why I don’t like losing control. Control makes me safe, Paddy O’Reilly, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask to feel safe, do you?”

      “No.” His tone was subdued, and I became aware I’d screamed at him and, also, surprise, surprise, I was in tears.

      More pedestrians scattered out of my way, some of them even went so far as to turn away so they didn’t have to meet my gaze and perhaps become infected with my special brand of crazy.

      “Look, I’m tired and starving to death and all I wanted to do was come into the pub. Only I wasn’t wearing my damn pack ring, so that giant bastard wouldn’t let me in. Why should I wear my ring? You don’t give a shit about me. Apparently the whole frigging pack thinks I left Murphy and not the other way around.” I swiped at my eyes with my sleeve and cursed myself.

      “A little advance warning would have been nice, Stanz.” Paddy slowed his pace so he fell in next to me and tried to put his free arm around my shoulders, but I shrugged him away.

      “You want to watch me kick Colm’s ass? I didn’t have time to do it on my way out the pub door, but I’d definitely planned on it.”

      “Violence doesn’t solve anything. I just think it’s stupid you have to be Mac Tire and wear a goddamn ring to get into a fucking pub. Why isn’t being Pack good enough?” I felt my blood pressure skyrocket, and Paddy groaned.

      “Because the pub’s private, woman, but…”

      “What the hell kind of bullshit elitist crap is this? A pub just for your own pack members and to hell with the Pack at large? Padraic O’Reilly, you sonofabitch, what kind of pack is Mac Tire anyway? Fucking private pub? Unbelievable.”

      “Will you shut it, goddamn it?” Paddy cast a nervous glance around, but there were no pedestrians in the vicinity. Not anymore. Anyway, I hadn’t screamed. I had used a very vicious whisper.

      “Why? What in the name of hell for?” Incensed, I grabbed his arm and forced him to stop his forward motion.

      “Mac Tire’s a big enough pack as it is, Stanzie, and—” He broke off and pushed his hand through his unruly curls. His fingers stuck and with a grimace he yanked them free. “I’ll not be standing on the street discussing pack politics with you, damn it. The pub’s private and there’s a reason for it and to hell with you if you don’t like it. You don’t have to like it, do you? You aren’t—”

      “Going to be a member much longer? Yeah, well, screw you, too. Bastard,” I hissed and would have taken a swing at him, but he stepped prudently out of reach.

      “If you’d let me finish my sent—” he began, until I hissed, “Bastard” again under my breath, and he shut his mouth.

      We stared at each other for a good forty seconds.

      “I was gonna say Alpha, you annoying twat. You aren’t Alpha. Next time let me finish my frigging sentence!”

      “Sure. I wouldn’t want to stop you from swearing at me and calling me derogatory names in these unfinished sentences, Paddy.”

      “Oh, and bastard is a compliment then?” We glared at each other again until the silence was broken by my goddamn growling stomach.

      “Tell me you ate something on the plane, Stanzie.”

      “So now you want me to start lying to you? I’m sorry I’m not as good at it as you are, but maybe with practice I could get better.”

      He squeezed his eyes shut and I swore I saw his lips move as he counted to ten. “Da always told me never to argue with a starving woman. So I’m not saying anything at all to you until you eat something.”

      “Fine with me! Who the hell wants to listen to your bullshit, anyway?” I shoved my backpack back on my shoulder so I could follow him the few paces left to the door of the pub.

      The red-haired giant had obviously eavesdropped if his expression of complete astonishment was any indication.

      “Were you the freak of nature who called Paddy and told him I was here?” I snarled into his chest on my way past. I didn’t feel like tilting my head back enough to look him in the face.

      “Ye—es?” He didn’t sound very confident and I rolled my eyes.

      “Thanks for nothing, asswipe.”

      “For fuck’s sake, will somebody shove some food down this woman’s gullet before we’re all doomed?” Paddy yelled, and the entire pub went eerily silent.

      “We have shepherd’s pie or fish and chips tonight.” A redheaded woman with eyes the color of green sea glass stood behind the bar. She looked between me and Paddy with a curious expression and the barest hint of a grin.

      “Bring both up to my office,” Paddy ordered. “And Guinness as well. And be goddamn quick. And don’t even think about turning that sly smirk into laughter, Alannah, or I’ll have Fee pull all that red hair out of your skull for you.”

      The woman turned away and covered her mouth, but we all heard her stifled snickers anyway.

      “Goddamn СКАЧАТЬ