About Face. Amy Lee Burgess

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СКАЧАТЬ was not as tall and had to hang onto the banister to keep my balance, but I managed not to trip over my feet.

      At the top of the staircase was a door marked Private. To the left was a small, very antiquated bathroom. Paddy shoved open the office door and stomped toward an old rolltop desk piled with papers and a desk calculator. He threw himself into a leather chair on wheels that squealed in protest and nearly bashed into the brick wall behind it.

      A battered sofa, two armchairs with the stuffing coming out, an ancient coffee table and a set of built in bookshelves crammed haphazardly with books and magazines made up the rest of the furniture.

      A grimy window covered with curtains in a faded red chintz pattern overlooked a dark alley.

      “Very film noir.” I brushed off the seat of one of the armchairs before dubiously taking a seat. “Are you a private eye or a publican? All you need is a fedora and a fifth of rye stashed in your desk drawer, and you could be straight out of a Mickey Spillane novel.”

      “Shut it,” Paddy advised and put his head in his hands for a moment.

      “Dramatic bastard.” I looked around the room and grimaced at the grime on the window.

      “I take it by your comment outside that you’re here to sever the ties with Liam?” Paddy moved his squeaky chair so the desk didn’t block me from his sight.

      “Actually, the opposite. I came to work things out. Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water, right?”

      “Huh?” He gaped at me, and I rolled my eyes.

      “That was a Jaws reference, you dumbass.”

      He continued to stare.

      “American movie from the seventies? About a huge shark that ate half the damn town and then got blown up with an air tank and a lucky-as-hell rifle shot?”

      “What the hell are you blathering on about now? You’re delirious—you do know that, right? You need to eat something and maybe then we can have a genuine conversation. Jaysus.” Paddy rolled the chair back behind his desk and began to sort through the phenomenal mess spread across it.

      “This office is a joke. You can’t seriously run a business out of here. How can you possibly keep track of anything with it thrown all over the desk like that?”

      “I have a system.” Paddy gave me a defensive glare and I shook my head.

      “And I have nine lives like a cat. My ass, you have a system,” I sneered and something pounded the desktop. Possibly his fist.

      “This is not the Stanzie Newcastle I remember,” he muttered. “Step one foot on Irish soil, and it’s like a fucking banshee possessed you.”

      I settled back in the armchair.

      “So where is he? Murphy?” My voice was casual, but I didn’t fool either of us. I thought of Faith’s dream again and wanted to beg the man to tell me Murphy wasn’t in over his head, but I had to play it just a little cooler than that. If I could. Subtlety was not one of my better talents.

      “No,” he decided. “We are not having this conversation until after you eat and after I drink copious amounts of beer. Not gonna happen.”

      “I know he’s giving everyone in the pack the impression I walked out on him. Or maybe that was you,” I accused and Paddy’s mouth fell open.

      “Me?” he bellowed. “I’m not in the habit of blabbing pack members’ private business all over the place.”

      “Fine. It was him, then.” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice but I knew I failed. “That red-haired giant hurt my feelings,” I yelled. “I wasn’t in half so bad a mood before he treated me like shit and talked about the pub being fucking private.”

      “I told you I’m gonna kick his ass. Why do you have to take it out on me?” Paddy shouted.

      “I’m also mad as hell at you! Worse than I am at the giant!”

      “His name is Colm, damn it,” snapped Paddy. “And why the hell should you be mad at me?”

      My blood pressure zoomed again at his treachery.

      “You said I was family. After my father disowned me at the tribunal, you took me aside and told me I didn’t need him because I had a family. You. Mac Tire. You fucking lied to my face, Paddy, and what’s worse, I believed you. I believed in you. And then you just walked away. You couldn’t even look me straight in the eye the day you and Murphy left. And in four months not a phone call or an email to see if I was okay. Nothing. Not one goddamn thing.”

      “Fuck.” Guilt spread across Paddy’s face, but I was unmoved. Then the guilt turned to anger, and he yelled, “And why the fuck has it taken you four months to get your ass over here anyway? I didn’t think it would take you even four days, but no, you’ve got to be a bitch about it!”

      “Me? A bitch? What?” I spluttered, unable to form a coherent sentence due to the rage strangling me.

      “You heard me. You sat there and didn’t say one word when he said he was leaving, and how the hell do you think that made him feel? Like complete shite, that’s how it made him feel. And here I am, having to pick up the pieces for you, and now you have the gall to be mad at me, woman? I’m the one who should be mad, and I am. I am good and frigging mad, so don’t you glare at me like that. You tell me what the hell took you so long to get here.”

      “He left me,” I screamed. Rage burned up and down my spine and all through my blood until I thought I might spontaneously combust. “How many times do I have to keep telling people that? Why is everyone blaming me? He walked out on me, and I’m supposed to come crawling after him to beg him to take me back? Fuck you! Oh, you arrogant bastard, I cannot even believe you!”

      “Where in the hell did you hear me say the word crawl? Stanzie Newcastle, will you calm your ass down and shut the fuck up for one minute? I can’t even hear myself think.” Paddy tore at his hair with his hands, and his cheeks were so red I thought he was close to combustion too.

      Affronted, I turned away from him and stared at the damn brick wall. He wanted me to shut the fuck up, did he? Fine. I would not say a word.

      The office door banged open, and the redhead from behind the bar walked in with a tray of food and Guinness. My stomach rumbled, and she flashed me a smile I didn’t trust an inch. Too many teeth.

      “I’m Alannah Doyle,” she introduced herself as she set the tray down on Paddy’s desk. “My bond mate’s Declan Byrne.”

      “Constance Newcastle.” I took a deep breath. “At the moment, anyway, my bond mate is Liam Murphy.” I wanted to throw up or crawl beneath the sofa, but I managed to look her in the face, braced for pity or ridicule.

      “What took you so long to get here?” she demanded, hands on hips.

      “Thank you,” Paddy yelled rudely.

      “Does this shit happen all the time in Mac Tire? People walk out on other people, and other people chase after them, even though they were the СКАЧАТЬ