Page 71 of Carnal Urges
I realize my voice is too high. I also realize I’m shaking.
I’m so angry, I’m about to explode.
I’m being discarded. Without so much as a goodbye,Declan is discarding me.
Kieran wisely remains silent. For the next thirty minutes, I seethe next to him in the passenger seat as we drive farther on, out of thesuburbs and into the country, until finally we pull to a stop off the side of a dirt road.
Kieran puts the SUV into park but leaves the engine running. Without a word, he gets out and goes around to the back. He opens the rear door, removes several bags, slams the door shut, and walks down the dark road.
As soon as he’s out of range of the headlights, another pair of headlights turns on a few hundred feet away. I now see we’ve parked on one side of a wooden bridge that connects the dirt road. A stream runs beneath the bridge. A car waits on the other side.
My hand tightens around the door handle. My heart throbs like a jungle drum inside my chest.
Kieran returns. He settles himself into the driver’s seat. Without looking at me, he says, “Off you go.”
“What was in those bags?”
“Yer clothes.”
The clothes Declan bought me, he means. The clothes I asked him for, he bought me, and I barely got to wear before I went into the hospital.
I can’t imagine why he bothered.
My voice heated, I say, “I want you to tell him something for me. Tell him—”
“You can tell him yerself,” Kieran says quietly, nodding at my window.
When I look over, I see a figure materialize out of the shadows of the trees lining the road. The figure is tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a black suit. A lit cigarette burns orange against the night, glowing brighter when the figure lifts it to his lips for a drag.
It’s Declan. Without even being able to see his face, I know it’s him.
What is this feeling?
Don’t name it. Don’t you dare.
I open the door and hop out. Before I close it, I say, “It was nice knowing you, Kieran. Thank you for taking care of me. Tell Spider I said goodbye. I hope you both have a good life.”
He looks at me and smiles. He says something in Gaelic that I choose to believe is a farewell.
I close the door and walk toward Declan. When I’m a few feet away, I stop. Neither one of us speaks for a moment. Then I say, “I didn’t know you smoke.”
“I quit a while ago. I’ve recently taken it up again.” His voice is quiet. Steady. As unreadable as his eyes.
“So this is goodbye.”
He takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Aye.”
“Great. I can’t wait to never see you again.”
Smoke billows out his nostrils like a dragon. He gazes at me, silent, cool as a cat.
I hate cats.
“Okay. Good talk, as always, gangster. I guess I’ll see you around.”
When I turn to leave, he says, “Wait.”
He moves closer. Pulling a cell phone from his coat pocket, he says gruffly, “Here.”
