Page 84 of Savage Blooms
Eileen marched back to the main door, but Finley caught up with her again on the threshold. This time, he grabbed her by both shoulders and forced her to face him.
“Let me go or I’ll scratch your eyes out,” she ordered.
“I’m not here because of loyalty to your family, Eileen; hang your family. I’m here because ofyou, and you know that. How can you say all that when I—”
“Oh, you know I hate it when men grovel; don’t start.”
Finley shook her hard enough to rattle her earrings, and now he wasmad, in that way that made the meanness coiled deep inside him strike like a pit viper. Eileen glowered right at him as he laid into her.
“I’m tired of giving you everything and having you throw it back in my face. You can hardly take care of yourself, and you beg me to boss you around and act like your father just so you don’t have to think about anything, then you turn around and treat me like a servant the moment I displease you. You’re an ungrateful, spoiled headcase and I’m the only one who fucking sees that, butI’m still here. Youoweme, Eileen. The things I have done for you, the lines I have crossed, the—”
He bit off the rest of the sentence, all the blood draining from his face. Eileen looked over to find Adam standing in the doorway, Nicola close behind him. She thought they had been gazing into each other’s eyes, or having tender missionary sex, or doing whatever else normal young couples spent their time doing. Eileen wouldn’t know. All the gazing and fucking in her life had always been coupled with fighting, with manipulation and pain and power struggle.
“I heard shouting,” Adam said unsteadily, his eyes flickering from Eileen’s face to Finley’s tight grip on her shoulders.
Eileen wanted, in a dark, cruel rush, to hit Finley, really hit him. All her carefully laid plains and meticulously placed breadcrumbs of information, and he was about to blow it all in front of the Americans because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
Eileen shoved Finley away. Hard. He stumbled back a few steps, then moved to grab at her again, but Adam was quicker. With a speed of a track runner, he was out of the house and between Finley and Eileen, gripping Finley’s upper arm.
“Everybody take a lap!” Adam barked, holding Finley back. Eileen nearly stumbled in the gravel from the efficiency with which Adam had broken up the fight. “Eileen, go inside. Finley, you’re with me.”
“Stay out of this,” Eileen snarled. “I don’t need a white knight to protect me from this stupid—”
“Eileen!” Nicola called, holding out a hand. “Come on, let it go. I hate fighting.”
“That’s right,” Finley said sullenly. “Take the princess to her tower room and serve her tea and crumpets; why should she ever have anything but the best? Why should she ever consider for one instant the way her actions impact other people—”
“That’s enough now,” Adam said, in that good-natured but firm way that had probably broken up a few bar fights. “Take a walk with me, will you? Nicola, take Eileen inside.”
Eileen had half a mind to throw Adam to the ground so she could get to Finley herself. Who did Adam think he was, stepping into something he couldn’t possibly understand? She and Finley fought, and they made up. It was the way of things. They had grown up tangled in each other like ivy, starving each other for light, and they were the only ones who really understood each other. She never asked for help. She didn’tneedhelp.
A touch on her wrist gave her a jolt, and Eileen turned to find Nicola standing at her side.
“Try to breathe, okay?” Nicola said. This simple act of sweetness was so unexpected, so ridiculous, that it broke the spell anger had been weaving around Eileen. She found herself following Nicola into the house, looking over her shoulder to see Adam sling his arm aroundFinley’s neck in that effortless way of men, bending in to say something soothing.
Then the door swung shut behind her.
“Tea is what you need,” Nicola said. “Calms the nerves.”
She led Eileen into the drafty kitchen by the hand and put the gooseneck kettle on. Eileen’s skin tingled where Nicola touched her, searing her flesh with the impossibility of tenderness.
Nicola fished two bags of chamomile tea out of the cupboard, doctored up a pair of mugs with honey like she was slathering chocolate sauce on the inside of a Starbucks cup, and poured in the hot water the moment the kettle started to whistle. Then she sat down at the rough-hewn kitchen table and motioned for Eileen to sit with her. Eileen sank down into the nearest chair, memories of chopping carrots and peeling potatoes with her mother crowding in despite the circumstances. The knife grooves on the wood were so deep that the table smelled constantly of crushed thyme, her mother’s favorite herb.
“Are you, uh, okay?” Nicola said, pushing Eileen’s mug towards her. “It looked like Finley grabbed you pretty tight.”
“I’m not afraid of a little manhandling,” Eileen said breezily, knowing full well she might have done worse to Finley if Adam hadn’t stepped between them.
Nicola’s brows creased as she stirred her tea.
“But someone putting their hands on you in play, that’s different from someone putting their hands on you in anger.”
“I suppose,” Eileen said, taking a sip of the scaldingtea. It peeled off a few tastebuds, but all the better. She deserved to hurt.
“And you shoved him too, Eileen. Really hard. I saw it.”
“I did,” Eileen said coolly, putting her tea back down. It tasted like home and freely given love, two things that currently felt like hydrochloric acid on bare skin. “What about it?”
“Your relationship isn’t my business, but… Well, it sort of is, since Adam is kind of involved with you and I’m kind of involved with Finley. I know we’re making this up as we go along, but I just don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
