Page 80 of The Secret We Keep
“That’s odd,” she remarks.
“I know, but I like the way you say it.”
She hits my arm playfully. “Not me saying your name.” Then she rolls her eyes. “I mean my dad’s car. It’s not there.”
My gaze flicks to a car pulling onto her road. “This him?” I ask, already guessing it will be.
We both stand still, watching the car come to a stop on her driveway. “Yeah. I wonder where he’s been.”
“Why don’t you ask him?” I suggest, tone flat. Because I wonder if he’ll tell her the truth: that he followed her to the pub tonight. How many times has he done that, I wonder?
She huffs under her breath. “It would make a change from arguing with him I suppose.”
We take a few steps along her path. “Have things got any better?”
“I guess,” Morgan says, shrugging her shoulders. Her eyes turn downcast.
Bill gets out of his car. He stares, eyes narrowed, first on me, then on Morgan. I see them get smaller before he sucks in a lung-full of air and closes his car door.
Can he pick up on my impending explosion? I hope he can, because I know he saw me noticing him before I dragged Rory out of the pub.
“Will you be alright?” I ask Morgan, my eyes still firmly locked on her father.
The sound of him stepping closer grows louder.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m going to try Holly again before calling it a night. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, watching me glaring at her old man.
He stands stock still, blinking fast, voice rough with emotion. “Morgan, are you okay?”
She studies him before replying, “Fine, Dad. Paddy brought me home after Holly was a no show.” Her explanation to where she’s been seems like a force of habit.
I want to tell her that he already knows, but I keep my mouth shut.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says genuinely, one hand coming up to rest on her shoulder. Then he turns to look at me.
And I hold his gaze, my tongue running over my teeth. Is he going to speak up? Should I do it for him?
When his widening eyes dart to Morgan and his lips press together nervously, I get his silent plea. I don’t owe him anything, but for her sake, he can have what he wants. “I’ll be off, then,” I say through gritted teeth.
Morgan flashes me a look of worry, but her father jumps in before she can speak. “Actually, do you have a minute?”
My nostrils flare, anger rising. “For you?” I spit the words like they taste fowl.
Bill nods, but his jaw clenches, a flicker of annoyance darkening his eyes. “Yes,” he says, tone dry, the muscles in his face twitching.
I try my hardest not to demand answers on the spot, but Morgan must sense her cue to leave. It’s clear in the way Bill doesn’t immediately start talking, that he wants our conversation to be private. I mean, of course he does. He got caught spying on his daughter. He has a lot of explaining to do.
“Well, good night, Paddy. Thanks again for coming to get me.” Morgan looks once more between us.
“Good night, Morgan.”
Then she walks to her house.
The man in front of me watches her until she’s inside.
As soon as the door clicks, I cross my arms. “Does she know?” I come right out and ask. “Does she know that you follow her?”
He won’t meet my eyes as he blows out a depleted breath, running a hand through his grey hair. “No,” he says bluntly.
