Page 77 of The Secret We Keep
Picking up my drink, I realise I left it unattended. I’m pretty sure I’d be fine, but Holly and I have watched enough movies together to know it’s a dumb idea. I try my best not to take a sip before I ask, “Are you still working at the gym?”
Jerry and I haven’t shared much since he’s been home, but I know that he and Rory stayed in contact. So, I already know the answer to my pointless question.
Rory leans forward, placing a hand on my leg. “Yeah. I have my own place by the art centre. You should come by; I could get you a free membership.” His thumb rubs a smooth circle on the outside of my thigh.
Unwanted memories of our night together, have me recoiling. “No. Thank you,” I add, holding my arms across my middle, turning my body away from him. His slight touch has my blood pressure spiking.
“Ah, don’t act like a stranger with me. You used to like me flirting with you.”
I choke on nothing. “Actually, I didn’t.”
Rory tries to laugh away the fact that I just admitted to not liking him. “If you weren’t so frigid, maybe things could have worked out differently.”
“Frigid?” I question, my insides sinking. I know I shouldn’t care what he says, but the truth is, it throws me right back to being a kid again and hating the fact that I lost my grip on my life somewhere along the way. “I was never frigid.”
He laughs maniacally. “That’s your opinion.” Clutching my bag tightly, I go to stand, but his hand on my leg grips me tighter.
My skin instantly crawls. “Let me go.”
“Why?” he asks, his voice low, coaxing.
I glance around for the barman, heart thudding so loudly, I swear other people can hear it. “Because the last time you called me that, I almost made a mistake to try and prove you wrong.” It was the worst night of my life.
“Maybe you should try and prove me wrong again.” His smug face makes me feel sick. He has no clue how repulsed I am. And if he does, he doesn’t care.
When he winks at me, my eyes narrow. My throat turns dry. My hands won’t stop trembling. That old weight, the shame, the fear, it slams into my chest so violently, the words crack out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Even if I was desperate, I would never do that with you.”
Gripping my leg harder, he leans in close enough for me to be able to smell his rancid breath. It makes my blood run thin, and a putrid taste fills my mouth. “Maybe I like ‘em desperate.”
Grimacing, I turn my face away as his fingers start to move on my skin. I have every intention to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone, but large, strong hands pull me to my feet before I can.
He comes out of nowhere, a blur of anger I’ve never seen on his face before. One second, Rory had me cornered, voice sharp with threat. The next, the man I’ve loved in silence is standing between us, his hand moving me behind him. Protecting me.
Paddy looks down at Rory, eyes blazing, chest heaving. “You don’t get to fucking touch her.” He growls the words, and it’s not why he says them that makes me falter, but thewayhe says them. Like I’m worth protecting. Like I matter.
Rory’s eyes dance wildly between the two of us as I look over Paddy’s shoulder.
“What, and you do?” Rory sneers.
Paddy snarls in a low, unhinged manner, and I gently tug his arm, wanting to get out of here.
“Come on, O’Keefe, it’s no big deal,” Rory then mutters, voice shaky.
Paddy turns and ushers me out of the pub, his hand guiding me at the small of my back the entire way. The simple touch makes my stomach twist, even though I can feel him vibrating.
His BMW is parked like it was dumped out the front, and no words are exchanged as he opens the passenger door for me to get in.
It’s weird. I’ve never seen him like this before. I don’t know what to say. Knowing in my gut it’s probably best to follow his lead, I blink and duck into his car.
Without a word, his lips press together in a tight line, and he glares at me, like he’s mad.Reallymad.
At me?
I don’t get a chance to ask him. He closes the door with a thud before he instructs, “Stay here,” in a deep tone of voice. When he straightens his back, fists clenched, I know he’s about to go back inside instead of getting in the car.
Worry gnaws in my stomach. My gaze drops to my hands. I swear, even through the glass, I hear him sigh before he turns and walks away. It’s only then do I look in the direction of the pub, wondering how bad things are about to get.
Not having to wait long, the door flies open with Rory under Paddy’s hold. Paddy’s usually lively eyes are entirely black. Completely devoid of any sympathy for the man who had his hand on me.
