Page 90 of The Secret We Keep
He smiles wearily, glancing my way. “I have precious cargo. Doesn’t hurt to be careful.”
My cheeks blush.
In all the years I’ve known Paddy, I’ve never associated him with being careful. Responsible, yes. But never careful. “Right.” I look down at my hands, tucking them back into my sleeves.
“If you’re not cold, then why do you do that?” Paddy asks, noticing.
“For safety.” I shrug feeling stupid suddenly, glancing his way. He’s watching me. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he answers gently in that soft voice of his.
I look out of my window before I slowly turn to look at him again. “I think I do it when I’m feeling unsure about things.”
He blinks, long and delayed. “Are you unsure about me?”
My answer isn’t forced. “No.” I shake my head. “But I do wonder what’s going on with you.”
“What’s going on with me?” he bites out, changing his tone. I can tell by his jaw tightening that there’s something.
“Yeah.”
He indicates to turn. “There’s nothing going on with me,” he breathes out his lie.
“Okay.” I turn to look back at the road. “Please could you stop the car?” I look down at my watch. “I can still catch the bus.” I just stare forwards, holding my nerve, wondering why the hell I feel so determined to push him. I never push anybody like this.
After an eternity, Paddy lets loose a breath. “I got suspended from my job,” he says coarsely.
Oh shit. I know how much that job meant to him. “Why?” I ask, desperate to know more.
He sighs. “Because I made a mistake, Morgan.”
“What mistake?” I fire at him, immediately sitting back, sensing I’m being too much.
“The kind you can’t make right.”
His hands tighten around the wheel, knuckles whitening. I’m perceptive enough to know thatbeingbehind the wheel has something to do with it. Precious cargo or not, I saw the way he drove yesterday. I see the way his muscles are being held tight now.
“Did you have a car accident or something?”
Paddy presses the brakes, coming to a stop at a junction. “Fucking hell. Why’s everyone from our village so fucking perceptive?”
I turn my face away from him. “Probably because you just upped and left for three years and drive like the car’s about to explode,” I mutter, instead of keeping that thought to myself.
“Is that right?” Paddy snaps, turning right and pressing his foot on the accelerator.
My cheeks flame once again. “Shit, I’m sorry, Paddy.” I try to relax my racing mind as I watch the trees pass by my window. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
He remains silent for four minutes. I know because, when I’m brave enough to stop looking out of my window, I watch them pass us by, keeping my eyes trained on the clock in the car.
“It’s not your fault,” he eventually says, loosening his grip slightly. “It’s mine.”
I face him. “What happened?”
His words come out strangled. “I drove my girlfriend-at-the-time’s brother home after finding him on the side of the road. We argued. Things got heated. I was driving fast and hit the brakes, but he… He grabbed the wheel.”
“Paddy, I’m so sorry,” I choke out, sad for him.
“Don’t be, curly fries. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have even stopped to pick him up.”
