Craving Resurrection
Page 11

I felt him huff a small laugh into my hair at my outburst.
“I bet.” He mumbled, “Fuckin’ manky bastard.”
I took a deep breath and leaned back. “I’m done. Holy shit. I’m fine, I’m okay.” I laughed self-deprecatingly. “It’s not like anything happened. Right? I’m such a fucking whiner.”
“Ye know him, baby?” he asked gently, smoothing my hair away from my face with one hand as he kept me secured against him.
“No, I mean I recognized his voice, I think…”
“Den ye’ve no reason to be embarrassed for bein’ a bit frightened. Mum told me about yer folks. He’s in wit’ dem, ye’ve got good reason to be worried.” He warned, “I could fuckin’ kill ye for lettin’ him in de door.”
“He just sort of pushed his way in…”
His head turned toward the door and he stared at it silently for a moment, before completely changing the subject.
“Ye cooked?” he asked with a quirked brow, his dimple peeking out as his lips tipped up.
“It’s just beef stew. It’s one of the recipes I know by heart.” I pulled out of his arms and walked toward the kitchen. “But you don’t get any.”
“Why de hell not?”
“You were a total dick earlier!”
“Ah, was gonna come over and apologize… again. Was plannin’ on doin’ it in a bit, but den yer man showed up.”
“He’s not my anything.”
“Sounded like he wanted to be yer first,” he argued with a snicker.
“Oh, my God! Now you really can’t have any, you asshole.”
“I’m kiddin’ wit’ ye, girl. No need to get yer knickers in a twist.”
“Has Peg eaten? I was going to see if she wanted some of this. I’m not sure how to cut the recipe down far enough to feed less than four people,” I replied, completely ignoring the knickers comment. I turned the burner off and grabbed a couple dishtowels to lift the heavy pot off the stove. “I can just carry it over there.”
He moved in behind me as I was talking and before I could grasp the handles, he was pulling me away. “Ye’ll not carry a heavy pot of hot stew all de way to me mum’s, ye eejit.” Then he lifted the stew as if it weighed nothing and motioned with his head to get me moving.
When we got outside, I locked the front door while he waited patiently. He was watching me like a hawk, but his face was completely relaxed. It was odd.
“Do I have something on my face?” I asked, wiping at my mouth and cheeks as I joined him on the sidewalk and we began to walk. “Why were you just staring at me?”
“Just glad I was dere, is all,” he answered in a low voice. “I’ll keep an eye out, alright? Ye won’t be bot’ered again.”
“Thank you.” I swallowed loudly. “I mean, I don’t think he’d come back. Do you?”
“No tellin’. Ye’ll stay at our place tonight, no reason for ye to sleep in dat house alone while yer folks are gone—”
“I’d like to argue, but I don’t really want to stay there by myself,” I confessed sheepishly.
“Wit’ good reason. Dose locks are shite.” He shook his head as I climbed the steps ahead of him and opened Peg’s front door.
“I can’t stay here forever, though.”
“I’ll make sure yer safe, even if I’m not here,” he said, passing me carefully so he wouldn’t burn me with the pot. Then he paused and turned his head to meet my eyes. “I’ll not let anyt'in’ happen to ye,” he promised.
I nodded slowly, my eyes never leaving his. It was an asinine promise; he was away at school most of the time and my own parents were the ones who put me in that situation in the first place. But even though it had been only hours since we’d met and most of that time I’d spent completely pissed off because he was an asshole… I still believed every word he said.
“Are ye alright, dear?” Peg asked, hopping off the couch as we made our way inside.
“I’m fine, I made dinner—”
“What happened, why was that man—”
“Leave it, Mum,” Patrick cut her off sternly.
“But Patrick—”
“I said to leave it.” He stared at Peg in some sort of silent communication that I didn’t understand. Then, to my surprise, she relented. Just like that.
“Well, I’m glad yer here,” she said with a smile, “And ye brought dinner!”
She ushered me into the kitchen, chattering about nothing in particular, and I felt myself beginning to relax. There was just something about her that automatically put me at ease—as if nothing bad would happen as long as I was with her. As we sat down to eat, things grew more and more comfortable. They didn’t bring up anything that had happened that evening, choosing instead to tell funny stories and local gossip. It was the best dinner I’d ever had.
“Well, do ye want to go or not?” Patrick asked as I stared at my empty bowl.
“What?” I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t even heard the first question.
“I’m goin’ to meet up wit’ some lads to play basketball. Ye want to come?”
“Basketball?”
“Dat’s what I just said. Ye a parrot?”
“You’re such a dick!”