She seems satisfied with that answer, eyes twinkling with excitement. “I have a whole idea of what I’d like. A nice back yard. Maybe a puppy for him to grow up with?”
My phone goes off in my pocket, and I pull it out. Griffin’s name flashes across the screen. My heart beats faster. When I saw him yesterday, he made it clear that he was done with me. Has he changed his mind?
“I have to take this,” I say, standing up.
“Sure. Go out in the hall.” Camille nods toward the door, lying back on the bed and getting comfortable.
When I get into the hallway and out of earshot of anyone, I pick up. “Hey, baby.”
“Paddy?” Griffin’s voice is on high alert, and my body stiffens in response. Something is very wrong. “Scotty’s been shot.”
Chapter Seven
Fumblingwiththekeysto the drugstore, I shut the front door and lock it. Scotty’s car is sitting across the street, running with the headlights on, and I catch him from the corner of my eye. His presence irritates me to no end.
Once a childhood friend, he’s now my enemy. I don’t want to share my toys in the sandbox, or swap sandwiches near the slides. I’m not asking him over to play video games when we get home. Nope. Scotty can fuck right off.
I hate that Paddy forces him to watch over me. I’m a nobody, not even associated with the mob. No one is worried about killing me, yet Paddy’s paranoia is present. It’s unwarranted, and I’m really over it.
So, instead of making the right to walk home, I turn left and head for the subway. It’s time we all move on, time for Paddy to stop trying to apologize, and time for me to get the hell over him.
And it's definitely time Scotty stops fucking following me.
I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans, walking at a brisk rate to keep distance between me and Scotty. I don’t have the energy to argue with him tonight. No, my patience was sucked dry from me days ago after my argument with Paddy.
I shouldn’t have let him go down on me. It weakened me. Lowered my defenses, causing me to ask questions I’m not ready to have answers to. Paddy’s answers only left me with more questions, and I just do not think I’m ready to delve into it.
How doesn’t he remember sleeping with a woman? Was he really so careless that he didn’t remember? Or was his conscience so riddled with guilt that he forced an entire evening out of his mind?
Paddy is a heavy drinker. PTSD, a damaged leg from war, and buried secrets that weigh on your soul can really mess with your psyche. I’m not perfect, I know that, but his demons run deeper than mine, and I don’t believe that he was sober on the night in question. Not when I see him so easily down liquor as if it’s water.
“Michael,” Scotty says.
He’s closer now. I can tell by the way he bellows my name, and it reaches me with extreme force. His footsteps are quick, catching up with mine. I don’t stop, but it doesn't matter because he’s beside me in seconds.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To let off some steam,” I say, stuffing my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.
“And where are you doing that?”
“I’m going to a bar. I’m going to get shitfaced and find myself a good-looking man to fuck. And then I’m going to take him home.To my home. And you can report to your boss that I’ve moved on from his psychotic ass. Then you can move out and stop stalking me.”
Scotty snorts, shaking his head, while I enter the subway and head to the kiosk for a ticket. “Is that what you think will happen?”
“Yes,” I say, refusing to look at him. I angrily punch the buttons on the touch screen. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. Because I’m fucking done. I’m sick of this raw feeling sitting in my chest. I can’t live with this anymore.”
The ticket spits out, and I tear it from the machine. I whip around to glare at Scotty. “It’s over between Paddy and me. My heart is ripped into pieces so fucking tiny, it can’t heal from it. He made sure of that, Scotty. And the worst part is, he never would have admitted the truth to me if he hadn’t gotten her pregnant.”
Scotty’s hard face softens into something that seems a lot like compassion. Even his green eyes seem to darken with a hint of remorse. “That isn’t what will happen, Griffin. He’s not going to let you go.”
My eyes fill with water, and I blink hard to keep the tears at bay. I can ignore the burning of the salty drops, but I refuse to allow a single tear to fall. “He has to let me go. He doesn’t have a choice.”
Scotty drags a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he does. “Griffin. If you do this and he finds out? He’ll kill whoever it is.”
I wave my hands in the air, frustration clear with the exasperated movement. “So, then don’t tell him.”
“I have to, Michael. He’s my boss, for fuck’s sake. You know better than anyone else that this life doesn’t play by the normal rules. If he finds out I’m lying…” Scotty drifts off, not needing to finish his statement.
