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Granted, we didn’t grow up together, but he was off-limits. Completely and strictly off-limits.
“Which fucker gave the new kid red fire?” Joan hollered, staring down everyone. As petite as she was, she was as compact as a grenade. People literally feared her.
There was a smattering of murmurs, but not surprisingly, no one owned up to it.
“It could have been Jason himself,” I suggested. I searched for Jason’s dark hair, but didn’t see him anywhere.
“Take the kid home, Matty,” Filipe said. Thankfully, I hadn’t consumed more than a few sips, so I’d be able to drive without issue. “Don’t forget about the statue in the back,” Filipe added.
I nodded. Earlier, after Filipe, Joan, and I looked over the artifact in the back of the SUV, Joan agreed to reach out to a few of her contacts to see how quickly we could get it off our hands. The longer we had the contraband, the easier it would be to trace it back to us.
“Joan, do you think you can assist Ciaran to the car?” I asked. Ciaran’s ice-chip eyes were throwing daggers at me. “He likes you and he’s sure as hell not going to accept my help climbing the boulders.”
“Good point,” Joan said, taking control. She approached Ciaran, rubbing his lower back. “Can I take you back, cutie?”
“Will I have to look at his ugly face?” Ciaran pointed at me.
“Only for a little while longer, honey. Once you’re back in your bedroom, you can lock the door and forget all about Matty’s stupid face.”
“Hey,” I protested.
“You want my help or not?” Joan retorted. I merely looked heavenward. To Ciaran, she said, “Ready?”
Ciaran grumbled his consent.
It took some effort, but we navigated over the boulders and successfully buckled him into the SUV’s front passenger seat.
“I’ve got it from here,” I told Joan. Ciaran was out of it by this point. He was twirling Joan’s necklace in his fingers.
“So sparkly,” Ciaran said to no one.
She studied Ciaran’s face for a brief second and fixed his hair. “He’s such a cutie.”
From the driver’s seat, I growled out, “Ciaran is off-limits.”
“Relax, Matty,” she replied. Closing the passenger door, she walked to my side. She placed a gentle kiss on the non-split side of my mouth. “Call me crazy, but after witnessing tonight’s events, I have a feeling I’m not his type.”
Her eyes found mine and I sensed a deeper question there. I could tell she wanted to ask about my actions, but as my friend, she refrained. There’d been a lot of change in my life this week. Joan would give me a few days’ reprieve.
It wasn’t a long drive back to the estate. I parked on the top deck, near the main entrance, with the intention of parking in the garage once I got Ciaran into the guesthouse.
“All right, Ciaran,” I said as I unbuckled his seatbelt. It was like talking to a toddler. “Ready to go to bed?”
“Mmhm,” he mumbled.
“Lovely.”
I assisted Ciaran as best I could, but he stumbled almost from the first step, dragging me down with him. At this rate we’d be old men by the time we got upstairs.
It was clear I was going to have to carry the damn fool.
At least he was a quiet drunk. The last thing I needed was Ciaran becoming a crooner at two in the morning.
Lifting Ciaran in my arms took some doing. It wasn’t every day I carried a fully grown human in my arms. But powerlifting was part of my dryland training, so the main thing I needed to be careful about was doors, walls, or things that could trip me going up the stairs.
When I hoisted him up, Ciaran’s arms came around my shoulders and I felt the sharp sting there.
Right…I had to be careful of my shoulder.
