Page 20 of Paddy
“All you need to know is that I'm a degenerate. I put bad men away and send even worse ones home to their makers. I'm careful. I'm effective. And lastly, there ain’t shite in this world that I fear. Your husband's a wise man for bringing me on. Anyone who wants to harm you would have to go through me first, and I don't break easily.” He ended with a wink.
A wink that had me nearly clutching my pearls. If I were fifteen years younger, I may have mistaken it for a come-on, but if there was one trait a face like his was going to embody, it was the tempting skill of a snake charmer. I snatched the cigarette from his hand and brought it to my lips to take a drag. He laughed, the tension between us easing up at his admission of the truth.
“Well, I guess that means Ican'tfire you.” Another laugh.
“Sweetheart, you never had the reigns to fire me.” There his mouth went, dogpiling more of that tension.
“Well just so you know, the old rules still stand. No matter what my husband hired you for, we're still paying you under the guise that you're the nanny. To keep the peace, I'd rather not let himknowthat I know. We argue about enough things,” I said, running a hand down my dress to compose myself. He had this look in his eyes, the smile spreading across his face both criminal and terrifying.
“Trust me, Mrs. Washington. If there's one thing you can guarantee with a man like me, is that I know how to guard a bloody secret.”
Ten
Paddy
Cracking metal. Dust and smoke. Blinded by debris. The smell of melted flesh combined with the agonizing pain that went with it. “Leave me. I’m not going to make it.”
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
Shooting up, the knocking remained consistent outside my dream. Even when I tried, random noises still unregulated me. Could be a slamming door, a loud popping sound. Thunder and fireworks were the worst. I was getting better, but I still experienced shell shock from time to time.
Looking down at my leg, in a state of panic, I rushed to roll the sleeve over my deformity. It helped not to look at it. When I didn't have to look at it, I could just pretend I was normal. “Just a minute,” I yelled back, praying whoever was on the other side had patience not to use a spare key.
My family claimed I shouldn't be embarrassed. Everyone thought I should feel lucky that I even had legs at all. But most people couldn't look at my leg without being disturbed by it. So, to give myself peace, I typically wore the sleeve, even to sleep.
If I ever or whenever I got around to being with a woman, I just didn't take my clothes off. It was my thing. Most lasses didn't question it, so long as I was fucking their brains out.
Slipping into a clean pair of slacks, it was like you couldn't even tell. I liked to keep it that way.
Assuming it could only be one of three people, I wasn't surprised to find Ms. Washington on the other end. Ms. Washington was definitely one of those high maintenance broads. Red carpet ready at six in the morning.
The black jumpsuit fighting for attention against her curves highlighted just enough to know what you were working with, but leave enough to the imagination. Not going to lie, the thought of seeing Ms. Washington five days or more a week was really having me question whether I had a type.
“Yes, Mrs. Washington?”
Ms. Washington blew out a flustered breath, unable to look me in the eye. It really took her pointing in my direction to understand what unnerved her so much. “You forgot something.”
In my rush to ensure I’d put on pants, I hadn't even worried about putting on a shirt. Despite my top half not being a source of insecurity for me, it still wasn't polite to be so exposed to a married woman.
Excusing myself, I slipped into an undershirt for the time being to see what it was she needed.
“What is that? Your…your art?” As she pointed to the tattoo that stretched across my forearm, shoulder, chest and lower neck.
My siblings and I all had matching ones. Tadhg’s was a bear. Bellamy's a stag. Cillian’s tattoo was a wolf. Mine?
“It’s a raven. In Celtic lore, ravens represent wisdom, protection and death, something we share in common,” I explained.
“Does it hurt?”
“I've been through worse. Did you need something?” Mrs. Washington rolled on the balls of her feet, wearing a controlled smirk that breathed life into every nerve in my body. This woman was gorgeous.
“I know technically you're not Elijah's nanny. But I know if we stopped playing our roles, Vernon would be bound to suspect something.”
The truth was bound to come out at some point, I’m just glad I didn’t have to pretend with Ms. Washington anymore, as it certainly reduced some of the hostile tension between us knowing I was here for her safety more than anything.
“Most of all, Elijah doesn't know. He seems to respond well to you, so I was wondering if just for today, you might not mind getting him ready for school?”
“That's actually no problem at all. Said I’d share your burden with you. And with the kid, the feelings mutual,” I also added.