The noise drove me fucking insane. Hearing people chew grated on me like nails on a chalkboard.
He stopped when he noticed the way I was looking at him. “You have issues, Cash.”
“Yeah,” I said. “And killing men who chew in my ear is one of ’em.”
He went to open his mouth again, but I held a hand up. I narrowed my eyes.
Someone must’ve given the archer a cape that covered her hair and quiver. She weaved through the masses, making her way to the front of the crowd. She was tall enough to make people move out of her way with ease. A fucking force of a woman. The kind of woman I always said had good bones.
The MC of the archery games had brought the winner up, holding his arm in the air, while the crowd roared with applause. After a second, the MC made a motion for the crowd to settle.
“Scotty Campbell!” He announced. “You have won the grandest of prizes!” His eyes scanned the crowd until he found the archer. The entire crowd seemed to follow his gaze, all heads turning toward her. “Maeve—” Before he could finish her fake name, she threw the cape to the ground, revealing her gear, and started slaying each of the contestants’ targets.
She made her way, hitting the bulls-eye where the contestants hadn’t, and when she came to Scotty Campbell’s prized shot, her eyes narrowed even further as she pulled back the bow. With a collective released breath from the crowd, she let the arrow fly. Upon impact, it penetrated straight through the other wooden arrow, splitting it in half. The Robin Hood shot. Some people called it a once in a lifetime shot.
“Feck me.” Raff whistled.
The crowd became silent, not sure where to look the longest, at the shot or at her. She turned toward the MC and Campbell, and without a tremble in her voice, said, “I’m the only one allowed to choose my husband!”
The crowd roared again, and the MC messed Campbell’s thinning hair as he cheered along with them.
“That had to hurt his pride,” Raff said, one hand clapping against his arm so he wouldn’t lose hisfeckingnuts. “She’s savage, man. Truly savage. I didn’t realize feminists were rife in medieval times.”
The archer turned those heavenly eyes on me once again, as narrowed as they ever were, and it wasn’t hard to imagine the arrows protecting the gates of heaven piercing straight through my heart, sending my soul to hell. As a prize, she would steal the color of my eyes and use them as feathers on her arrows.
6
Keely
On the ride home from the fair, I wondered if there was a way to purge my brain. Do one of those detoxes everyone raved about, but instead of doing it for my body, do it for the wellness of my mind.
Because when one infuriating,probably fucking crazyIrishmaraudergot into my brain, it was almost impossible to get him out. He kept pillaging around, taking what he wanted—my time and attention.
I refused to give them up.
Yet.
There they went. Straight to him.
Even in that moment, I was still thinking about him and what had happened at the fair. My reaction to him tookmeby surprise. As soon as I laid eyes on him, it felt like my breath had been knocked from my lungs. The man looked fucking amazing in a t-shirt and jeans, as fine as he’d looked in a suit.
For someone who was probably put together in hell, he was heaven to look at.
His eyes were green; his limbal ring thick and black. It made him look wicked. And for the first time, I noticed a tattoo on his neck: a tiger with the same color eyes. The collar of his coat had hidden it when we’d met at the cemetery. It spanned from underneath his ear to the end of his neck, ending right above his collarbone. It looked like it was going to climb out of his skin and devour me.
Heat crept up my neck at the thought of it.Think about something else. Anything else.
Happenstance. That was the word he’d used to describe our meeting at the cemetery, and he’d said it with that soft and lyrical Irish lilt.
Happenstance my ass.Even in such a dead place, he was such a life force. His moves were calculated and done with purpose.
Yeah, that wasn’t technically thinking about something else, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
I’d always go back to our meeting at the cemetery. Something had been nagging me about it, and I couldn’t figure out what. Not until it hit me at the fair: this was New York. If you met someone twice, there was probably more to it. Then whenCashturned up as my brother’s new boss? The one who gave him a fully restored vintage car as abonus? My bullshit meter exploded.
The cemetery.Bam.
Harrison’s new boss.Bam.
