‘Darlin’, they’re making it sound like you’re starring in Chastity’s shoots.’
‘That I star in porn?’ She sounds saddened, her voice small. And I have neither the heart nor the balls to tell her it’s worse than that. To tell her that one paper in particular made it sound like she’s a high-class prostitute.
‘Oh, my Lord. What am I going to do?’
Already, my mind is working in overdrive. ‘Do you have a solicitor... a lawyer, I mean?’
‘No, I... wait.’ There’s conversation on the other side of the phone, words I don’t quite catch before she’s back. ‘Chas says she can consult her family guy.’
‘I feel like I should come over there.’ My heart does, at least. My head, not so much.
‘No, don’t,’ she advises softly. ‘It’s not necessary. Besides, this isn’t your problem.’
‘I might not be the root cause, but I can see how I can’t have helped. I smashed his nose, for a start.’
‘Bones and cartilage heal, Keir. Hearts, too.’ I don’t know what she means by that, but I don’t get a chance to protest or question as she carries on. ‘Look, you have your own reputation to protect. A child to think about.’
She’s right, of course, and when I look up, said child is at the door to my office, the ball of calico kitten cradled in her arms. My head immediately swings to the window behind me as though I could sense the black presence of the press lurking there. Loitering in the hedgerows, hiding in the flowerbeds, just waiting to spring out and embroil my child in this mess.Ridiculous.
‘Are you still there?’
‘Aye. I am.’
‘Look, give it a few days. Let things cool down.’
‘That sounds... ’ Like a relief. A huge relief. And a copout and everything in between. I want to be there for her, hold her in my arms, protect her with my being. I’m a big lad—I can take care of myself—but can I protect Paisley and Sorcha at the same time? Probably not.
Which makes me feel like a total shit.
‘You’re sure you don’t want me to come over? Or maybe you could pack a bag and come stay here?’ As much as the thought appeals to me— all the people I want to take care of, safe and under one roof—I’m not sure it would be for the best. But I want to do something—I want to help.
‘This isn’t your fight,’ she says with a sigh. ‘I know this is hard for you to hear, but you said it yourself; I’m trouble, Keir. You can’t fix this.’
Chapter 24
KEIR
‘You’re not dressed for work? Turning from the pantry with a loaf of bread in hand, Agnes looks a little startled when I appear in the kitchen. She frowns as she takes in my appearance; my running shoes, shorts, and t-shirt, sweat causing the fabric of the latter to stick my skin. ‘You’ll be late to take the bairn to school.’
‘Flynn’s coming to take her. I’ve got a few calls I need to make.’ I keep my expression impassive despite experiencing what it must feel like to be a volcano internally. I thought the run would help. Thought I might be able to run off the steam, or maybe exhaust myself, especially as I’ve barely slept all night.
‘Can you go with them and walk her to class?’ I feel a bit of a shit for asking because I’ve made the school run my thing. I might not always be here to tuck Sorcha into bed, but if I can, I’ll always be there to take her to school. If I’m ever travelling, Flynn and Agnes step in. I do have a car service I can rely on, but I prefer to trust the people closest to me if I can.
‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear,’ Agnes says as Flynn enters the kitchen.
‘Agnes, babe,’ he says, clutching his heart. ‘You wound me.’ He swipes a shiny red apple from the large fruit bowl on the breakfast bar, polishing it on the lapel of his blue suit.
‘Not yet, I haven’t,’ she answers, taking the apple out of his hand and depositing it back. ‘But it can be arranged, y’ken.’
‘He promised not to curse at the traffic this morning. Didn’t you, Flynn?’
‘That’s right, Scorcher,’ he answers using his silly nickname for her, picking her up and spinning her in his arms. ‘I’ll try my very best.’
‘It’s Sorcha,’ my daughter answers, giggling as she pulls on his arm.
‘And I’ll believe it when I see it,’ Agnes grumbles, but I barely hear as I turn my attention to my daughter.
‘What have I told you about opening the front door without telling Agnes or me first?’ Despite trying to keep a tight rein on my temper, both adults in the room look surprised by my tone. In contrast, my daughter, it appears, couldn’t be less concerned.
