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There were times when Bryn would swear Patrick, rather than she, was part machine. He could just…switch things off. She envied that a little.
As he accepted his hot cup of cocoa, he just seemed like a normal guy. His five-o’clock shadow was pronounced, and he looked tired, but not like the same ice-cold professional who’d done the things he’d done tonight. When that switch was off, it was off.
He looked like a man who badly needed human contact, just now. And when he saw her watching him, he smiled. There was warmth in that, and understanding. If we were alone…But they weren’t. All too often, really, they weren’t.
Liam joined them with his own drink. “So,” he said. “I gather tonight was productive? And, from Mr. Fideli’s bandage, eventful?”
“You could say that. Pat almost shot me in the head,” Joe said, with remarkable cheer. “Mmm, good cocoa. ”
“Almost doesn’t count,” Pat said. “I told you, he was going to drop you if I didn’t drop him first. ”
“Yeah, and I’m still partially deaf in that ear from the round he popped off on the way down. Next time, just give me a signal first, ’kay? I’d like to get a last prayer sent up. ”
“I thought working with me, you’d be fully paid up on that account at all times. ”
“Point,” Joe said, and toasted him. “You know what would make this so much better? Alcohol. ”
“Irish whiskey, coming up,” Liam said, and rose to get it. He came back and poured a shot into each of their cups, including his own. “To surviving. May it happen every day. ”
“Every day,” Joe said, and clinked china with Liam. Pat and Bryn echoed him, although Bryn’s had a strong taste of irony to it. Joe sipped, and winced. “Damn, I think I cracked another rib. ” He held out the cocoa. “Medic?”
Liam added a second shot.
“Aren’t you driving home?” Bryn asked, and saw Joe and Pat exchange a lightning-fast glance.
“Nah, thought I’d stick here tonight. No sense in waking up Kylie. I already let her know I’d probably be out. ” He sounded casual, and if she hadn’t caught the look that had passed between the two men, she would have thought it was legitimate. “Besides, staying here at the Millionaire Home for Wayward Orphans ain’t exactly stressful. ”
Something was up. Bryn drained her cocoa, and the warm flush of the alcohol only stayed in her system for a few minutes before it faded, carried off by those industrious little nightmare machines. “I’m going to check on Annie,” she said. “Good night. Thanks for the cocoa, Liam. ”
He nodded to her with another of those warm, gentle smiles. “I’m glad you found her safe. ”
As she pushed her chair back, Patrick rose as well. He took both their cups to the sink and rinsed them, then put them in the dishwasher. Liam watched him with, Bryn thought, a certain amount of alarm, as if he hated seeing anyone else touching things in his kitchen. Which was probably the case. “I’m off, too,” Pat said, and Joe raised a hand in lazy farewell.
“Usual time for breakfast?” Liam asked.
“I’ll be off early tomorrow. I’ll catch some coffee on the way in the morning. Don’t get up. ”
“But it’s the most important meal of the day!” Joe called after him, and then, to Liam, “Listen, if you want to make me breakfast, I’m damn sure going to let you. …”
His voice faded behind her as she followed Patrick through the dimly lit rooms. One of the estate’s many dogs—a greyhound—watched them from the comfort of his bed in the corner of the gorgeous sitting room but didn’t get up; they were all more Liam’s pets than Pat’s or Bryn’s.
She wasn’t planning on catching up with Patrick, but she found herself moving faster nevertheless, and by the time he was at the top of the stairs to the second floor, she was beside him, step for step.
Patrick stopped. “You’re checking on Annie?” His voice was neutral, and she couldn’t read his face at all.
“I should,” she said.
“Good night, then. ”
“Yes, good night,” Bryn said, and watched him walk away. He didn’t glance back, just opened his bedroom door and closed it with a firm click. She went to Annie’s room and checked her door: still locked. Bryn turned the key in the lock, slid it open a crack, and peeked inside.
Annie was asleep in a tangled mound of covers and a storm of disordered brown hair. She looked so young this way and so thin that it made Bryn’s heart ache.
But she was breathing steadily, and she looked…alive.
And she was safe. Safe, finally.
Bryn shut the door again, turned the key, and leaned her forehead against the heavy wood. It smelled of lemon polish, a comforting, normal thing, and for a few seconds she didn’t move at all.
