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A greenish tint appears on her cheeks.
I step next to her and put my arm around her waist. Her body stiffens. She slowly looks up.
"Ya want to save him? Or no?" I question again.
She looks back at her da.
He nods. "Go with him."
My fingers curl in a fist at my side. It's taking everything I have not to punch him. He's a piece of shit and doesn't deserve her. Still, I'm not backing down. A bet is a bet, and a debt is a debt.
She blinks hard, her eyes glistening. "Ya really bet me."
"There was no other way," he insists.
"Ya shouldn't have taken the bet!" she cries out.
Her da looks away.
Pathetic coward.
I interject, "Aye, but he did. And now ya have a choice to make, lass."
Her anger gets redistributed to me. "You're sick."
"Aye. I am. But that's not what we're debating, is it?"
She stays quiet.
I add, "Ya have three seconds to make a choice. I'm not going to force ya either way. It's one hundred percent your decision to make."
She scoffs. "Is that what ya tell yourself so ya can sleep at night?"
I shrug. "I don't have any problems sleeping at night. Now, three…two…one." I arch my eyebrows.
She looks at her da again.
He begs, "Please, go with him."
What a sad sack of shit.
She lifts her chin and squares her shoulders, her eyes turning to slits as she locks them on me, ordering, "Don't ya dare touch my father."
An adrenaline buzz higher than I've felt in a long time hits me. But it also mixes with disgust. I warn Malachy, "You're lucky this time. Stop placing bets ya can't afford. Especially now that ya have nothing left."
I slide my hand around Maeve's waist, leading her out through the falling-apart house and glancing around. The wallpaper's peeling in corners, and it's so faded you can't even tell the pattern anymore. And there's barely any furniture. I'm sure it's because he's bet it away.
She doesn't fight me when I open the door. The heavy rain makes it hard to see. I grab the umbrella she must have left on the porch and quickly navigate her through the downpour to my car. Then I open the passenger door, ordering, "Get in."
She obeys.
I shut the door and move around to the driver's side. I get into the car, start the engine, then pull out of the driveway.
Silence and a thick tension build between us, making me giddy. I thrive on making people uncomfortable. I love having the upper hand and knowing they can do nothing to get out of it.
And Maeve made her choice. Now, it's her job to follow through whether she hates me or not.
I race down the street faster than I should in the rain.
