Читать книгу Maggie Jamieson Crime Thriller - Noelle Holten - Страница 18

Patrick stood back from the bathroom window. Fucking prick should mind his own business. He gripped the sink and tried to control his breathing. It wouldn’t have bothered him so much if he hadn’t been drinking that evening. But he had, and he was fuming now. Blaming it on the alcohol made him feel better. He’d often say to Lucy, ‘If I’d been sober, that would never have happened,’ but Patrick knew the truth. It would have. Patrick hated feeling out of control, hated people treating him like a muppet. It wasn’t his fault if people kept winding him up. People like Lucy. People like Lucy’s dad. They did it on purpose. Especially when Lucy used her probation speak. If she’s going to treat me like an offender, I may as well behave like one.

Patrick loved Lucy despite all the arguments … the other women in his life were just a means to an end. A man has needs, and if Lucy didn’t want to fulfil them, he knew plenty of other women who would. Maybe he should make a move on Mel, make Lucy really appreciate what she has. He’d never leave her though. There was no way she’d leave him either. He’d make sure of that.

He flushed the toilet when he heard her come back inside and went into Siobhan’s room.

Inside the house, Lucy shut the door and leaned against it. Looking around the kitchen, she knew she’d have to clean up before going to bed. She turned on the hot water tap and started to fill the sink. While she waited, she wiped down the counters, and the dining table. Bitterness filled her mouth at the fact that her sister had reciprocated Patrick’s flirting. Actually enjoyed it. Especially after Lucy had confronted her and told her how she felt. Lucy wiped the table harder, her jaw tight. She thought her sister was better than that.

Lucy could hear Patrick upstairs with Siobhan. Although unusual, she was grateful that he was getting Siobhan ready for bed. She didn’t have the energy. It still made her suspicious, though. Patrick never did anything without expecting something in return, even for his own child. She wouldn’t let that prey on her mind; instead she wanted to get the kitchen cleaned and get up to bed before Patrick came down, that way, she might avoid any argument.

As she was finishing the last of the dishes she heard him on the stairs. Staring out the window at the overgrown back garden, her heart sank. She’d missed her opportunity. With a sigh, she prepared herself for whatever insulting comments he was about to unleash on her.

‘So, what’s your dad’s problem then?’ The accusation in Patrick’s voice was undeniable.

‘What are you talking about? My dad barely said two words all evening.’

‘Ah. OK. Are we playing that game then? I hate when you play dumb, Lucy … really fucking annoys me.’ Patrick’s lip curled in that sneer that Lucy recognized; she had to think fast, or something bad was going to happen.

‘Seriously, Patrick. I have no clue what you’re talking about.’

Patrick prodded her shoulder sharply as he accentuated each word spoken. ‘Don’t. Worry. I. Know. Exactly. What. I. Am. Talking. About.’ He then tapped his nose and winked. Making his way to the fridge, he peeked past the open door, staring at Lucy as he took out a can and cracked it open. He knew she hated that sound.

Lucy cringed and turned away. He won. She placed the tea towel on the counter and started to walk off. Patrick’s phone pinged indicating he had a text message. Just as Lucy reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard Patrick call out, ‘Well, will you looky here! Looks like your sister might fancy a piece of me.’ Lucy stopped dead in her tracks. Her head was screaming, Ignore him. He’s just doing this to wind you up. She clenched her jaw and began to turn around. What the hell was Mel playing at? When did she start texting MY husband?

Lucy was on her way back to the kitchen when Patrick came out. ‘Oh, you’re back. I thought you were slinking off to bed. And not even a goodnight kiss.’

‘What did my sister want?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’

She swallowed down her rage.

‘Forget it. I’m going upstairs.’

She made a move to turn around, but Patrick was fast. He grabbed her by her upper arm and pulled her close. He gripped her mouth, his thumb and index finger pinching her face so her lips puckered, and he kissed her. Hard. When she eventually broke free, he leaned into her ear and whispered, ‘I wonder if your sister kisses better.’