Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(10)

“Sometimes, Liam, you’re too nice.”

“Says you.”

“Not nice enough.”

That’s an odd thing to say. “Have you planned a New Year’s party yet?” I ask, grabbing at a subject change.

“Not yet. I need to talk to Dylan and Jem, see if we’re going to have something big at his again.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure I get to that, let me know.”

“It’ll be a no kids party, Liam, so leave your little friend at home,” teases Bryn.

“Yeah, right. You’re funny.”

“Seriously, though, is there anything you want to talk about?”

Ella hops up and down in front of me, rubbing her bare arms. Did she forget her coat? “Uncle Liam. Please.”

Bryn laughs raucously down the phone. “Speak to you later, Uncle Liam.”

I pull my eyebrows together, wondering why I bothered calling him. I knew the reason underneath his contacting me was Honey, but with chicks, we stay out of each other’s business. Unless you’re Dylan and Jem, but I don’t even want to know what goes on between them and girls.

“Aren’t you cold? Should we go home?” I ask Ella hopefully. I overestimated the enjoyment level of a trip to a children’s playground in the middle of winter.

She pouts. “Can I have a little go on the swings? Can you push me?”

Huffing, I stand and tread across the bark toward the swings. She hops onto one and waits. I scratch my neck and look around. I can’t help but always be on semi-alert for someone with a camera. I guess I’m not exciting enough to be pursued at stupid o’clock on a Saturday morning in the cold.

Ella isn’t satisfied with gentle swinging and her knuckles whiten, gripping the chain as I push her higher.

What the hell am I doing?

“How high does your dad push you?” I ask.

“He doesn’t take me to the park.”

“Oh.” Weird. I push her again. “Never?”

“He’s not home much.”

“Does he work a long way from home?”

“No, he likes to go to the gym. And the pub. He sleeps lots because it makes him tired.”

Ella’s dad doesn’t take her to the park? Isn’t that what dads are supposed to do? She squeals as I push her higher.

“Do you think he’ll come for Christmas?” asks Ella. “I miss him.”

Oh, shit. Now what have I done by mentioning him? “Um. Ask your mum?”

“I did. She said she doesn’t know.”

Well, how the hell would I know?

“Ella!” A woman’s voice carries through the cool wind toward us.

I look around. Cerys storms across the grass toward me and Ella, holding something blue in her hand. As she approaches, she fixes me with the same unimpressed stare as I got in the kitchen the other night. Ella has the momentum she wants on the swing and the whole contraption squeaks as she flies above our heads.

“What do you think you’re doing?” yells Cerys.

“What?” I ask.

“You take her out without telling anyone and don’t even put her coat on!” She shoves the blue puffed jacket at me and I grab it in surprise, staring back into the woman’s angry, pink face. She looks up at her daughter. “Well done, you managed to get shoes on her!”

The swing creaks and I step back.

“Ella! Slow down!” shouts her mum. “Didn’t you think how dangerous this is for a four year old?” she snaps at me.

“It’s a swing!”

“Look how high she is!”

“She’s okay.”

“How would you know?” After another glare, she turns back to her daughter. “Ella! Stop right now and put your coat on!”

Ella stops swinging her legs and her mouth turns down at the corners. She watches her mum warily as the swing comes to a stop. Cerys snatches the jacket back from me and roughly shoves her daughter’s arms in.

“I wanted to go to the park!” Ella protests. “And you were asleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone before taking her? I woke up and she was gone!” Cerys half-shouts at me.

“Whoa. Okay. Everyone was asleep; I thought I’d help out.”

“What if something happened to her?”

“Like what? We’re five minutes from the house. I think you’re over-reacting.”

“Someone like you doesn’t know how to look after a child.”

“What do you mean someone like me?” She’s pissing me off now and I wish I’d stayed out of her life.

“It’s not like you know what to do with them. When was the last time you looked after a kid?”

“I took her to the playground! What did you think I was going to do? Take her to my drug dealer or leave her with a groupie? For f-uck’s sake!” I stomp away, across the grass.

“Don’t swear around my daughter!” she yells after me.

I stop. “At least I took her to the park!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ella says her dad doesn’t.”

“That has nothing to do with you!”

She’s right. I’ve no idea why I said it. “Fine! I’ll keep away from you both! I just wanted to help.” I continue away from them, muttering expletives under my breath.