Wicked Burn(84)
NINETEEN
Niall quickly shoved the letter she’d just received into her shorts pocket when she heard someone approaching on the gravel driveway that evening.
“The mail finally came, huh?” Meg said in a friendly fashion. They’d quickly made up last night after their tiff in the car.
“Charlie’s mail truck gave out on him,” Niall explained as she passed the mail to Meg.
“I’ll bet he was fit to be tied,” Meg murmured amusedly as she flipped through the envelopes. Charlie Travers was a local institution whose mail deliveries usually arrived like clockwork. They began to walk slowly back to the house. The crystalline day had evolved into a delicious, lazy summer evening, the sort of night that Niall associated with youth and innocent dreams and endless possibilities. Definitely not the kinds of things that went along with the letter that burned in her pocket at present like a piece of hot coal.
“How’s Donny been doing in your class?” Meg asked.
“He’s excelling at the class itself. He never misses, never is a minute late. He’s very intelligent, but he gets really quiet sometimes . . . moody, you know? I was hoping he would make more friends,” Niall mused. Her step slowed as she studied Meg’s profile. “Why do you ask?”
“I saw Sheriff Madigan today in town. He said that Donny’s oldest brother, Errol—the worst of the bunch—is home on parole. That’s sure to make Donny a little extra moody. Just what the kid needs this week, first Jake getting arrested and now this.” Meg shook her head worriedly. “The last time Errol got busted, it was for selling guns along with drugs. He was doing it out of their house.”
“But surely with the police watching him so closely, and being on parole, Errol won’t—”
“It’s not what Errol is selling or not selling that I’m worried about most,” Meg said, cutting her off. “It’s the guys Errol double-crossed and cheated regularly before he got sent up to Joliet that I’m concerned about.”
“He was in Joliet Prison?” Niall asked shakily. She knew the kind of prisoners they kept in Joliet. She knew all too well.
Meg nodded.
Niall inhaled slowly. “Have you told Vic?”
“He’s going to drive over in a little bit and try to talk Donny into staying here tonight.”
“Good,” Niall responded quickly. Her eyes inevitably flickered over to Vic’s cottage. It wasn’t a long-term solution, but the more the boy was safe at the farm the less time he spent in the unhealthy environment of his brothers’ home.
Meg sighed and scraped her fingers through her dark hair, as though trying to clear her mind of worries over which she had limited control. “Do you want to take Vic’s mail out to him?”
Niall blinked, realizing Meg must have noticed where she’d been staring, maybe even recognized the longing in her gaze. She knew that Meg was curious about what was going on with Niall and her brother, but Niall felt too vulnerable about what had happened earlier that day to chat about it.
“He’s writing right now,” Niall said as she began to walk slowly. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Is that right?” Meg asked doubtfully.
“Yes,” Niall said firmly. And then, in an attempt to change the subject, “Hey, do you want to go see a movie in El Paso with me right now?”
“Sure,” Meg said as she studied Niall’s face closely.
Niall forced a bright smile. “Good. There’s a romantic comedy playing at that little theater downtown that I never got to see when it first opened.”
All in all, Niall thought her idea for the movie had been inspired. Later that night, when she bade Meg good night and retired to her room, Meg hadn’t had much of an opportunity to question Niall about Vic. They raced to town in order to catch the beginning of the show. Of course they’d been totally absorbed during the movie and Niall managed to keep Meg talking about the plot and the actors on the ride home. By the time she’d hugged Meg and gone upstairs to bed, she’d managed to spend a nice evening with her friend without having to discuss the potentially volatile topic of her relationship with Vic.
In the middle of the night she startled anxiously into wakefulness. She was so accustomed to awakening in such a fashion that it didn’t strike her immediately that she hadn’t been dreaming.
“Shhh,” a deep whisper soothed, followed by a hand caressing her neck.
“Vic?” She blinked in amazement at the large shadow that sat on the edge of her bed. Her surprise at him being there never got the chance to ease before he stood and pulled back the covers. The air-conditioning felt cool on her skin, but Vic radiated heat when he slid his arms beneath her and lifted her as if she weighed as much as her pillow.
“Vic, what the—”
“I’m taking you to my bed, where you belong,” he said in a low voice as he reached for the door.
It felt like heaven to hear him say that, to pretend that he meant more by it than just the purely sexual parameters in which he’d defined their relationship. She pressed her face briefly to his chest and inhaled his clean, spicy scent.
“How’d your work go?” Niall asked him huskily when they were on the gravel turnabout beneath a globe of bright stars set in a lacquered midnight blue sky. She pressed her lips to his neck lightly, skimming them across his skin between kisses. His footsteps faltered slightly at her caress, then speeded up.