Kelly Jamieson - Irish Sex Fairy

Keara’s eyes closed.

“What can I get you, muirnín?” Maeve asked, touching her hair. “Anything to eat? Drink?”

“Some water,” Keara whispered. “Just water, please.”

Shane followed Maeve out to the kitchen where she poured water from the pitcher she kept in the refrigerator. She gazed at him with anxious eyes. “Do you believe that’s what happened?”

He shrugged. “No reason not to believe it. But like she said, hard to prove. Unless there were witnesses, which it doesn’t sound like, or some damage to her car. If some paint from the other vehicle is on her bumper, we’d have something to go on. Otherwise…” He met her gaze. “Single vehicle collision. We won’t charge her with anything.”

“I should hope not!”

“No drugs or alcohol involved. Her insurance company won’t be impressed.” Huh. Where were her insurance papers? He could get that started for her at least.

“I have to get back to the store.” Maeve looked frustrated. “Jayla’s not in today so I’ve no one else.”

“I’ll stay for a while.” He took the glass of water from Maeve and strode back into the bedroom. “Here you go.” He helped her sit up, pushing some of the big pillows from the bed behind her so she could sip the water. “Where’s your insurance stuff? I’ll call and get the claim started for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She lay back down.

“Whatever. Where is it?”

“No, Shane. I can do it myself.” She started to get back up and he put a hand on her shoulder and pressed her down.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re in no shape. Just let me do this, for Chrissake.”

She sighed. “My purse.” He handed her the soft leather bag and she dug it out and handed it to him.

“You rest. I’ll make some calls.” He walked to the door.

“Okay.” She watched him, eyes huge in her wan face. “Shane?”

“Yeah?” He turned at the door.

“You do look good in your uniform.”

He lifted a brow. Where the hell had that come? Must be the pain meds. One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Uh…thanks.”

Keara woke to Maeve nudging her arm.

“I can’t let you sleep too long, muirnín,” she said softly. “Can you wake up and talk for a few minutes?”

“Mmmm.” She forced her eyes open and pushed up onto her elbows. Every muscle screamed with pain and she whimpered. “Dammit.”

“You okay? What can I do?”

“Can I have more pain pills yet? What time is it?”

The room was dim but Keara could see Maeve look at her watch. “Yes, you can have more now. Here.” She shook out two tablets and handed them to her with a glass of water. Then she sat carefully on the end of the bed.

Keara downed the pills and took a few long gulps of water. Her head throbbed to the point of making her feel a little nauseous. “Well, this is no fun,” she said, lying back down.

“I’d say not.” Maeve studied her. “I feel terrible that this happened to you, muirnín.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s my own stupid fault.”

“You said someone else caused the accident.”

Keara sighed. She’d been thinking about it ever since, when she hadn’t been dozing. “I thought he did. I don’t know. Maybe I just imagined it. I was nervous with him tailgating like that, on the winding road.”

“That highway is crazy. I never should have asked you to go into Santa Melita.”

“It’s not your fault, Maeve. Maybe the guy was just trying to pass. I was slowing down and pulling over. I must have overreacted. An accident.” But she recalled how close he’d been to her car, how her heart had leaped with fear. He’d had the whole two-lane highway to pass her on.

“But he didn’t even stop. You’d think he would have stopped to help if it had been an accident.”

“Maybe he didn’t realize I’d gone over the side, once he’d passed me.”

Maybe. No. He’d absolutely known she’d gone over the side of the mountain. Had to have. Fear gripped her again, seizing her lungs and making her heart trip.

Oh shit. Here we go again. That morning when she’d set out on her errands, her focus had been on getting her mind off Shane and sex. Off sex with Shane. Now she was back to being reduced to a trembling mass of nerves and fear. And was bashed and bruised on top of it.

Tears stung her eyes and she squeezed them shut, not wanting to break down and cry in front of Maeve, but a hot tear tracked down her cheekbone and into her hair.

“Don’t cry, muirnín.” Maeve moved closer and gathered her into a hug. “Don’t cry. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“I was starting to feel better,” Keara sobbed. “I had fun at the Dunstans’ last night. And…and…Shane was f-flirting with me.” Maeve’s hand rubbed her back soothingly. “I was th-thinking about sex. Like you wanted. And…then this happens, and now I’m all scared again. Oh. I think I’m going to throw up.”

She slid from Maeve’s arms and rushed to the bathroom across the hall, fell to her knees in front of the toilet. Saliva accumulated in her mouth and she swallowed repeatedly while her stomach heaved, but nothing actually came up.

Tears wet her cheeks, and when her stomach settled she reached for the towel hanging above her and dried her face.

“Okay?” Maeve stood in the doorway, looking drawn and worried.

Ah hell. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. She climbed to her feet, her whole body aching and tight. “I’m okay.”

“It’s the concussion,” Maeve said. “In a couple of days you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” But she hadn’t been fine in weeks.

“I’ll make us some soup for dinner, how’s that? Do you want to go back to bed?”

“I think I should move around,” Keara said. If she lay around too long her muscles would just tighten up even more. Tiny hammers swung in her head but she followed Maeve to the kitchen. While Maeve bustled about heating up soup, Keara found a box of soda crackers and munched on a couple, hoping that would help her stomach. She hadn’t eaten all day and had been taking strong pain meds, which could also be making her feel sick.

This had to stop. She could not go on this way. She’d gone from prickly fear and pervading anxiety to numb and lethargic, then to annoyed—hey, it was better than dead—and yes, turned-on, and was now full circle back at clawing panic. She focused on taking in slow, regular breaths.

Why did this have to happen now? Was her mind playing tricks on her and making her think someone did this to her deliberately? It was just like the break-in at her condo all over again. She’d sworn someone had been out there, but the police were equally certain no one had been. That her paranoid imagination had just taken off. And now it had again.

Her stomach tightened and as Maeve slid a bowl of soup onto the table in front of her, she peered down at it in dismay. She picked up her spoon, knew she should eat, but felt repulsed and her stomach protested.

“You should eat something,” Maeve murmured, taking a seat at the table.

“I know I should.” She dipped her spoon into the creamy bowl. “What is it? Cream of mushroom?”

“My special mushroom chowder.”

Keara tasted it. “It’s delicious.” She ate another spoonful. And another. “I don’t think Shane believed me.”

Maeve met her eyes. “He said there was no reason not to believe you. But they won’t likely be able to find the person unless there’s some kind of evidence.”

“I know.” She huffed out a breath. “Asshole.”

“I’m going to assume you’re talking about the other driver and not Shane.”

A little snort of laughter escaped her. “No, I wasn’t talking about Shane. He was very nice to me today. A little bossy, but nice.”

“He was worried about you.”

“Well.” Keara lowered her gaze to her soup again. “He doesn’t even know me. Really. He doesn’t need to worry about me.”

“You said he was flirting with you.”

Keara sucked in her bottom lip. “Oh. Yeah. I don’t know what got into him.”

“You’re a pretty girl. Why wouldn’t he flirt with you?”

Keara laughed. “I’m not going to talk about this.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m okay, Maeve. I’ll be moving a bit slow for a day or two, but I’m okay. This was just a stupid accident.

Even as she said it, her face grew hot and tight and her throat closed up. She blinked at stinging tears, feeling as if her world was spinning out of control. If she didn’t even have control of her mind, if her brain could play tricks on her like it had been, what did that mean? How could she control anything?

She looked at Maeve and blinked back the tears. “I didn’t tell you exactly why I came here.”

Maeve regarded her solemnly. “Well, I knew it wasn’t for a holiday.”

“No.” Keara gripped her hands together in her lap. “The robbery shook me up.”

“It would shake anyone up, going through something like that.”

“But it seems to have affected me…a lot.” She rubbed the back of one hand across her nose. “I’ve been off work ever since the robbery. I was seeing a psychologist. They told me I had to, to deal with the trauma. I was supposed to go back to work last week, on Monday. Two days before I called you, I had gone in to work for a visit. I…had some kind of strange episode. Apparently it was a panic attack. Just slightly humiliating.” She struggled to get the words out, hating the way her voice was all shaky and pathetic. “And then, the night before I called you, I thought someone tried to break into my condo.”

“Oh no.” Maeve’s eyes widened and she set down her spoon.

“Except, it was nothing. I called the police and they came and it was all very embarrassing, but there was nothing there. My nerves were still shot from the robbery thing.” She swallowed. “Then I was terrified to stay there alone. That’s why I came here.”