Part 67 (1/2)

Ultimately, her relations.h.i.+p with Robert Macintyre paid the price. After that, her entire life exploded into rage and revenge.

So now we had the why as well as the how. The only question left was, what? As in, What now?

Cole was gone, but somewhere out there Ned Sinclair was still plotting my death. Tomorrow I'd worry about him. Tonight, I was too tired, my brain too fried.

Sarah was shaking hands with Harris, saying thanks and good-bye. The second he walked off, I made my way over to her. She smiled. I smiled back. Then I leaned over and whispered in her ear.

She thought it over for a grand total of one split second.

”Absolutely,” she answered.

Chapter 106

JESUS, WHAT THE h.e.l.l happened to you two?

The guy pouring us the shots of tequila never came right out and said it. Nor did any of the other patrons at the bar, who couldn't help staring. Our clothes were ripped and singed, our faces and hands filthy. Basically we looked as if we'd been dragged through h.e.l.l and back.

It's a good thing we didn't give a d.a.m.n.

And after about a half dozen more tequila shots, we really didn't give a d.a.m.n.

Sarah and I had grabbed the last two stools at the end of the bar in what was basically the first place we could find near Saint Alexander's that served alcohol. It was a small restaurant called Deuces and Eights, one of those ”local joints” with dinner specials written on a blackboard and a bunch of softball-league trophies on display.

”Wow,” I said, watching Sarah throw back yet another shot with ease. ”I had no idea.”

”About what?” she asked, smacking her lips, then wiping her mouth.

”That you could drink like that. You're not even Irish.”

She laughed. ”Yeah, I know, and I'm a girl, too.”

”Not like any I know.”

”Careful, O'Hara,” she said. ”That sounded dangerously close to being a compliment.”

”Must be the tequila talking.”

”In that case, it's time for another.”

She waved to the bartender, who was loading the fridge underneath the cash register with more beers, a brown-and-green a.s.sortment of Budweisers and Rolling Rocks.

”Are you sure?” I asked.

She folded her arms. ”Did you or did you not whisper in my ear that we should both get drunk?”