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“And what’s that?” I ask, suddenly very curious and elated at the same time.
He tongues his cheek, as if weighing over what he should tell me. “I need access to her father’s files. Or, more specifically, I need all the housin’ information he has in Moville.”
I know that place because I took photos of that file a few minutes ago. But if I tell Punky that, he’ll know I broke into Patrick’s office to obtain that information and then the questions will start. Questions I ca
But I think about his admission and how I doubt he needs real estate information because he’s interested in investing. So what does he need it for?
“Punky! Did ya get lost?” Darcy calls out, her footsteps pounding up the stairs.
“Ah, just fuck off, will ya?” he mutters under his breath, ru
His honest response has me going against my gut and whispering quickly, “What’s your number?”
His eyes widen, but when he reads the urgency to my question, he recites it speedily.
Memorizing it, I grab my things and hurriedly walk down the hallway, diving into the safety of the main bedroom, avoiding an awkward encounter with Darcy.
Leaning up against the wall, I measure my breaths and dig into my pocket for my phone. Scrolling through my pictures, I sigh, pausing over the documents Punky needs. I do this, and there’s no turning back. Thinking about the reason I’m here, I enter Punky’s number and send him the photos with tears in my eyes.
Regret and shame overwhelm me because Punky will believe I sent these to help him. But the truth is…I did it to help myself. Puck Kelly is the reason I’m here. He’s the reason for all of this. He just doesn’t know it.
Yet.