Page 30 of Key Change

His attention flicked between his laptop and phone. There were several jobs he could apply for. One was a part-time job in a council library three hours out of the city. It was only part-time, and it was three hours away, but he was qualified to do it. If it hadn’t been for the map, he wouldn’t have even known where the shire was. There was also a data entry job which was full time and sounded boring as hell.

He wouldn’t get either of them, so what did it matter? He’d probably never work again. With a groan, he leaned back and scrubbed his face with a hand. He didn’t want to live another forty years unemployed and hiding in his sister’s spare room.

The spark of hope Cillian’s text had caused was obliterated as the weight of failure crushed him. What if there was nothing good left for him, and he’d blown it all?

The churning in his gut began again; sweat formed in his armpits. He shoved away from the laptop and paced the formal dining room, which had become his impromptu study—unless Margot had friends over—and raked his fingers through his hair.

Before he had a complete freak out, he padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. He filled the glass, took a swig, and then dumped in some ice cubes. He kept one cube in his hand, focusing on the cold to calm himself.

Water dripped from his fist to the floor.

“Are you alright?” Margot asked from where she sat with a coffee and the newspaper, the same way she did most Saturday mornings.

“Fine.” He dropped the ice cube in the sink. He needed to see a doctor… “I think I need something for the panic attacks.”

She studied him for several heartbeats. “Therapy.”

“And how am I going to pay for that?”

While she was helping, it only went so far, and the moment he fucked up, it would end. “Talk to your parole officer. I’m sure he can make some recommendations.”

“Yeah, great.”You’re a fucking GP, you should be able to help me.He shouldn’t be getting his best tips off the internet. He sighed and drank the rest of the cold water, feeling a little calmer and less like the world was ending.

“I’m having friends over tomorrow morning.”

“I’m going out tonight?—”

“With that pianist?”

Anthony paused before responding but couldn’t find a lie. “Yes. He has tickets to a show.”

She frowned. “Hayden says he is always looking for leverage. Be careful.”

“And what do you think I have that he wants?”

“Your family.”

Anthony stared at her. “He played at Hayden’s party; he already has a connection to our family.”

But Cillian had made a beeline for him.

All the doubts he’d fought rose to the surface, ready to have a go at him again. Could he not have one nice thing?

He closed his eyes, remembering the heat in Cillian’s brown eyes, the hunger of his touches and the noises he made when he came. He hadn’t been faking… or had he?

“It’s just lust, Margot.” At twenty, he wouldn’t have even questioned why someone was interested; he’d have jumped in sometimes, not even bothering to learn their name. Now he questioned everything. “I wanted his dick?—”

“There’s no need to be crass about it.”

“I’m being honest. He wanted the gossip. We got to talking and decided to take it further. I’m sure he’ll grow bored, so let me enjoy it while it lasts. It’s been a bloody long time since I enjoyed anything.”

“That’s because you were being punished.”

“No shit. I fucked up.” He shook his head. “I’m going to apply for more jobs.”

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

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