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“I’ve already lost one son. If I lose Jackie, I’ll kill ye with me own two hands.”
I twisted my arm, grabbing onto his wrist. The new angle gave me leverage, allowing me to spin Frank, pinning him against his own trailer. With his arm bent crookedly behind his back, I could dislocate his shoulder without breaking a sweat.
Someone started clapping to my left.
“Nicely done, Wings!” Mick congratulated, the sound of his footsteps pounding down the stairs. They must’ve already loaded Jack into the SUV. Maybe there was a back door to the trailer I hadn’t seen. “You’re an excellent student.”
Frank spit, his brow furrowed in pain as I leaned my weight into him. “Ye taught her this, ye bastard?”
Mick grinned, proud of me. “Damn right I did.”
I released Frank, letting him fall into the dusty flowerbed. He let out a grunt, his breathing labored. He scrabbled in the dirt, trying to stomp out the glowing cherry from his cigarette. It burned a hole in his soiled jeans.
“I suppose that’s close enough to your ass,” I deadpanned, leaving Frank behind to join Mick in the driveway. “All set?”
Mick handed me the keys. “You drive.”
I raised my brows. Mick was a much faster driver than me and he knew the way home. My internal clock was ticking. I had thirteen hours to get back to Manhattan and prepare myself for the meeting with Don Luca.
Mick ignored my hesitation, holding open the door to the SUV. I climbed behind the steering wheel, taking a moment to adjust the seat and mirrors to my height. The rearview mirror settled on Jack. Mick and Tom had buckled him in, but he was still in a deep, drunken sleep. His head lolled against the headrest, and I wanted to reach out for him. Why the hell did I have to drive?
Mick hopped into the backseat beside Jack. “Hand me the black case inside the glove compartment.”
I opened the console, grabbed the leather case then handed it to Mick.
“It’s a sedative,” Mick explained, unzipping the container to reveal an ominous syringe and a small vial with medical jargon on its side. “Just in case he wakes up. Trust me, we don’t want to deal with him in a confined space.”
“Is it okay to give it to him when he’s had so much to drink?”
“He’s sleeping like a rock, so I shouldn’t have to use it. But if I do, he’ll be fine. It’ll knock him out for a few more hours. Enough time for us to get him back into his apartment. And then you’ll call me when he wakes up.”
I nodded, knowing very well that wasn’t part of my plan. Sure, I’d get Jack back to his apartment. But Mick couldn’t know what happened after.
As I closed the glove compartment, my gaze snagged on a manila folder resting in the passenger footwell. It must’ve fallen when I had retrieved Mick’s case. Bending my body at an awkward angle, I grabbed a black-and-white photograph peeking out of the envelope.
“It’s the only lead we have on the Babau,” Mick said, noticing my attention had drifted. “Cathal took it a couple nights ago.”
There were three people in the picture, dressed head to toe in black, their faces covered. The slim man in the middle faced away from the lens, pointing at something in the distance. I narrowed my eyes, studying his back. There was a strange object resting between his shoulder blades, catching a beam of light at just the right angle.
It was impossible to discern unless I knew what I was looking at, but I’d seen that insect-like shape before. Chills skated down my spine.
“Can we get on the road, Em?” Mick asked, eyeing Jack.
I dropped the photograph, throwing the vehicle into drive. The picture was useless to them, but not to me. I knew exactly who the Babau was.
Chapter Thirty
Emma
Mick placed the unused sedative on Jack’s bedside table, showing me where to inject it if necessary. I shuddered at the thought, but listened carefully.
“Call me when he wakes,” Mick ordered. “We don’t want him running off again. I’ll be at Roisin’s getting briefed with Kieran. So not far, okay?”
I swiped a loose tendril of hair behind my ear, nodding. Once the elevator doors had closed behind Mick, I set to work. I filled a few gallon jugs with water, one with orange juice and another with ginger-ale. I grabbed a bag of rolls from the pantry, an entire box of protein bars and sliced fruit. Feeling contrite, I threw some beef jerky in the bag and carried everything into Jack’s closet. It took a few trips.
As I moved around the apartment, I kept an eye on Jack, hoping I wouldn’t need to give him the sedative. I didn’t like needles. While I was piling supplies into the panic room, Eoghan called to let me know he’d set up the camera.
“What the hell is your little sister up to? The address you gave me was to a slaughterhouse. Is she working undercover for PETA?”
