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It seemed all connected, though it couldn’t be.
His mind was a mishmash.
It had never been that before. Never.
Edgar Roy opened his eyes once and then quickly closed them as a pain tugged at his brain. He opened them once more. Something pulled at him. He slid upward, as though being yanked from deep water. Everything around him felt slick, wet.
“Eddie?”
His eyes closed once more.
“Eddie?”
He forced his eyes open. He felt slow, stupid, drunk. Feelings he had never before had in his life.
“Eddie? Can you sit up by yourself?”
With an effort he righted himself and looked at her.
Kelly Paul sat next to him in the rear seat of a van that had tinted windows. There were other people with him and his sister. The van was not moving.
The tall man was in the front passenger seat. The skeptical dark-haired woman was in the driver’s seat.
Peter Bunting sat on the other side of Paul.
Bunting said, “Edgar, are you all right? You were bleeding when they got to you.”
Roy touched the side of his head and felt the bandage there.
He mumbled, “Shot. Missed. Glass.”
His sister said, “It’s okay, Eddie. Close call, but it’s okay.”
“K-el?” he said, the name coming out thick and disjointed.
“Just take it easy, Eddie. You breathed in some nasty stuff. No lasting effects, but it takes a while to run its course. Once it’s out of your system you’ll feel much better.”
“You did that?”
“I’m afraid it was unavoidable.”
He felt something at his ankle. Well, more accurately, he didn’t feel something at his shin. He looked down. His restraint anklet was gone.
Paul said, “I didn’t think you’d want that on any longer.”
Roy looked at the dark-haired woman.
Michelle stared back at him in the rearview mirror. She wore a shoulder holster and an anxious expression. Sean was next to her, looking equally concerned.
Sean said to Paul, “Let’s just hope that really wasn’t the FBI who came to get your brother.”
Roy rubbed his face and willed his mind to clear itself of all the smoke, the rubbish, and the inefficiencies.
“It wasn’t the FBI,” he said.
“How do you know that?” asked Sean.
“Because one of the men said to me, ‘Move your feet, asshole, or I’ll put a round right in your skull.’ ”
