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I slow down and open the passenger window. “Swan?”
I get to the spot the person disappeared and stop. It has to be Penelope. Roman’s a few inches taller than Penelope, and he’s wider, but in the dark and from that far away, I can confidently say it wasn’t him.
“Swan!” If it was Penelope, and she’s by herself, maybe she’ll hear me. I scan around me. I have to keep a lookout for Roman.
“Cannon?”
I jump out of the vehicle. “Penelope!”
The form darts out of the trees and flies toward me. In the headlights, fresh tears shine on her cheeks, creating streaks through all the dirt and grit plastered to her skin. Her clothes are dirty, but I don’t see any blood.
I wrap my arms around her. She’s alive. She’s fucking alive. “Are you okay?”
Her words are muffled in my shoulder. “I think he’s dead.”
I can’t quit hugging her. “Roman’s dead?”
“I don’t know. I think so.” She points behind her in the trees. “He fell. He fell off the cliff.”
“You saw him?”
She nods, and tears glisten in her eyes. “I think he was trying to throw me off. And he lost his balance.” Her face crumples.
I pull her closer. I’ve never been so fucking scared for someone in my life. I was afraid I couldn’t save her. But she’s here with me.
She gasps and lifts her head. “What about the other two?”
“They’re both tied up. I called for help.” I don’t want to add more stress to the night, but she needs to know. “I don’t know if Tony is going to survive.”
She draws in a shuddering breath. And another. A sob rips out of her, and her knees go weak. Killing someone, no matter the reason, is a heavy burden. If that bastard Tony wants any redemption, he’d better fucking survive.
I bundle her into the passenger seat and buckle her in. Tears continue to flow, and her hands are trembling. I’m afraid she’s going into shock.
“Look at me.” I don’t touch her. I want her to move on her own. She needs to get whatever she saw out of her head. “Penelope, look at me.”
The neon light of the dash washes out her skin and makes her paler than she is. She meets my gaze.
“It’s over.” I don’t know for sure, but I fill my voice with confidence. We did nothing wrong. She’s guilty only of protecting herself. But I’ll feel better when I hear someone in uniform tell me Roman’s dead and Mick and Tony are in custody.
“It’s over,” she echoes quietly.
“I need you to stay with me, okay?” I can’t promise it’ll get easier from here. There’ll be an investigation. She’ll be asked questions that make her feel like a horrible person. The public will scrutinize what happened when only four people know what really went on.
“I’m with you.”
Her eyes are wide. The panic isn’t going away. “Don’t leave me, okay?”
I want to tell her I’ll never leave her. The words don’t come out. My mind shifts to practical mode. It’ll be easier if she knows what comes next.
“When the police arrive and deal with Mick and Tony and confirm that Roman’s dead, they’re going to want to talk to us.”
Her attention is riveted on me. I’m still worried she’ll go into shock, so I keep talking, keep rooting her to the present. “They’re going to be professional, okay? This isn’t TV. They might separate us.”
Tears well in her eyes again. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Sirens wail in the background. They’ll arrive in only minutes. I give up my pep talk and crowd into the open door. She presses her face against my chest and clings to my shirt. We stand like that until we’re lit up by flashing red-and-blue lights. I use them as an excuse not to tell her she won’t be alone. Because as the events of the evening stream through my mind, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to be with her.
