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“Your parents, Summer. They’re alive.”
Stopping dead on the sidewalk, I blink a couple of times. “What?”
“Your parents are alive. I know you saw your father the other day in the warehouse.” His muttered voice is hard to hear, and he’s glancing around nervously.
“I don’t understand.” My brain has turned to mush.
Ronny grabs my arm tightly and drags me forward. “We gotta keep moving. The cops are coming.”
The words echo in my head. “How-how do you know?”
“I just do. Look, you didn’t hear this from me.”
“What?” Shaking my head, I’m confused, and I don’t know where to start with the gazillion questions battering my skull suddenly. “They died in a car crash. No, explosion...”
“That was staged,” he says calmly, as if revealing some insignificant detail. “Your parents have been living under new identities since the fire. They had to disappear.”
“Disappear?” My hands clench into fists, nails digging into my palms. “You expect me to believe that? Why the hell would they fake their own deaths and leave me behind?” Anger is now getting the better of me. This is...this is...there is no word for this.
“They didn’t have a choice,” Ronny replies, meeting my gaze without flinching. “I can’t tell you any more than that, but I know you saw Derek, so I’m telling you and I’m also telling you not to go digging.”
“Not to go digging!” I exclaim loudly.
He shushes me sternly as he leads me into the apartment building. “Quiet,” he snaps. “This is serious, Summer. You need to forget it and move on and do not mention this to the Gannons.”
“Why?”Too late.
“Trust me.”
“I don’tknowyou! Tell me where they are,” I command, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “Now.”
“I can’t do that,” Ronny says, his eyes flickering with something akin to pity as he stabs the button for the elevator.
Whatever conversation we were having is cut short as Ciarán and Cathal catch up to us, drenched in blood.
“Fuck!” I shriek as the elevator doors close. “Are you guys hurt?”
“I’m dying,” Cathal murmurs, leaning heavily against the side of the elevator, slumped over as if he is holding his body upright by sheer force of will.
“Shit,” I mutter, going to him, shoving Ronny’s shocking statement under the mental mat for now. “We need to get you to a hospital.”
“He’s being a pussy,” Ciarán snaps. “He’s not dying. He’s fine.”
“Easy for you to say. Your ribs aren’t snapped in a hundred different places.”
“How do you know?”
“Jaysus,” he whispers. “Shut the feck up.”
Pressing my lips together at his suddenly much deeper Irish accent, I feel myself go wet. It always did things to me before I met Ciarán. Now it’s so fucking hot, I wish Ronny wasn’t here so I could engage in some elevator sex.
When the doors ding open, three of us get off, but Ronny stays on board to head back down. Our gaze locks and his jaw clenches, imploring me not to say anything. I don’t know why, but I feel in my gut that I have to keep my mouth shut for now. “Thanks for everything,” I say to him, with a nod.
“Welcome,” he snarls and stabs the button impatiently as the doors slide closed.
I jump when Ciarán slaps his hand to the elevator door to stop it from closing.
“Who was that guy in the warehouse? Not one of mine. Did you see him?”
