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I check my phone every thirty seconds. It’s not that I don’t trust Roisin to handle herself with Eda Romero. It’s that I don’t trust Eda not to try anything.
But Roisin wanted to find out more about her past, and after staking out the bar for a good hour once she’d walked in, I finally pick up my phone. Fourteen missed calls from my business partner flash up on the screen as the Bluetooth kicks in.
“Where the hell are you?” Connor’s angry voice fills the car.
“Out,” I respond petulantly.
“Do you have any idea how frustrating it is for me when you do this, Arnold? Roisin is supposed to be staying here with me. But that’s two nights you’ve disobeyed direct orders.”
“Last time I checked, Connor,” I push back defiantly. “Roisin doesn’t work for you.”
“You work for me. We work for each other.”
My patience begins to wear thin. “What do you want me to do? Drag her back to you kicking and screaming?”
“If that’s what it takes.” The adolescent sulkiness in his voice momentarily baffles me.
I pause as I begin to think through my next words, hoping to make him see reason. “Connor, she’s a grown woman. The more you try and suffocate her, the more she’s going to resent you for it.”
“I don’t care if she hates me. I care that she’s safe.”
I glance at the building in front of me. “She is safe.”
“Do you have eyes on her right now?”
“Yes,” I confirm automatically, not wanting a lecture from Connor. “She’s giving you the middle finger,” I add for authenticity.
It has its desired effect: Connor swiftly changes the topic. “I have another assignment for you.”
“I’m a bit busy.”
“It’s non-negotiable.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, Connor. Weren’t you the one bitching about a sabbatical?”I thought I was taking a break.”
“You’re the one who said you were bored.”
“Yeah, well,” I try to peer through the bar window for what feels like the millionth time. “Things change.”
“This isn’t for me,” Connor clarifies.
I raise an eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”
“You mean, what do you get out of it?” Connor doesn’t beat around the bush.
“I’m just wondering why they didn’t come to me directly.” I can’t deny that my curiosity has been piqued.
“They felt I’d be easier to communicate with.”
That tracks, however unfortunately. “What is it then?”
“Protection.” Connor’s answer is straightforward.
“I don’t need—”
“For Roisin,” he emphasizes.
I fall silent, his words sinking in. The notion of protecting Roisin, even from potential threats, tugs at my conscience.
