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“Wait here,” Kate says as she unbuckles her seat belt and makes to leave.
But something flickering catches my eye.
I look down at my chest. “Shit.”
“What?” Kate glances back at me. I can see the moment she registers the red laser hovering over my heart. “Shit.”
She double-times her exit from the car and starts waving her hands in the air, yelling at whoever is watching us to stand down. It’s the most frantic I’ve ever seen her and amusing enough for me to decide against informing her of the car’s bulletproof windshield.
Whatever she does out there to convince them I’m not a threat seems to work. The laser disappears, and after a moment, I hear an almighty creak as the doors begin to roll open.
There are not many instances where I’ve ever felt self-conscious about my car. This Lamborghini is said to have turned more heads on the streets of New York than Marilyn Monroe herself.
Yet the sheer collection of cars that are showcased in the room behind the garage door is enough to make me sweat. The entire space looks like a showroom dedicated to some of the greatest cars ever made. I’m not sure if it makes me like or hate Jack even more.
Tentatively, I drive forward. I don’t bother to pick Kate back up as she casually walks through and begins an animated discussion with someone on the other side. When I’m safely tucked into the bunker, I kill the engine and take a second to breathe.
Everything inside of me is telling me to leave right now, to spend whatever energy I have left searching for Roisin. But Kate was right about one thing: I have to get out of my own emotions if I’m going to be of any use to anybody.
Not that I think Jack Duffy will be all that pleased to see me, given the situation. I mentally prepare for that particular conversation as I step out of the car, wondering if it was a stupid idea to come here instead of Connor’s. At least I can predict his reaction, even if it’s guaranteed to be murderous.
By the time I reach Kate, a small crowd of people have gathered to see for themselves who Kate has allowed into their sanctuary. And it is exactly that; the showroom-like decor makes the space feel almost angelic, with clean, white lines and soft, flattering lighting.
“Arnie, may I introduce you to Ray,” Kate says as I approach her and her companion.
The leaner man offers me a tight smile and a hand to shake. I take it without question, suddenly very aware of how deep I am in the lion’s den.
“I’ve just finished running those plates you sent over,” Ray is saying as he releases my hand. “They were difficult to pin down, but I’m fairly confident that—”
He’s cut off by the sound of a door slamming open and the hurried footsteps of someone clearly on a mission. The crowd around us parts like the Red Sea to let them through, and I brace myself for Jack’s wrath.
Except, the person who emerges isn’t the Duffy heir.
“Arnie? Please tell me my sister is okay.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Arnie
Kate springs into action before I can even open my mouth. She ushers the two of us, along with her techie, through a door to the side.
We enter a small lounge area adorned in retro-style lighting and comfortable-looking couches that I waste no time sinking into. I’m only half surprised when Aimee takes a seat next to me.
“Please, Arnie.” She sounds like she might burst into tears at any second. “Tell me what happened.”
Her emerald eyes are nothing like her sister’s, but when I look into them, I feel that same sense of immense passion and vulnerability.
With a sigh, I concede.
At some point, as I talk her through the events of the evening, she grips my hand hard. By the end, silent tears are falling down her face.
“S-she killed someone?” Aimee whispers.
“It couldn’t be helped.”
We both look up to see Jack standing by the doorway. How much he heard, I can’t say, but clearly enough to understand the situation. I can already see the scheming happening behind his hardened stare.
He comes to rest a comforting hand on Aimee’s shoulder. “You’ve done everything you can for her,chroí.You should be proud of everything you taught her.”
