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Jack purses his lips. “TheBlack Coatsonce attacked Aimee and me in a helicopter.”
“Do you think Padraic hired them?”
“Maybe?” Jack says with a shake of his head. “But it’s not his style to hire externally, and killing us didn’t serve him much at the time. Why?”
I look toward Kate. “Could you bring that CCTV footage back up?”
Kate nods and begins furiously tapping into her computer. “What about it?”
“The driver wasn’t in cartel uniform.”
Finally, Kate freezes, her eyes going wide as she examines the screen.
Wordlessly, she turns her laptop around.
Together, we watch as Roisin gets into the car of a man dressed head to toe in black.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Roisin
Rays of muted sunlight trickle through a narrow slit in the concrete wall, casting pale, jagged stripes of light across the floor.
I study them intently, trying to distract myself from the bleak reality of my captivity.
Everything still feels disorienting.
One moment, I was getting in a limo; the next, I was waking up here. Cold, alone, and with the lingering taste of fear tainting my every thought.
My cell is stark and unforgiving.
The cot is a thin, musty mattress, barely separating me from the frigid ground, and iron bars create an impenetrable barrier to the outside world.
The air is heavy with the smell of dampness, and the only sounds are the distant echoes of voices, laughter, and activity beyond my confinement.
But in here? Nothing happens. No food, no blanket to stave off the cold. My clubbing outfit barely covered me up to begin with, but with my sleeves still wrapped up in my hair, the chill hits more keenly.
In the stillness, the absence of Arnie’s warming presence is a palpable ache. The memory of his familiar scent and the sound of his voice still lingers in my mind, the only lifeline to my sanity.
I long for his troublesome smile, the reassuring grip of his hand, and the gentle way he teases me and laughs like I’m the only person who could ever make him happy.
I miss him more than words can express.
It’s enough to make me want to keep going as well as give up entirely.
But the image of his unconscious body on the club floor is seared into my mind.
I was a coward.
I should have gone back for him.
I should have called my brother.
I should have called Aimee.
Instead, I landed myself here.
I chose to trust the woman I thought had my back.
