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I wrap my arms around myself. A poor substitute for my brother’s embrace, but one that offers me enough comfort to keep the tears at bay. “Explain, then.”
Connor glances around at our audience. “Let’s go to my office.”
“No.”
“Roshe–-”
“I want you to tell me now,” I gesture out to the crowd of people gathering around us. “I want you to tell me in front of all these people - people I didn’t know even existed until a few minutes ago.”
Connor has the audacity to look affronted. “It’s not my fault your sister didn’t tell you.”
“Don’t bring Aimee into this. Right now, I’m furious atyou.”
“You have every right to be,” he says, clearly trying to take a more measured approach. “Just please, let’s take this somewhere else.”
“What’s the point? Surely everyone here knew before I did.”
“Roisin,” A hand lies gently on my shoulder. I don’t need to turn to know that it’s Arnie. “Connor’s right. We should take this somewhere more private.”
I yank his hand off my arm. “You’re not off the hook yet either, asshole.”
Connor pales. “You told her?”
I laugh. Hard. “Of course, you’re more concerned about that than actuallymarrying me off to an assassin without my consent .”
There’s a low gasp from the crowds. Perhaps it wasn’t as public knowledge as I thought.
Connor glances around before stepping toward me. “I will explain everything, just please-”
“I haven’t even got to the part where youordered a hit on my mentor.”
He looks over my shoulder. “Jesus, Arnie. What were you playing at telling her all this?”
“Oi!I’m the person you’re dealing with right now.Or do you want to talk about the fact that five years ago, you let me over–”
Oof.
The air is knocked out of me as Connor tosses me over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” I scream as I claw at his obscenely large back.
Connor ignores me as he turns to address his minions. “Back to work, people, thank you.”
“CONNOR!” I kick out at his chest, but his arm catches my knees, pinning them down.
Connor’s already moving, heading directly to the office. I scream the entire way, unable to move or even try to escape. Before I know it, he’s opening the door and dumping me unceremoniously onto a couch in the corner.
“You always had a set of lungs on you,” Connor mutters as he sinks into his own armchair opposite. “Jesus, Roche, I think you blew an eardrum.”
“Fuck you!” I spit.
He looks over my shoulder. “Where—how did you find her?”
I didn’t hear him come in, but suddenly Arnie is sliding into the spot next to me.
“Julliard,” he states matter-of-factly.
Connor gives him a curious look. “I thought you didn’t revisit crime scenes.”
