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“Ah, the infamous Reaper,” I hear Eda reply. “I was wondering when Connor might introduce us.”
“You’re in our way,” Arnie’s voice is lower, quieter than I’ve ever heard it before.
“Of course, my apologies.” Eda moves to one side, still watching me curiously. “I thought I saw an old friend. My mistake.”
Arnie’s hand is suddenly gripping my forearm and he tugs me away. I can feel Eda watching us, but all I can focus on is the car up ahead. I just need to get to the car.
“Almost there,” Arnie whispers soothingly as he maneuvers me in front of him. He throws a protective arm over my shoulder as he grabs his keys.
Five more steps. Four, three…
The doors swing open for me at the touch of a button, and I slide into the passenger inelegantly, slamming the door behind me.
A second later, Arnie is climbing in next to me, and the engine is starting.
All I can do is focus on my breathing. In and out. In and out.
Arnie’s warmth suddenly reaches over me gently. I’m vaguely aware of him attaching my seatbelt. Once it snaps into place, he’s back at the wheel.
We reverse out of the warehouse.
And everything goes dark.
Chapter Fifteen
Arnie
I get a strange sense of deja vu as I drive through the city with Roisin passed out in the passenger seat. Although this time, I suppose, it’s not strictly speaking my fault.
I look over to where she’s lying, seemingly peacefully. Her body, weak with exhaustion, probably couldn’t withstand the panic attack. At least, I hope that’s what happened.
It never occurred to me that more people might surface from Roisin’s past. Whether she knew it or not, her whole family was involved with organized crime. Of course there would be people out there that would remember her besides Connor.
Even though I don’t know what happened back there, whoever that cartel woman was, Roisin was not prepared for that confrontation. This kind of intense reaction makes me wonder if there might have been more to Roisin’s sudden disappearance five years ago.
Finally, Roisin begins to stir beside me and I focus more intently on the road.
“W-what happened?” Her voice is about as weak as she looks.
“You had a panic attack,” I explain gently. “Then you passed out in the car. I thought about taking you to the hospital.”
“Please don’t,” she mumbles. “I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”
In my peripheral, I can see her sitting up a little straighter to look out the window into the darkness. “Where are we going? Home?”
My heart jumps a little when I realize she means the estate. “Actually, I thought you might want some fresh air first.”
When she doesn’t immediately protest, I take it as her giving consent and pull the car off the main road. A few minutes later, we hit the edge of the New Jersey Alpine and I cut the engine.
By day, the forest is a study in contrasts. At ground level, the underbrush is a lush carpet of moss and ferns, vibrant greens, and earthy browns. Massive oak and maple trees tower above, their gnarled branches forming a leafy canopy that filters the sunlight into pinprick patterns on the forest floor.
But by night, the dark and imposing trees tend to ward off even the locals.
“As much as getting murdered in a dark forest might be a fitting end to my day,” Roisin comments as she exits the car. “I’d rather not.”
I nudge her a little, earning me a shove in return. At least her strength is coming back. “I promise I’ll protect you from the crazy ax murderers.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Fine.”
