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“You don’t know him like I do,” Connor pushes. “He’s not the kind of man to deny himself anything. Isn’t that right, Arnold?”
Despite the exhaustion lying deep within my bones, I move like a python. Connor is pressed up against the wall in a blink of an eye, entirely caught off guard. When he struggles, I press my arm harder into his throat.
“You’re getting on my last nerve, Connor,” I hiss in his ear.
His hands fumble around to try and alleviate the pressure on his neck. “You’re going to turn on me now, too?”
I punch him in the gut. Letting him fall to the ground.
“No. I’m just not the kind of man to deny myself anything,” I parrot back. “You had that coming.”
When I turn back to look at Roisin, her face is devoid of all emotion. She merely holds her hand out to me.
I take it, grateful for something to anchor myself amidst the turmoil of emotions raging through me.
Silently, we walk into the room, locking the door behind us. I don’t bother getting changed before collapsing into the bed face first. A second later, I feel Roisin do the same.
I turn my head to find her staring at me. Her emerald eyes are a mirror of my own exhaustion and grief.
“Did you mean it?” I find myself asking.
“About going after Padraic?” she whispers back.
I nod, reaching to brush a stray hair behind her ear.
Her eyes close at my touch. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Chapter Eighteen
Roisin
I wake up to find Arnie has wrapped me up in his arms.
Despite everything, what he said in the garage… I can’t bring myself to move. There’s something about this that makes me feel sosafe.
And after everything that happened, Ineedsafe.
His steady breathing keeps me grounded as I replay the events of yesterday in my mind. The treehouse, dancing with Angus, finding out about my engagement, seeing my brother again after five years... Not to mention bumping into Eda and being attacked in the forest. Every shocking twist and turn hit me one after the next.
But nothing hit as hard as seeing Angus lying there, motionless. Being unable to reach him through the flames. The thought makes me sick to my stomach.
This is my fault.
Padraic Duffy wasn’t after Angus or even Arnie. He was afterme.And if I hadn’t been so desperate and needy, Arnie and I would have gotten back to the estate in time.
But instead, we hooked up in his Lamborghini.
The crushing weight of my guilt makes me tremble, suddenly unable to get enough air into my lungs. I deserve to choke for what I’ve done. It should have been me who was burned in those flames. Whatever feud is going on between my family and the Duffys, Angus was not a part of it. Nor is Arnie.
I’m selfish. Weak. If people don’t leave me, I dawdle and hesitate until they’retakenfrom me.
I don’t deserve even this small moment of peace, but Arnie’s arms only tighten around me as if sensing my distress. Whateverthisis, between the two of us. It’s the reason Angus and countless others are dead.
I’d even shot someone.
I’m so disgusted by myself that I push Arnie’s arms away and wriggle to the end of the bed.
There’s not a lot of space in the shipping container; the double bed just about squeezes into one end. But the decor is robust and minimalistic, giving it a clean, modern look. The two doors on the other side of the room lead outside and to what must be a bathroom, and there’s even a stove top and mini fridge in the corner. It’s compact but efficient.
