"Stay here." Enzo's voice is flat and brooking no argument.
"Enzo—"
"I mean it. Stay outside where I can see you."
He walks into the office and disappears behind a door marked "Manager," leaving me standing in the parking lot feeling exposed and useless.
I wait, counting the seconds in my head, watching the parking lot and the trees beyond and the road for any sign of movement.
Nothing.
Five minutes pass, then ten, and I'm starting to wonder if I should go in after him when the door finally opens.
Enzo walks out with his face carefully blank but his hand curled into a fist so tight his knuckles have gone white.
"What did you find out?"
"Someone checked into room seven last night around two in the morning, checked out an hour ago, paid cash."
"Did he say who?"
"Young guy, maybe early thirties, accent but he couldn't place it. That's all he had."
Young guy with an accent. Irish, probably. Which means O'Rourke or his men. They’re really here.
My hands start shaking and I shove them deep in my pockets where he can't see.
"We should go back."
"Yeah."
We walk faster this time, neither of us talking, and I can feel the panic building in my chest like water rising, creeping up my throat until I can barely breathe around it. They know where I am. They've been watching. They sent that photo to prove it, to let me know they can get to me whenever they want.
Soon you'll be back.
My breath comes faster and shorter, my vision starting to tunnel.
"Isabella."
Enzo's voice cuts through the panic sharp and commanding.
I look at him.
"Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth, slow and steady. Do it."
I do, once, twice, three times, forcing air into my lungs and pushing it back out until my vision clears and the buzzing in my ears fades.
"Better?"
I nod because I don't trust my voice.
"We're almost there. Just keep walking, keep breathing, stay with me. I willneverlet anything happen to you."
Soon, the cabin comes into view around the final bend and I can see the bike parked exactly where we left it this morning.
Then I see him.
A man crouched by the bike with his hands moving over something I can't see from this distance, something under the seat.
