I don’t answer. Can’t even reach for it. Ronan pulls over with a curse and twists around to dig it out of my pocket. I focus on breathing. In and out. In and out. I’m not sure how much time passes before Ronan twists around to look at me. “You need painkillers?” he asks.
I nod.
We pull over again. Humiliatingly, I cry as Ronan gets me upright to swallow pills, and I hiccup as he sets me back down again. He mutters, “such a fucking baby,” under his breath, and slams the door shut. The painkillers don’t do anything. Sweat dampens the back of my shirt, and every inch of skin may as well be against an open flame before an icy chill washes over me.
At least a year passes before the pain recedes. My cheek is against the leather seat of the Jeep and it stings when I peel away. We’re still driving, but it’s bumpy, rather than the smooth road. I think I see the shadows of trees through the window, but it’s so dark I’m not sure if I imagined it or not. I swallow. And very, very slowly, I stretch out my limb. The whimper of pain is unstoppable.
“Would you shut up?” Ronan barks out. “I didn’t hit you hard. Not half as hard as I hit that big oaf.”
“I’ll get you some money,” I croak. “So let’s go back. Or drop me off here. Anywhere. A hospital?” I trail off, my eyelids heavy with each blink. A wave of drowsiness envelops me and I shut my eyes, finding the allure of sleep too overwhelming to resist.
“It’s not about money,” Ronan says.
His voice is muffled, as though he’s speaking from far away. “It’s not?” I mumble.
“I just want to talk. And you had to be such a shit about it, and get me into all sorts of trouble!” his voice rises in anger. “But whatever, always been your M.O, hasn’t it? You manipulative little—argh, whatever. Fuck you, Kyle. I don’t give a shit about you. This isn’t about you.”
I have to think really hard past the dizziness. “Chris?” I guess, after a painfully long time.
Ronan doesn’t say anything.
“You want Chris’s money—”
“I don’t want his money,” Ronan growls. “I haven’t seen him in years.Years. He’s refused to talk to me ever since you manipulated him into cutting me out. He’s never let me explain my side of the story.”
I understand. “You’re going to tell Chris where we are?”
“He’ll just call the police if I do that.”
“You’ll call him from my phone to talk to him?”
“Am I stupid? Is that what you think? I tossed your phone, you fucking dumbass.”
Right. Of course. I’m a dumbass. I blink, starting to feel more awake. Less like I’m about to pass out any second.
“What’s the plan? You’ll have to tell me since I’m too stupid to guess.”
Ronan rubs a hand through his hair in a jerky, rushed gesture.
“Chris has a knack for being AWOL just when I try to meet him,” Ronan mutters.
“Was the plan to meet him at the party?”
Ronan’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening.
“I wouldn’t have gone nearyou,” Ronan curses. “You came to find me, and then you start calling security. You gave me no choice. If I end up in jail, Chris won’t visit. I know he won’t.”
The Jeep jolts, knocking my head against the door. “Ow. Where even arewe?” I ask.
“Five minutes and I can explain my side of what happened.”
I don’t want to point out that Chris is never going to give Ronan the time of day for that. Or point out that even he explains his side of what happened years ago, he’s going to have a hell of a time talking about tonight…
Biting down a groan of pain, I sit up.
Outside the windows are trees, and we’re driving up a steep hill. I glance behind us but see only a winding road that disappears behind overgrowth. We’re reallyoff the beaten track, and given that the road is mud, I don’t fancy my chances that there’s going to be a house anywhere nearby or someone I can go to for help.
A square of white at my feet stands out against the black leather seats. A white card with gold writing. My missing invitation. There’s a phone lying on top of it.
