“You said you didn’t believe him. Who’s he?”
“Your father.”
Arlo blinked. “What?”
“He contacted me not long after I’d first met you, told me you were a…something bird.” He waved his hand again; he never used to wave his hands when he talked. “I didn’t believe him, of course, but he told me not to spend too much time with you, not mix our scents or something, but to keep tabs on you. I thought he was nuts, but he gave me some money, so I did what he said.”
Cold filled Arlo’s chest. He was a fool for believing Deon had cared about him.
“And then you went and did what you did to Allison and…” He shrugged.
“And he gave you a car?”
“It’s for bringing you, so hop in.” He motioned with the gun for Arlo to get in the car.
“Deon—”
“No, get in!”
Arlo opened the door, his hands trembling. He couldn’t let Deon take him away from here. Glancing over his shoulder, he wondered if he could run away. Someone ought to come soon, though there weren’t many cars on this floor.