Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(46)

Disbelief gleamed in his eyes.

Rowan tightened her grip around his waist. “That is not who you are. You’re not a killer.”

A snort. “You know what I’m capable of, baby.”

“When it’s necessary,” she insisted. “You aren’t a murderer for hire. You’re a protector.”

“There are many people who would disagree with your assessment of my character.”

“Then they are fools, Brent. You’re not an assassin.”

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“If we call Detective Taylor and tell him what’s going on, what will he do?”

“Call the feds.” Brent held up a hand to stem her protest. “He has to call them. The feds have jurisdiction over Alexa’s kidnapping and they are experts in these kinds of cases.”

Rowan thought about that for a moment, striving to calm the panic clamoring in her chest. “Are they better than Fortress?”

“No, but we want them on our side.”

“Are you sure this is the wisest course of action, Brent?”

“It’s the only choice we have unless we plan to operate totally outside the law.”

“Can you do that?”

“Yes. It’s not the smartest thing to do, however. We don’t have time to waste fighting with our own law enforcement agencies. Sometimes they actually help.”

“But not often, right?”

He lifted one shoulder.

Rowan squared her shoulders and nodded. “Make the call.” She just hoped she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life, one which might cause her to never see Alexa again.





CHAPTER NINETEEN


As Brent drove away from the funeral home, Rowan sat in silence beside him, staring out the window. With the gloom deepening by the minute, he figured she wasn’t seeing anything except the past, memories of her sister pressing close.

The afternoon had been hard, but Rowan held up well considering her gut-wrenching loss. The service had been scheduled in two days’ time. Hopefully, Rowan would have Alexa back by then. If not, the kidnappers shouldn’t call until after the funeral. The service would begin before noon.

He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. “We meet with the feds in two hours. You need to eat before we do.”

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

Brent understood, though he longed to argue with her. No point in adding more stress to an already difficult situation. Knowing she needed nourishment, he called Zane’s cell. “You at home or still at Fortress?”

“Home. What do you need?”

“One of those protein shakes you make for Claire. Rowan needs something appetizing but easy to consume.”

“No problem. Swing by. I’ll have it ready for you.”

When Brent ended the call, Rowan turned her head toward him. “A shake?” She sounded skeptical.

“You’ll like it. Sometimes Zane’s wife is so busy on a photo shoot she doesn’t have time to eat a meal. Zane fixes protein shakes for her to keep her going.”

A faint smile curved her mouth. “This better be good. I’m not a fan of protein shakes. I always feel like I’m swallowing a drink full of sand.”

He chuckled, relieved to bring some emotion besides sorrow to Rowan. “No sand, I promise. The shake is chocolate. Claire swears it’s better than any milkshake.”

Brent parked in Zane’s driveway minutes later and glanced at the woman by his side. His heart softened. Rowan had fallen asleep with her head propped against the window. Man, he hated to wake her and wouldn’t if they weren’t meeting the feds.

He’d lain awake much of the night listening to her toss and turn, wishing he could soothe her pain or ease her worry for Alexa. But the truth was he was worried about the child as well. What if he couldn’t find her in time? No, he wouldn’t let himself consider that alternative. Fortress was the best. He and his operatives would find the girl and bring her home.

The least he could do at the moment was make sure Rowan had enough physical strength to deal with questions from the federal agents. Brent hoped the FBI had knowledge to share.

He almost snorted aloud. Right. Like the feds would volunteer anything. At least one of them wouldn’t share. The other, though, might be amenable to sharing intel.

By the time Brent rounded the hood to the passenger side door, Rowan was stirring, her eyes heavy lidded. “Do you want to stay here, babe?” he asked. “I’ll bring the shake to you.”

She shook her head. “I want to meet Claire. I have to be fully awake to handle the feds anyway.”

He leaned down and took his time kissing her. The taste and texture of Rowan sent his heart rate into overdrive. He made himself ease back from her, though he’d love to spend more time indulging his growing addiction.

Brent walked with Rowan to Z’s front door. Before he rang the bell, Zane opened the door.

“Come inside. Welcome to my home, Rowan.” The SEAL backed his wheelchair away from the door to let them pass.

“Thank you for making the shake for me, Zane.”

“Sure thing, sugar.” He zoomed past her to lead the way to the kitchen.

His wife, a petite brunette with a sunny smile, turned away from the sink as they entered the room. Claire hugged Brent. “Good to see you, Brent.” She released him and held out her hand to Rowan. “Claire Murphy.”