Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(63)



“I’m fine, sweetheart. The cops will be inside in less than a minute. They don’t know who the bad guys are.”

“I don’t understand. We’ll tell them the whole story.”

“Until they figure out what’s going on for themselves, they’ll handcuff me and Remy as well as the rest of these clowns.” Yeah, and weren’t they going to raise some eyebrows when the cops realized he and Remy had killed at least two of the men attacking the house, and it looked as though Lily had killed a third.

As long as Rowan was safe, he’d deal with whatever fallout came his way. He squeezed Rowan a little tighter. His lawyer was earning his exorbitant retainer fees this month.

Before she could respond, the police swarmed the room, weapons drawn, ordering Brent and Remy down on the floor, hands away from their bodies.

Brent released Rowan and complied, his movements slow and relaxed. Remy did the same, though the operative stayed where he could defend Lily if her safety was compromised.

“You don’t understand,” Rowan protested to the nearest policeman. “Brent and Remy are the good guys. They were protecting me.”

“Baby, it’s all right,” he murmured.

“It’s not all right. You and Remy aren’t the ones trying to kill me.” She scowled at the law enforcement officers. “What are you going to do with my friends?”

“For now, place them in the back of the squad cars until a detective arrives to sort this out,” said the nearest one. He motioned to two of the other policemen. They searched Brent and Remy for weapons and confiscated two guns from each man as well as several knives. One of the policemen whistled at the pile of weapons they collected from Brent and Remy alone.

“Brent, what do you want me to do?” Rowan asked.

“Call Zane. I programmed his number in your phone. Tell him what’s happened and request a bodyguard until I’m released. Zane will know what to do.” One of the officers yanked Brent’s arms behind his back and cuffed him, then hauled him to his feet. “Don’t leave this house without protection, either one of these policemen or someone from Fortress. No one else.”

Man, he hated this. He hated being led away from Rowan’s side in cuffs as though he were a criminal. Even worse, the knowledge she was vulnerable until one of his operatives showed up for guard duty made his stomach twist into a knot. The Brentwood police were well trained, but they weren’t Fortress trained. Brent wanted only the best for Rowan.

The next few hours passed with agonizing slowness. Zane sent Adam Walker to watch over Rowan and dispatched Jake Davenport to the hospital to stay with Lily. Once the details were known and verified, Brent and Remy were released without their guns.

“Did they have to keep my favorite Sig?” Remy muttered as they walked out of the station.

Brent snorted. “Mine, too. We need to stop by Fortress before moving to another safe house.” He scanned the street, spotting the all-night coffee shop. He nudged Remy. “I need coffee before we head to the hospital.” Adam had texted Brent, telling him Rowan had insisted on going to the hospital to check on Lily.

“Don’t think you’ll need it,” Remy said. “Look.”

Jon Smith and Eli Wolfe walked their direction. Eli carried a cardboard tray with two to-go cups.

“We leave you to your own devices and look what happens, boss.” Eli grinned as he handed Brent one of the cups. “Black, as strong as the shop across the street makes it.”

“Appreciate it.” He sipped the steaming brew, praying the caffeine worked a miracle. He needed a few hours of sleep. Fat chance of that happening any time soon. The visitation for the Maxwells was in a few hours. “Why are you two here?”

“Zane sent us.” Jon’s lips twitched, his equivalent of a smile. “We’re your ride to the hospital and we’re taking over the watch from Remy so he can stay with Lily.”

With a nod, Brent climbed into the waiting SUV with Remy. Should have figured Zane wouldn’t miss small details like that. Now Remy was free to help his wife mend.

Within half an hour, they walked into Vanderbilt Hospital. Remy hurried to the information desk to inquire about his wife. A minute later, he returned. “She’s in 1334. Cracked ribs and a concussion.”

As they approached her room, Brent noticed Adam standing guard at the door, a phone pressed to his ear.

“Keep me in the loop, Z,” Adam said. “Brent and the others just arrived. I’ll pass on the word.” He ended the call and slid his phone into his pocket, a scowl on his face. “Glad you and the Cajun are in one piece, boss.”

“So am I. What’s going on?”

“Carstairs is in the wind. The Brentwood cops brought him to Vandy for treatment and he slipped out of the emergency area and disappeared.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


Rowan woke with a start when the door to the hospital hallway opened. She’d meant to rest her eyes for just a minute, but a glance at her watch told her one minute had stretched into sixty. She’d slept in an uncomfortable chair for an hour and had the stiff muscles to prove it.

Remy hurried to Lily’s bedside. Rowan breathed a sigh of relief. Brent must be here, too. From the rumble of male voices in the hallway, he was receiving an update from Adam.

Jake Davenport stretched in his own chair. “Remy, Lily is doing great. She’ll be released tomorrow. Take her home and spoil her for a couple weeks. Maybe take her to Louisiana. Your mother’s cooking will fix her right up.”

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