Rowan sat next to Kevin’s hospital bed, holding his limp hand. On the opposite side sat Nick, Kevin’s soon-to-be fiancé, though he didn’t know it yet.
Staring down into her brother’s swollen, battered face, she pressed her lips together and prayed he’d get the chance to live his happily ever after.
“He’s gonna be okay,” Nick said to her quietly, stroking his thumb over the back of Kevin’s other hand. “The doctors had to sedate him to help him heal, that’s all.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. The shockwave from the blast had ruptured Kevin’s eardrums and spleen. A surgeon had removed it and stopped the internal bleeding that had almost cost Kevin his life. He’d been conscious when they’d put him on the operating table, and all brain scans showed no sign of permanent injury, merely a concussion.
Beneath his closed lids his eyes were swollen out like golf balls, a hideous, almost neon purple. They wouldn’t know about his vision until the medical staff reduced his meds and he regained full consciousness. Hopefully sometime tomorrow.
“You should take a break. Go get some coffee or something,” Nick said.
“No.” She was still full from the dinner Kevin had brought her. The thought of forcing anything else down her throat made her stomach gurgle. “I can’t leave him.” Her parents were outside the room talking to the doctors. They’d met her here within minutes of Kevin arriving in the ER.
Nick reached across Kevin’s legs to cover her hand, bringing her gaze to his. His deep brown eyes were bloodshot, but full of understanding and kindness. “You didn’t do this to him, Rowan. It’s not your fault.”
Her breath hitched on a strangled sob. “Yes it is,” she whispered, her throat so tight she could barely get the words out.
“No. Honey, no.”
She nodded stubbornly, refusing to let him try and assuage her guilt. “It should have been me.” It would have been her, whenever she’d finally finished up for the night and gone down to her rental car.
God, who had planted the bomb? Logic dictated that it must be connected to the Ruiz case. But how would he pull something like this off from behind bars? Unless it was someone else from the Veneno cartel trying to send a message. Nieto maybe?
Investigators were working on it now. It scared her to death to know someone had tried to kill her, but seeing her brother lying so still and fragile in her place was far worse. Whoever had targeted her had clearly intended for her to die tonight. And they hadn’t cared who else was caught up in the blast. Another clue. The sophistication of the operation, the method and the nonchalance about collateral damage bore all the hallmarks of the Venenos.
Nick squeezed her hand, his brows drawing together in a fierce frown. “Hey. Listen to me. It’s no one’s fault but the sickos who planted the bomb. The FBI will find out who soon enough. And when Kevin wakes up, he’ll want to know you’re safe.”
She’d been holding it together really well given the circumstances, but at that her eyes filled. She blinked fast, staring down at her brother once more, impatiently swiped away the tears that fell. Nick was right. That was so Kevin. To wake up like this in the hospital after having major surgery, find out what happened and immediately worry for her safety, rather than his own.
Nick gave her fingers one more squeeze and released her, sitting back in his chair. “Kevin’s going to be okay. And he won’t be alone. I’m not budging from this bed until he wakes up.”
She gave him a tremulous smile. “Not sure if I ever told you this, but I really love you, you know.”
His answering smile was warm but tired. “Thanks. I love you too. I always wanted a sister. My brothers are total pains in the ass,” he said fondly.
The door to the private room opened and her father appeared, his face drawn. “Rowan. There’s someone from the DEA here to see you. Says he’s a friend of Kevin’s.”
“Who is it?”
“Special Agent Freeman.”
Surprise flashed through her, but Nick spoke first, sounding surprised. “Malcolm’s here?” Nick had been there the night Kevin had introduced her to Malcolm.
Her father gestured down the hall. “He’s out in the waiting room. Wanted to speak to Rowan privately.”
She glanced at Nick in indecision. She wanted to see Malcolm so badly, but hated to leave her brother.
“It’s okay, go,” he told her. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“I won’t be long.” She let go of Kevin’s hand, fought the stab of guilt that pierced her chest and stood. Her leg and back muscles were stiff from sitting hunched over for so long, and the headache was a dull pounding in her temples.
Ignoring her father’s questioning look, she turned sideways to pass him in the doorway and headed down the hall toward the waiting area. Her mother was at the nurse’s station asking more questions. Rowan nodded at her on the way by and quickly looked away, not wanting to invite conversation or field any questions at the moment. She wanted to find out why Malcolm was here.
The door at the end of the hall loomed larger and larger as she approached, her high heels clicking on the scuffed linoleum floor. If he was cold and distant to her right now she wasn’t sure she could handle it. Not after this.
Taking a deep breath to collect herself, she braced for the moment when she saw Malcolm. Then she pushed the door open, the tattered remnants of her emotional armor gathered securely around her to protect her aching heart.
MALCOLM STOOD FROM his chair when Rowan entered the empty room at the far end of the intensive care unit. She stopped just inside the doorway, her posture stiff, her face pale. There was blood smeared on the front of her top and her knees were scraped, the dried blood visible just beneath the hem of her pencil skirt. She’d obviously come straight here from the scene and hadn’t had time to change.
“Hi,” she said quietly, her expression guarded.
He suppressed the snap of irritation that look caused. Now was not the time to wonder why she would feel wary around him. “Hey. I heard what happened and came as soon as I could.”
She nodded, her eyes a little puffy and red. “It’s fine. Thanks for coming.”
The inane, overly-polite conversation was like barbed wire scraping over his skin. They were like two polite strangers facing each other. “Is he all right?”
“No. He just came out of surgery a little while ago. They took his spleen, fixed other internal bleeding. His blood pressure’s low now, but it’s stable. As far as brain injury, they think he’ll be okay. Not sure yet about his vision.”
Mal hid a wince. “I’m so sorry.”
She exhaled and lowered her gaze to the floor. “Thanks.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Besides hug you. God, she looked like she needed one, and he ached to wrap his arms around her, even if he never could again. Hugging her after the car accident yesterday had been pure reflex. He hadn’t been thinking, had just been so relieved to see she was okay. A mistake.
A shiny lock of ebony hair brushed against her cheek as she shook her head. “No. But I appreciate you coming down here. It would mean a lot to Kevin, knowing you’re here.”
But what about you? He bit back the words before they could burst out of his mouth. They were done. He needed to accept it on every level and drop it.
The pause lengthened, filling the space between them with a brittle silence as they stood facing each other. Mal tried to think of something comforting to say. As hurt as he was, as indifferent as he wanted to appear to her, he still cared and hated to see her torn up like this. Hated even more that someone had targeted her in the first place.
His blood pressure had dropped fifty points when Taggart had told him about the explosion. It was shitty enough that Kevin had been so badly injured. But when Mal thought of Rowan being in her brother’s place right now, when he imagined her walking out of the building juggling her briefcase and files and pulling out her keys to unlock her rental car…
The thought of losing her for good was incomprehensible. Okay, she wasn’t his and never would be again, but the idea of her life being snuffed out in an instant and that precious light extinguished from the world forever just ripped him up inside.
“What happened?” he asked finally when he couldn’t think of anything else safe to say.
Those deep blue eyes lifted to his. “He stopped by my office with dinner. You know Kev, always taking care of people, and he knows how I get when I’m working on a big case like this.”
Yeah, she went into pure workaholic mode. She didn’t eat, barely slept. He’d seen that once firsthand during their too-short time together, when he’d come by her place after work and found her buried in papers.
Part of him admired her single-minded determination and work ethic. He understood what it meant to be driven. He totally got what it took to reach a lifelong goal.
But there was something inside her driving her to those extremes that he didn’t understand. Almost as if she pushed herself to the brink of her endurance because she was afraid of what might happen if she didn’t. Like she still felt she had something to prove—whether to herself or someone else, he wasn’t sure. He suspected it had to do with her father, but she hadn’t kept Mal around long enough for him to find out.
“I’d left my car at the shop to get fixed yesterday. Kev picked it up for me on the way over as a surprise, then was going to return my rental for me when he left. He…” She faltered, swallowed and glanced away before continuing. “He hit the remote start button on the key fob when he got outside. It exploded.” She drew in a steadying breath, still avoiding eye contact. “If he’d been in the car when he started it, he would have—” Her voice shredded, igniting a primal, frantic need inside him to comfort her. Make it stop hurting.
She pressed her lips together in a clear effort to keep from crying and wrapped her arms around her middle, and Mal’s resolve crumbled. He could no more keep his distance from her at that moment than he could quit breathing.
Without a word he erased the space between them and gathered her into his arms. She was stiff at first, her body rigid, arms remaining clasped around her own waist. He simply tucked her against his chest and rested his chin on top of her head without saying anything or pressuring her to talk.
After a few seconds, she unwound like a coiled spring, her arms winding around his waist, her cheek pressed to his heart. Her shoulders jerked and she made a soft, choked sound, like she was desperately trying not to cry. Afraid of appearing weak, even in front of him. Or maybe especially in front of him.
It shredded him.
Mal closed his eyes and sighed, twisted up inside. God, sweetness, I’m not gonna hurt you. He tightened his hold, slid one hand up to cradle the back of her head in his palm, keeping her close.
She shuddered, sucked in an unsteady breath, then let it out slowly and seemed to melt into his body. Her silent acceptance of his comfort soothed him on the deepest level. Her hair was cool and silky under his hand, her slender curves melded to his front, the sweet scent of her shampoo teasing him. She fit against him so perfectly, like she’d been made for him.
With effort he stopped the thought, refused to wish for something that could never be. If life had taught him anything, it was to live in the moment. So he would take this one and savor it, memorize every detail of it, because it wouldn’t last.
He could have held her like that forever but all too soon she composed herself and straightened, pulling away to wipe her face and run a self-conscious hand over her hair. Mal’s fingers itched to do it for her.
“Thanks. I needed that,” she murmured.
Mal nodded, stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. He didn’t ask to see Kevin, because it was family only in the ICU. “Can I get anything for you guys? Call someone?”
“No, but thanks. We’re planning to take shifts at Kev’s bedside until he wakes up, although Nick has already told us he’s not leaving—” She broke off when the door swung open.
Her father stood there in dress slacks and a button-down shirt, his gaze cutting from Mal to Rowan and back, a frown pulling his salt-and-pepper eyebrows together. “Rowan. Who’s this?”
So she hadn’t ever told her father about them. Not that Mal should have been surprised.
She opened her mouth to respond but Mal beat her to it, stepping forward and offering his hand. “Special agent Malcolm Freeman, Mr. Stewart.”
“FBI?”
“DEA.”
Those shrewd blue eyes exactly the same color as Rowan’s studied him as they shook hands. “Have we met?”
“No, sir. But I know both Kevin and Rowan.” And heard plenty about you. Not all of it flattering, either.
Her father nodded and withdrew his hand, switching his attention to his daughter. “The FBI agent in charge is here to talk to us.”
Rowan sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of her neck, reminding Mal that she must still be sore from the accident. “All right.”
Her father turned away for a second to wave someone in, and in entered Rowan’s mother and the FBI agent, wearing the standard dark blue windbreaker. “He’s got news about the case,” he explained. “Agent Freeman, if you’ll excuse us.”
Rowan surprised Mal by putting a restraining hand on his shoulder, to stop him from leaving. “Actually, I’d like him to stay. He’s involved with the case I’ve been working on, so he knows what’s been going on behind the scenes.”
Her father frowned again, gave Mal a cursory once-over, then dismissed him by turning to the Fed. “All right. Go ahead.”
The forty-ish agent got right to it. “They found another device wired to the engine of your boss’s car,” he told Rowan.
She blanched, her stomach grabbing. “They were able to dismantle it, I hope?”
“Yes. A search of the other vehicles in the lot hasn’t turned up any other devices so far, and of course we’re checking the building and perimeter as well.”
Rowan shook her head. “How did someone plant bombs in two vehicles right out in front of our office without anyone noticing? Without security noticing?”
“We’re questioning the security members and reviewing video footage now. Your boss has been moved to a hotel for now, and both he and his family have police protection. We suggest you do the same.”
She shook her head. “I don’t plan on leaving here until my brother wakes up and I know he’s going to be okay.”
“We’ve got an agent posted on this floor for your family’s protection. When you do leave the premises, a police officer will escort you. But for now we don’t suggest going home.”
Mal gave a mental snort. Police protection? Against the Veneno cartel? Screw that.
“She can stay at my place,” he announced, and all eyes snapped to him in surprise. He held Rowan’s for a long moment before speaking to the other agent. “I live in a secure building. I’ve been temporarily removed from my current assignment and can watch Miss Stewart until you get something else arranged. I’m not comfortable sending her outside of this hospital with nothing more than police protection.”
Hamilton had assured him he would take over bodyguard duties for Anya until Mal had everything settled on his end. This wasn’t about feelings he may or may not still have for Rowan. This was about doing the right thing and making sure she was safe.
The agent nodded once in acknowledgment, then glanced at Rowan and her parents. “Well?”
“If you’re sure,” Rowan began to Mal, seeming surprised he’d made the offer, “then I’ll go with you.”
“I’m sure.” The surprise in her eyes annoyed him. Yeah, she’d hurt him more than she seemed to realize when she’d decided she was done with him. That didn’t mean he didn’t care about her wellbeing, and after something like this? No goddamn way he was letting some beat cop guard her when the Venenos might have her in their sights.
Not only that, he considered Kevin a friend, and it was the least Mal could do to look after Kev’s sister right now. Besides, it would only be for a couple of days, tops. He was a big boy. He could grin and bear having her at his place that long to ensure she was safe.
Rowan’s father’s hard blue stare bored into him. “How did you say you know my daughter?”
“I met him through Kev at a gala,” Rowan cut in, sounding exasperated.
“And how do you know Kevin?” he demanded, never taking his eyes off Malcolm.
“Dad, stop. It’s okay. I trust him.” She turned those blue eyes on Mal, and there again was that weird catch in his chest. Not really painful, more like pressure. As though invisible fingers were closing around his heart. “I feel safe with him.”
That shouldn’t have puffed up his ego so much, but it did. Mal nodded at her once. “I’ll stay in here until you want to leave.”
“Are you sure? I don’t know how long it’ll take for him to wake up.”
“I’m sure.” He could stretch out on the floor and sleep if he needed to. This room was more comfortable than a lot of places he’d bedded down in during his military and DEA career.
“Okay then. Thank you.” She flashed him a grateful smile that set off a pang of yearning inside him before walking out after her parents, leaving Mal alone with his thoughts. Mostly they were telling him this was the right thing to do, but still a damn bad idea as far as his heart was concerned.
Having Rowan at his place, under the same roof. Her sleeping in the bed across the hall. Every time he saw her there, every moment he spent with her in his intimate space a reminder of what might have been.
Blowing out a deep breath, he sank into a chair and pulled out his phone to call Hamilton and Taggart. Only a few days, he told himself. Rowan would only be with him for a day, maybe two at most before they arranged a security detail for her.
The Navy had taught him how to mask his emotions half a lifetime ago. He could keep his true feelings for her hidden a couple days, no problem.