“Congress,” Brennan corrects.
“Right. One of those family values fuckers. Especially big on ‘traditional family values,’ which is real fucking funny considering he had an underaged boy toy living in his beach house a few years ago.”
Wait. “How did you know about that?”
“Came up in Ryan’s research. He found a filed copy of an NDA. Didn’t specifically reference the type of relationship they had, but it wasn’t hard to read between the lines.”
“Jesus Mildred Christ.” For a minute I’m silent, chewing on the reasons Rowan’s ex might look for him when he’s about to become a very public figure. The answer that comes to me turns my blood to ice. “He might try to make sure Rowan doesn’t spill anything.”
Jalen nods. “Many ways to do that. Including putting a hit on a young man whose only mistake was trusting the wrong sugar daddy.”
I’m already on my way to the door. “I have to find him.” My gut knows Jalen’s right, as much as I don’t want him to be. I already killed the person whose name was attached to Rowan’s contracts, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. The guy I killed could have been paid to handle the risky part.
“Hang on a second, man.” Jalen’s holding his phone up to his ear.
I spin with what must be a murderous expression on my face. “I have to get to Rowan.”
“And you don’t fucking know where he is. He texted me earlier asking him to call. Already tried while I was waiting for Prissy McBossypants’s drink earlier. Four times. Rang through to voicemail the first three times, then went straight to voicemail at the end. Could be nothing, but doesn’t that sound a little like someone shutting his phone off to stop the calls from coming in? Somone’s getting sloppy in his old age.”
Shit. He’s right. I’m not thinking clearly. Thank fuck someone is. “I’m not that old.”
Jalen switches to talking to whoever’s on the phone. “Hey. Following up on the information about Rowan. Can you ping the last location on his phone?”
Brennan, who’s standing now, gives Jalen the finger but doesn’t interrupt. Good fucking thing since I’m already cramping from stomach knots.
The next few minutes are the longest of my life. I pace Brennan’s office like a circus tiger until Jalenfinallythanks the person on the other end and hangs up. “His phone was last tagged near Interstate two seventy-five.”
Brennan frowns. “That’s probably not a good sign.”
“Why? Where is that?” My attention pings back and forth, trying to read any information from their faces.
“Runs south along the coast. Means he’s nowhere near home.” Jalen pulls up a mapping app on his phone to show me.
Jalen’s app shows the coast is dotted by many smaller cities and towns, yet one specifically catches my attention. “Ana Maria Island. Rowan mentioned his ex having a house there. Fuck.”
Not wanting to waste any more time, I’m almost to the door when I hear footsteps behind me. “I’m riding with you.”
“You don’t owe me anymore, Jalen.”
“Maybe not, but Rowan’s one of ours, and we look after the family. Besides, you run in there half-cocked without a solid plan and you’re going to be the one needing emergency surgery in the middle of a bayou.”
As tempted as I am to argue, I have to admit I can use the help. “Fine. Thank you. See if your hacker can find a floor plan of this guy’s house while I drive.”
I’m forcing myself to breathe as I peel out of the parking lot, praying we can get to Rowan before it’s too late.
19
Notes:
Sorry this chapter is late. I got trapped under a fallen banana tree.
Rowan
My head is pounding when I wake up. My tongue is thick and my mouth is dry, and my stomach has that sloshy feeling I can’t stand. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I have a hangover. I’ve got that awful feeling like a bowling ball has replaced my brain. There’s a heavy sluggishness when I try to move my limbs.
Air conditioning kicks on with a blast, making me shiver. It doesn’t feel right. I never keep my place this cold. I groan and reach to pull the blanket back over me, but my hand hits air. The mattress feels too hard, for that matter, and there’s a spicy smell I can’t stand lingering in my nose.
It takes a while to even pry my eyes open, let alone look around. When I do, I’m confused. This place is familiar, but it’s not my apartment, which is where I was when—
