Chapter 31
Rowan opened his eyes, feeling like he had the worst hangover in history. Temple pounding, he blinked, tried to figure out what he was seeing. Or where he was.
He shifted against what turned out to be a dusty, weather-beaten wood floor and realized that his wrists were restrained behind his back. And great, his ankles were restrained too. Just freaking great.
“Don’t bother trying to escape. You’re not getting out of those ropes,” a deep male voice said.
Rowan swiveled toward the sound, immediately regretted the quick movement as a spike of pain punctured his skull. “Curtis?” The word came out slurred as he saw two of the man he’d mourned. But Curtis was dead—he’d been to the funeral. And no, he wasn’t seeing two people, just one. Groaning against a swell of nausea, he closed his eyes, let his head fall back on the dusty floor. “You’re his brother. Cooper.”
There was a short pause, then a shuffling sound. “I am. And I’m truly sorry you’re caught up in this.”
“What is this?” He didn’t move… Nope, couldn’t. And figured that if he wasn’t dead, it was because this psycho was keeping him alive for a reason.
“Justice.”
“Killing an innocent artist and a good detective is justice?” he rasped out, his throat dry. It made him wonder how long he’d been out.
“Collateral damage.” More shuffling.
Rowan opened his eyes, saw the man had walked over to a window, looked out through slatted beams covering it. Moving his head slowly, Rowan glanced around the room, saw that it looked like an old cabin for camping. There were faded pictures of instructions for kids on how to boat properly, how to tie knots, and other outdoorsy things. “Did you take me to a summer camp?”
“More or less. This is where Adalyn spent a lot of her summers.” There was a bite of rage in the man’s voice when he said her name.
“What’s she have to do with this?” Rowan figured he knew, but decided to play dumb. Hopefully he’d get more answers, more insight into this nut.
Cooper Miller turned away from the window, stalked toward him, and that was when Rowan saw the crazy in his blue eyes. And he didn’t use that word lightly. In the field he’d seen that look only twice before, both with martyr types, “true believers” in their cause. Whatever Miller’s cause was, he was a true believer. Those types of people were the most dangerous.
“Don’t play stupid with me,” the man snarled, kicked Rowan once in the upper thigh.
He bit back a growl at the impact, bared his teeth.
“She got Curtis killed! And then you show up here with her. I expected more from you. You were his CO! He loved you, man.”
“And I loved him. We all did. I looked for you at the funeral.” Rowan shifted topics, wanting to move away from Adalyn if possible since it was clearly a trigger point.
“I couldn’t get there. I didn’t…didn’t even know about it until after. I’d gone dark for an op, had no contact with the outside world when it happened.” He turned away from Rowan, stalked back toward the window and just stared through the broken slats. “Everything went to shit,” he muttered more to himself than Rowan.
Rowan tried to twist his wrists, felt the burn of rope against his skin. Twisted again anyway. If he could loosen the ties, maybe he could get out of this mess.
“I didn’t even know it was her fault until recently,” Miller continued.
“It wasn’t her fault.” The words were out before he could stop himself. But screw it, she wasn’t taking the blame for what happened. “Bes Ali lied to her, fed her bad intel, and good men died. My people paid the price because of Ali. Not her.”
Miller swiveled again, the energy around him crackling as he stomped over to Rowan. The ground beneath them shuddered, dust motes puffing out with each step, only visible in the little beams of light highlighting the floor. He towered over Rowan, nothing but rage and chaos in his pale blue eyes. “She should have known better. Never should have worked with that animal. She’s just as guilty!”
Then he lifted his boot and it was the last thing Rowan saw before blackness engulfed him.