Page 26 of Fast Justice

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 theVenenocartel 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 theVenenos.

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.

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