Grabbing the coffees from Jo’s takes no time at all, and I consider looping around a few more blocks, just to work out some of this stress. Then I think about how I’d feel if I missed the call to pick up Ro, and I head back instead. The walk up South Congress is a grind as I try to balance four coffees and some sort of matcha concoction for Jake. About half a block from the shop, I recognize the large, very angry man banging on the door.
Heath.
I have no clue what to say to the man, and just as I decide I’d rather talk to almost anyone else right now, he sees me and starts charging in my direction.
"Heath, we're doing every—”
He stops me with a violent shove to the chest, toppling the drinks to the sidewalk.
“Heath—”
“Where the fuck is my brother?” He asks, talking over me. “Who the fuck is in charge here? Why weren't we told earlier? Were you even going to say anything to us? Or were you just going to deliver a casket to my front door?"
I wipe Jake’s matcha concoction from my shirt as best I can. “Heath, we are nowhere near that kind of a conversation right now. And we've got every means available to us, legal and not, and we are working this."
My voice cracks on the last words, and the tears I've been holding back all afternoon finally find release. "I promise you. I would give everything I own right now to be in his spot, to trade places with him. We're using every single resource we have."
Gripping my shoulders, his face crumples and tears spring to his eyes. Seconds later, he shakes himself and straightens up, still holding on to me.
"What about the people out in Wimberley? The woman with the freckles and the guy with the red hair. Roly said that you work with them."
I look around, not wanting to shush Heath when I was the one yelling at Hedy not even an hour ago. "Come inside. I’ll tell you what I can.”
We walk into the shop, and DB is in the entry area, waiting for us.
"Heath, we've met a few times at the gym. I'm DB."
He crowds DB, forcing him to lean on his cane in order not to topple over. "I know who the fuck you are. I’m the one who got my brother this job. Where is he?”
DB straightens himself, and Heath steps back.
"We don't have a specific location on him, but this is our only priority. You asked about our friends in Wimberley, and yes, they are involved. I can't give you all the details, but I can tell you that they’ve risked jail time to hack government networks to find your brother."
Heath rubs his face with his large hands and grinds his jaw. “When y'all brought him back from East Texas, he was beaten and bruised. What the hell kind of operation are you running around here? I never see the perfect Nordic twins with bruises. I never see this one," he says, pointing to me, "with bruises. Why is my brother bruised? What is happening to him right now? What the fuck are you doing to protect him? He's an analyst, not an operative. Why the fuck did you have him out there to begin with?"
"Heath, he was with me when we got the call. He insisted on coming with.”
Heath, a man I know to be a kind and gentle father, grabs me and slams me against the wall. “Are you telling me this is your fault? You're out here gettingcoffee, and he's probably being tortured by God knows who for God knows what kind of information. Stop sitting on your fucking thumbs, and go find my fucking brother, right fucking now."
Normally, the thought of someone else manhandling me is chuckle-worthy at best. And one might look at Heath and decide that he couldn't possibly be stronger than me. In this particular moment, I'm not so sure. And I feel the exact same way.
"Heath, man. I am taking this seriously. I will not rest, I will not sleep, until I have him back again. You have to believe me."
He starts pacing between the couches in the entry area of the tattoo shop, shooting me a look that is at once desperate and forlorn. “Do you know anything? Or is everything just a guess to you? Is there even one solid piece of evidence or information that you can give me?"
"Not beyond what we’ve told you already. But we can say that Ronan helped save two young women and their children after years of being held against their will by the man who has Ronan now. He's brave, he's resourceful, and he's strong. And that motherfucker made a huge mistake in taking him. He will be made to pay, I can promise you that."
Putting his finger in my face, Heath snarls. “No one rests until he is found. Not you. Not the rest of this three-ring circus you call a team. And he betterfuckingbe found alive. Because if he's not? You and I are going to have a very different conversation."
The bell over the door goes off as Roly walks in, stalking over to confront Heath. “Heath, baby, stop this. Don't threaten the guys who are trying to find him."
“They’re the reason he got taken,” he shouts hoarsely, sadness on the edge of his voice. “This is what I was worried about. I suggested him for the Dallas office, and they pull him into this illegal bullshit, and now we can't even call the cops. We can't go to the news. We're stuck, waiting for these assholes to figure it out."
"Baby. I told you. They've got Wimberley on it. You remember that thing with Jake at the gym? They’re scary-ass motherfuckers, hon. Better than the cops. They'll find him. I know it," he says, nailing me with a glare.
I nod, and send back a pinched, grateful smile.
Roly steps onto the couch and opens his arms. Heath turns to him, collapsing into his muscular hold. Heath’s breathing becomes heavy and his shoulders begin to shake as he silently sobs into Roly’s neck.
