"So, it is a bullet wound?"
Knox nodded. "You don't need to know the details, but it happened during an operation three months ago."
All color drained from Rowan's face. "I . . . I didn't know." He sank into one of the dining chairs. "Man, this . . . this job is more dangerous than I thought."
Wow. The fear on Rowan's face surprised him.
Rowan bit his lower lip. "I mean, I kinda figured that out last time I was here on Isadora with you and Jason, but I thoughtwhat happened then was abnormal." Squeaky panic rushed into his voice. "Do WhiteRock personnel always get shot on missions? I'm just a tech guy. I just—"
"Hey, slow down." He pulled up a chair and sat across from Rowan. "First of all, we all have our roles, and yours is definitely tech. We will never plan for you to be in the line of fire. But, like on the beach last night, sometimes we don't see the danger coming until the last second. If you'd come down to the beach to eat pizza with us last night—"
Rowan's eyes bulged from their sockets.
Oh man, I am not doing this well. God, please help me. Give me the words he needs to hear.
"Let me start over." Knox scratched the back of his head. "To answer your question, no, WhiteRock personnel do not get shot on every mission." He lowered his voice. And hoped Rowan heard the sincerity in his words. "But there will always be a risk of danger. And if that bothers you too much, there's no shame in finding safer employment."
Nervous confusion ran circles on Rowan's face.
Knox leaned forward, his forearms on his knees, and locked eyes with Rowan. "I know I give you a hard time sometimes, but honestly, man to man, I hope you decide to stay with WhiteRock. You're a genius with the tech stuff. Jason, Allie, and I don't have those skills, and I certainly don't have the patience to do what you do. I know it's scary sometimes, but what we do is important. We help people. We track down bad guys. We keep people safe. And we couldn't do those things as well without you."
Rowan's face flushed. He fidgeted with the hem of his Star Wars t-shirt. "I want to help." He lifted one shoulder. "I just always pictured myself as that guy in the movies, safely back at headquarters saving the world from his computer. I never wanted to do the macho fighting, shooting stuff."
"No one is asking you to. And I give you my word, Jason, Allie, and I will do everything we can to keep you safe from the action. But I wanted to be honest with you about the reality of this business, because I get the impression WhiteRock hasn't done a good job making you aware of the risks. I'm sorry about that. And I apologize for not realizing it sooner."
"Okay. I'll think about that."
Knox suddenly realized how much he wanted Rowan to stay with WhiteRock. He'd worked with several 'tech guys' over the years. And while Rowan was immature at times—annoyingly so—Knox appreciated his exceptional skill level beyond anyone else he'd ever worked with. And deep down, he had a soft spot for the kid. He didn't dislike him as much as Rowan probably assumed he did. He probably needed to work on that.
Rowan was staring at the unraveling hem of his shirt.
Knox waved a hand in front of the kid's face until Rowan looked up. "I meant what I said about wanting you to stay with WhiteRock. Don't make any hasty decisions. We need you. But I don't want you to feel shocked when things get dangerous."
"Okay."
"And if you do find yourself in a dangerous situation, just don't panic. Keep your head. You've got a brain bigger than most of us. You can find a way to stay safe until Jason, Allie, and I show up with all our macho skills."
He grinned at that. "Uh huh." He cocked his head. "So, you said you're protective of Allie. Are you two . . . like a thing, or something?"
Knox pursed his lips. He wasn't about to start talking about feelings with Rowan. But it might be a good idea if the kid had a clue about what was going on between Allie and Knox—not that Knox was even sure.
"A thing? Let me put it this way, I'm not putting a label on it, but yeah, there's something. Something significant." He narrowed his eyes at Rowan with a subtle grin. "Andexclusive."
Rowan threw up both hands. "Hey man, I wasn't flirting with her."
"Yes, you were." Knox chuckled. "Forget it." He waved his hand toward the table. "You done setting up?"
"Um, yeah. We're good."
"Excellent. Let's get out of here before they start prepping for the breakfast crowd."
Knox didn't feel small often. He was no giant at six feet tall, but he was stronger and more fit than most men. He ran fast, fought with precision, and rarely felt intimidated.
But when Kendall walked into the main dining room of The Mandeville Hotel, the man's size demanded respect. At least an inch over seven feet of bulging muscle, he lumbered over to Drakos like a muscular dinosaur sniffing out his next meal. The only thing Knox felt confident about was that he could outrun the behemoth if need be. He wouldn't arm wrestle the brawny giant.
Knox sat at a table for two with an adequate view of the table Drakos selected for the breakfast meeting with Kendall.
He wore a black wig and wire-rim glasses. Jason had decided at least two members of the team should be positioned in the room in case of emergency, so Allie sat across from him wearing a short brown wig and glasses. They'd obviously been targeted by the bomber the night before, so they assumed Byron knew who they were and what they looked like.
