Rowan stood there, and all of it just boiled inside him. The man who’d terrorized his childhood, who’d broken his mother’s spirit, who’d driven him from his home. The man who’d been playing the reformed mayor while orchestrating a campaign of terror against his own community.
The man who’d just tried to burn his family alive.
“We’ll find him,” Saxon said quietly, lethally.
A black pickup pulled up, past the fire trucks.
Mack got out, running hard toward Rowan, his face pale as he took in the burning ruins and emergency vehicles. “I saw the smoke from the house and—” He stopped, his gaze on Sierra and Huck. “What happened?”
“Your father just tried to kill my family,” Rowan said, and tried, oh, he tried, not to add blame to his tone.
It wasn’t Mack’s fault his father was a monster.
Mack’s face went white. “That’s impossible. He was home all morning. We had breakfast together, talked about ranch business?—”
“When did you last see him?” Saxon interrupted.
“Around eleven. Said he had meetings in town.” Mack’s voice grew smaller as understanding dawned. “I’ve been working the south pasture all day.”
Rowan drew in a breath. Stared at Mack’s truck.
Alden had maybe a thirty-minute head start. In the right vehicle, Rowan could catch him before he reached the county line.
“Rowan.” Sierra’s voice, soft.
He stilled. No. He wasn’t going to leave her. Or Huck. Sheesh—what kind of person was he that he’d even consider?—
“Rowan Wallace.” Sierra’s voice.
He looked down at her. She’d pulled off the oxygen mask, her eyes clear and focused despite everything she’d been through. “Go get him.”
He blinked. Shook his head. “No—I’m not leaving you.”
“Jackson’s here. Mike’s here. We’re safe.” Her voice grew stronger. “But if you don’t stop him now, he’ll disappear. And then we won’t be safe, will we?”
Rowan swallowed. Looked at Saxon, who stood, hands on his hips, breathing hard. He gave him a shrug, a look. “She’s not wrong.”
Sierra reached for his hand, her fingers wrapping around his with surprising strength. Her dark eyes held his, steady and sure.
“Go get him, Hammer.”
She should feel grateful. Relieved.
Instead, someone had scooped out Sierra’s insides, turned her hollow. Smoke still saturated her hair, turning it greasy, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw flames.
Saw Huck, tied to a chair, bruised, terrified.
Saw Rowan in a fist fight, or diving out of the window of his burning house.
So yeah, she just wanted to go home and get in her bed. Thankfully, Bailey had Huck, was feeding him junk food from the cafeteria, and frankly, Sierra couldn’t leave the hospital without talking to Morrie.
He might help her make sense of all this.
The crutches rubbed against her palms as she maneuvered through the doorway of room 314 at Renegade Mercy General Hospital. Three hours had passed since Rowan pulled her from the burning house. Two hours of X-rays and breathing treatments and doctors poking at her scraped knees and twisted ankle.
And one hour since Rowan had finally left her side and headed out on a manhunt. Martinelli made him take backup, but the look on her man’s face suggested they might just get in the way.
She didn’t know how she felt about that.
