Mack looked up at him, his voice hollow. “But maybe I just wanted to believe it so badly that I ignored the signs. The late-night meetings, the phone calls he didn’t want me to hear, the way he’d get angry whenever Rowan’s name came up.”
“He was threatened by Rowan,” Catherine said. “Even I knew that.”
Because Rowan could take everything from him. The thought drilled into him, through him.
Alden was a monster because he was scared.
It still didn’t excuse his behavior.
“I should have known.” Mack buried his face in his hands. “I should have seen what he was doing.”
“You were a kid when I left,” Rowan said. “You had every right to hope your father had become a better man.”
“But he hasn’t.” Mack lifted his head, looked at Rowan. “He’s been killing people. Terrorizing families. And I’ve been living in his house, eating at his table, believing his lies.”
Rowan stared at his brother. Betrayal. How he hated it.
Mack got up. “I know where his office is. He took me there this week. He’s a consultant. I’ll go with you.”
“No. You won’t.” He met Mack’s eyes. “This is not for you, Mack. This is between me and…Alden.”
Mack seemed a little undone, but he swallowed and nodded. “I’ll send you a pin.” He pulled out his phone.
Aw, that meant he’d have to turn his phone on. “Thanks.”
Rowan turned back toward his truck, but Catherine’s voice stopped him.
“Rowan, wait.” When he looked back, she was gripping the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping her upright. “Be careful. Whatever he’s done, whatever this is about—he’s desperate. And desperate men do terrible things.”
“I know exactly what desperate men do,” Rowan said. “I’ve been one.”
The drive to downtown Renegade took fifteen minutes through empty streets, the downtown district a mix of restored brick buildings and modern glass structures that housed law offices and investment firms.
Most of the buildings stood dark now, their windows reflecting the streetlights.
Rowan pulled into the three-story parking garage attached to the Renegade Commerce Center, his truck tires squealing slightly on the polished concrete as he climbed to the third level. The structure was nearly empty.
The Commerce Center itself rose five stories, made of steel and glass. During business hours, it housed accounting firms, real-estate agencies, and the kinds of consulting companies that helped small towns navigate growth and development. Tonight, security lights illuminated the main entrance, but the interior lay dark except for the red glow of exit signs.
Rowan parked in a corner spot and climbed out. The security system on the Commerce Center was standard corporate fare—key-card access, motion sensors, cameras at the entrances. Rowan moved around to the building’s north side, where a maintenance door provided access to the loading dock. The lock was industrial grade but not military, and his tactical knife made short work of the deadbolt mechanism.
The interior stairwell smelled of cleaning supplies and fresh paint. Emergency lighting cast everything in a red glow, turning the neutral colors of the walls and railings into something more ominous. Rowan climbed past the first floor—medical offices and insurance agencies—and the second floor—lawyers and accountants. According to his brother’s text, Alden Jenkins maintained his private consulting office on the third floor.
Rowan’s phone buzzed against his ribs. Saxon’s name appeared on the screen. He stood in the stairwell and swiped it open.
“Where are you?” Saxon.
“Where do you think?”
“That’s not an answer, Hammer. After what happened tonight, you don’t go dark on me.”
“I’m fine.”
“You should have waited for me to get stitched up.” Saxon’s tone shifted to the voice he’d used during ops briefings. “Listen, I can track you if I need to. Your phone’s GPS is active, and I’m looking at it right now. You’re at the Commerce Center.”
Rowan paused on the third-floor landing. The hallway beyond the stairwell door stretched into darkness, lit only by the red exit signs and the faint glow from the windows at either end. “Then you know where to find me if this goes sideways.”
“Rowan—”
