His eyes snapped open, his senses suddenly alert as he battled through the fog of sleep and painkillers to try to figure out who the hell was in there with him. He tried to sit up. Couldn’t. His body, so light just a moment before, now seemed to weigh a ton and wouldn’t respond to his command.
“Who’s there?” he managed to croak out, his throat dry and scratchy, making the question sound more like a growl.
The shadows in the room shifted a little and a figure slowly moved into the small pool of light cast by the various monitors. And he recognized the face immediately. His pulse quickened in a mixture of fear and anger, but still his body wouldn’t respond. The monitors began to beep like crazy again, but Nurse Wanda didn’t barge in this time. He was alone. With the father of the man who’d tried to kill him.
“Get the fuck out,” Gabe spat.
Jeb Monroe tsked and shook his head. “Such vulgarity,” he drawled, sounding to Gabe’s ears as if he was under water. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to hear such language from a dirty pig who will lie down with any whore.”
“Nurse!” Gabe yelled as he reached for the call button, keeping his gaze locked on the crazy son of a bitch walking toward him. His fingers fumbled, his body not cooperating as a result of the pain meds, and the device tumbled from the edge of the bed.
Monroe’s hand lashed out, and he grasped Gabe by the throat, but not tight enough to choke him or leave any marks. The slippery bastard was far too smart for that. “The nurse just left the desk to attend to another patient down the hall, so I thought now would be a good time for us to chat.”
“There’ll be security footage of you entering my room,” Gabe warned.
Monroe’s brows lifted casually as if he was unconcerned. “True. But last time I checked, it wasn’t a crime to visit a man in the hospital.”
Gabe narrowed his eyes. “What the hell do you want, Monroe?”
He leaned in, his breath rank as he hissed, “You got my boy killed.”
“He got himself killed,” Gabe shot back. “And it’s on your head, Monroe. I’m guessing he was just following orders.”
Monroe chuckled darkly. “Orders? What orders?”
Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “Yours. You sent him to take out Elle McCoy, didn’t you?”
Monroe grinned. “Now why would I ever do such a thing, Deputy Dawson? I’m a peace-loving man who just wants his government to keep its promises and stop imposing its tyrannical laws on God-fearing citizens. I encourage nonviolent civil disobedience. Like Thoreau.”
Gabe scoffed. “Right. That’s exactly who you remind me of.”
“Don’t believe me?” Monroe said, arching his brow. “My views are right there on my website. You can’t prove I believe otherwise, Deputy. And you know it.”
“Why the hell did you come here?” Gabe hissed, his fury at the truth of Monroe’s words raging in his veins.
“Just wanted to say that I forgive you,” Monroe said.
Gabe stared at the man, wondering what the hell his angle was. “What?”
Monroe’s grin grew, the lights from the monitors casting his face in shadow, giving him an even more sinister look than usual. “Make no mistake, Deputy, there will be a reckoning for what occurred today, for the promising young life that was taken. But it won’t come from me. So whenever anyone asks, I will tell them I forgave you, just as the good Lord commands us.”
“Your son opened fire on innocent people at the courthouse,” Gabe reminded him. “There was only one way it could’ve ended. You wanted him to die today, to become a martyr for your cause.”
Monroe’s eyes flashed with anger. “We’re all required to make sacrifices in war.”
“The only war you’re involved in is the one going on in your own twisted mind,” Gabe insisted.
“Oh, no,” Monroe said, shaking his head. “You’re wrong. There’s been a war brewing for decades, brought on by the sins of this country, of our government. ‘When new gods were chosen, then war was in the gates.’ One day, you will have to decide which side you’re on, Deputy Dawson. The side of our government? Or the side of all that is righteous?”
Gabe met his gaze without flinching. “You threatening me, Monroe?”
Monroe chuckled and slowly drew away, releasing Gabe’s throat. “Of course not, Deputy. I don’t make threats.”
Gabe kept his gaze fixed on Monroe as the man sauntered toward the door, but he didn’t look back to gauge Gabe’s reaction or to offer a parting shot. He strode from the room with a casual gait, completely unconcerned with getting caught.
The moment Gabe heard the door close, he collapsed against the pillows and heaved a sigh of relief. But it wasn’t over. He knew that for damned sure. He could see it in Monroe’s eyes—fuck all his bullshit talk about forgiveness. Gabe knew better than to believe any of that.
The son of a bitch. He’d come to taunt Gabe, to assure Gabe he’d pay for his son’s death, to keep him looking over his shoulder, waiting for the attack that might never even come.
