Maren grabs the mask the medic finally managed to get in place, pulling it down so she can yell back at my brother. “Are you trying to victim blame me?”
There aren’t many people in this world who give my brother the shit he deserves, but the tiny brunette is doing a pretty good job. I’m impressed.
I think I’m going to hire her.
Trevor rakes a hand through his hair again, proving just how upset he is. I don’t think I’ve seen a hair out of place on him in years. “No I’m not fucking victim blaming you.” He seems to take a breath, and I almost feel like he’s trying to calm down, which is not something I’ve seen him attempt before. “How did he get in the supply room with you?”
His rephrasing of the question seems to slightly appease Maren, smoothing down a few of the feathers he’d ruffled. “The prick must have stolen somebody’s badge, because he let himself in.”
“Who the fuck are we talking about?” I glance down, checking on Titus as he starts to come around. “And what in the hell exploded?”
“A bomb.” Mariah is now sitting on the floor at my feet, cradling my brother’s head in what remains of her lap.
Surely I didn’t hear that right. “A bomb?”
I hope to God she’s wrong. Otherwise I’m gonna have to call Pierce back and tell him there’s no way I’m gonna make his deadline this time.
I’ve got to call Pierce. And I really, really don’t want to.
Because he’s not going to be happy. He’ll be in good company, because I’m not very happy either.
For a myriad of reasons.
He picks up on the second ring, but doesn’t greet me in the normal way. Instead he shocks the shit out of me.
“How much damage was done?”
“I guess word travels fast.” I grab my foam cup and tip back what remains of my coffee, along with a collection of aspirin I don’t bother counting.
“I pay a lot of money for word to travel fast.” Pierce stops talking, and I know it’s because he’s waiting for my answer.
“We all went down and looked the area over earlier today. Tucker says it’s structurally fine, but if we want him to get those rooms back up and running right away, it will put his team behind on all their contracts. We opted to temporarily block the rooms off instead.” In the week since the explosion, everything we used to keep inside them has been moved to a secure area.
A really fucking secure area. As in, an only our family knows where it is, secure area.
“Was anyone hurt?” Pierce’s voice carries genuine concern.
“A few minor bumps and bruises.” I tip my head, reconsidering. “And the guy who set the bomb did explode along with it.”
I’ve always thought of myself as a nice person. The type who would be upset at any loss of life, regardless of who it was.
Turns out, I’m not a nice person after all. Because if I could reassemble all the bits and pieces of Dan—or whateverhis real name was—I would. Just so I could blow him up again for what he almost cost my brother.
Titus would have never survived losing Mariah and the babies. And I can’t say that I’d blame him. On a very tiny, minute scale, I understand how that sort of loss can feel. The pain. The sadness. The way it haunts you every day, leaving you second-guessing every choice you’ve ever made.
I imagine what my brother felt over the loss of Kara and their baby is the ache I carry multiplied by a million. Losing Mariah would be all-consuming. Unbearable.
Pierce clicks his tongue. “That’s unfortunate. I would have liked to have the opportunity to look into your perpetrator’s background a little more.”
Fuck. I didn’t even think of that. And it changes a few things.
If I could reassemble all the bits and pieces of Dan, now I would first let Pierce run his prints and try to figure out who he is.
Then I would blow him up again.
“I might still be able to go scrape up some DNA off the floor of the storage room if you want.” I snort a little, amused by my own slightly morbid joke.
Pierce isn’t amused. He’s deadly serious when he says, “Do that. Overnight it to me.”
