Chapter Nine

Rowan walked into the entryway of Malcolm’s condo late the next morning and waited while he closed and locked the door behind them, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her and a low-grade anxiety churning inside. Malcolm had waited to bring her here until after Kevin had finally woken up. The drive here from the hospital had been tense, neither of them saying anything.

It was strange to be here again.

The one time she’d come before was to have dinner with him one night about a week before she broke things off, the two of them eating at his kitchen table together. He’d cooked for her and set the table with candles, even though she could only stay long enough to eat and have a short conversation before returning to the office. He’d done it just so they could spend a little time together slotted into their hectic schedules.

Now the memory made her sad. He’d only offered this solution out of some sense of obligation to her or maybe to Kevin, though she was grateful no matter the reason because right now she didn’t know where else to turn. While she was here she might be a little uncomfortable with the strain between them, but without a doubt she would be safe. Malcolm would make sure of it.

“One of my teammates will bring a suitcase over for you later tonight,” he said, his tone brusque, all business as he hung up his windbreaker on a peg beside the door.

“Okay. Thank you.” This was more awkward than she’d expected, and she was still worried about her brother. Kevin had come to briefly before she’d left, long enough for them to tell him what had happened. He took it all in, reached for her hand. I’m glad you’re okay. God, she still had a lump in her throat from that.

“You can take the guestroom.” Malcolm walked past her into the kitchen, his clean, citrusy scent drifting back to her. “Pantry’s here, and help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. I don’t have much in there at the moment, but if you give me a list I’ll go grab whatever you need.”

She was merely an overnight guest to him, and from his demeanor not an entirely welcome one. Rowan swallowed and squeezed the handle of her briefcase tighter, feeling uncharacteristically small and vulnerable as she stood there in his kitchen. “Thanks.”

He stopped by the kitchen counter, faced her with his hands on his hips. Gorgeous, strong, masculine. And completely unreachable across the chilly divide between them. “You hungry?”

“No.” Shaken, lost and alone, yes. Definitely not hungry.

His expression softened slightly but he made no move toward her, his earlier attentiveness at the hospital long gone. His hot and cold routine confused her. Frustrated her. But she wasn’t going to ask him about it. “Why don’t you go get settled, then. Take a bath, maybe lie down for a bit.”

She wanted him to hold her. Tight, like he used to. The way he had at the hospital. Like he still cared. She’d worked long and hard to establish a reputation for inner strength. The world saw her as strong, driven, not needing anyone else.

It was a lie.

Underneath that carefully constructed façade, she was lonely and missed the man standing across the room. And right now she was scared and worried and sick with guilt over her brother.

“Okay,” she murmured, shoving her feelings deep down inside. What Kevin had said to her before he’d left her office was true, but she wasn’t about to embarrass herself by throwing herself at Malcolm and getting her heart crushed when he rejected her. The man in front of her now was hard, remote. She didn’t know how to deal with him.

The guestroom was at the far end of the condo, across the hall from his room. She shut the door behind her and faced the queen-size bed with its thick burgundy comforter, the window beside it looking out over the park behind the building. Setting down her briefcase, she let out a slow, deep breath.

Golden yellow sunlight streamed through the bright green leafy canopies of the oak and maple trees planted between the playground and the road. Young children played on the swings and teeter-totters or drew chalk pictures on the sidewalk while their parents looked on.

So innocent, oblivious to the dangers in this world. It was her job to ensure some of those dangers were put behind bars where they couldn’t threaten anyone again.

Today, her lifelong goal had almost killed her brother.

Tears blurring her vision, she looked away from the park and took in the rest of the room. A long wooden dresser sat along the far wall, a giant mirror on top. It looked old, maybe from the early 1900s. Next to it was the door to the en suite. She would have liked a shower, but she had nothing else to change into and didn’t feel like putting her bloodstained work clothes back on.

So she lay down on the bed instead and tried to get a grip on her turbulent emotions. Within moments, the lock on the box she’d shoved everything into shattered, hitting her in an unforgiving torrent. The tears she’d been holding at bay broke free, shaking her shoulders with their force. She was careful to stay quiet, not wanting Malcolm to hear her.

Finally the tears slowed, leaving her exhausted and taking in quivering breaths. She closed her sore, swollen eyelids, the sound of the children playing in the park coming in faintly through the window.

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she opened her eyes to see the walls of the room ablaze with orange and pink. Sunset.

She checked her phone, but no one had called or texted. No update on her brother, then. Her stomach growled. She glanced at the door, hesitating. Missing meals wouldn’t kill her; she missed meals all the time when she was working. Except right now she could really use some company and wasn’t going to hide in here all night simply to avoid Malcolm.

Pushing up, she went into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth with the spare toothbrush she found in the drawer. When she opened the guestroom door a few minutes later, the muted sounds of the TV came from the living room.

Malcolm looked up when she came around the corner. He was sprawled on the couch still in his jeans and T-shirt that stretched across the defined muscles in his chest and shoulders, a decorative cushion beneath his head. He sat up, running his gaze over her in assessment. “Get some sleep?”

“Yes.”

He got to his feet and walked into the kitchen. “My teammate Logan dropped by with a suitcase for you a little while ago. His girlfriend Taylor went to your place with him and packed it for you. She’s an organizational wizard, so I’m sure you’ve got everything you need in there.”

She followed him, took the bag he wheeled toward her. “Thank you. That was thoughtful of them.”

“Welcome. You hungry now?”

“Have you eaten?”

“No. Grilled cheese and tomato soup okay?”

“Sure. I can make it, though.” He’d done enough by bringing her back here, and she didn’t want him going to any more trouble.

He shot her an annoyed look. “I got it. Go sit and watch something. I’ll bring it out in a few minutes.”

There was no point in arguing, so she took the chair beside the sofa and grabbed the remote. The first thing she flipped to was a newscast detailing the explosion. She quickly changed the channel, but the image made her relive everything all over again. Thankfully she found a romcom, watched it while Malcolm moved around the kitchen, though she couldn’t pay much attention to the thin plot when she had so much else on her mind.

Malcolm came in a few minutes later with a plated sandwich and a steaming bowl of soup and set it down on the coffee table in front of her. “Soup’s hot.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, avoiding looking at him as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She waited until he sat down with his own meal before starting.

They ate in silence, the movie the only sound in the room, and soon the growing tension began to grate on her nerves. If she apologized for hurting him when she ended things, would it help, or make things worse?

“Hear anything else from your family?” he finally asked her.

“No. Anything on your end?”

He shook his head, helping himself to the last half of his sandwich. “It’s good that he came to on his own so soon. And he’s got a lot of support to help him through the recovery.”

“I’d like to see him again tomorrow. If it’s not too much trouble,” she added.

“Of course not. I’ll take you over in the morning.”

She let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

He nodded but didn’t look up.

She stared at him from beneath her lashes, her whole chest aching. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.

She held the words back, sensing they would be yet another mistake where he was concerned. But Kevin’s parting words at the office kept coming back to her, haunting her with their truth and multiple meanings about her and Malcolm.

There are no do-overs.

Yeah. Wasn’t that the damn truth. And a helluva bitter pill to swallow.