“The start of one. You and Snow want to help?”
Lucas chuckled darkly and an evil grin spread across his face. “Try to stop us.”Chapter 24Two fucking hours later.
Rowe was ready to murder the first person to look at him wrong and he just hoped it was one of the arsonists making his life hell. The fire department had gotten the fire under control relatively quickly, but the entire house was gone. There was nothing to save.
The police had been intent on questioning both him and Lucas, not that he could really blame them. His house had gone up, two of Lucas’s businesses, another of Rowe’s client’s home and Snow’s old residence. The common link? Ward Security. Or particularly, Rowan Ward.
Thank God Lucas had thought to call Sarah Carlton on his way to Rowe’s. She’d appeared minutes after the cops and had been quick to protect them from any uncomfortable questions. Rowe had to admit that even though he’d always felt uneasy about the lithe blonde shark, he appreciated having her on his side.
But that nonsense was over for now. The cops were following their leads, and he was free to follow what they had without prying eyes. The pre-fab warehouse he had built was in the middle of nowhere in Indiana, about a half-hour drive northwest of Ward Security. But in truth, it wasn’t linked to Ward Security. Hell, he’d been careful to keep it out of his own name. He kept more of his sneaky shit and even some illegal toys out here.
As Lucas parked the Mercedes, Rowe took quick note that not only was his truck present but so were Snow’s Lexus and Ian’s Volt. Didn’t matter. There was only one person in that warehouse that he was interested in laying eyes on.
The main room was brightly lit and open, with ample room to fit a few SUVs in the area, but it was empty except for a small woman tied to a chair and blindfolded. Andrei towered over her, his arms folded over his broad chest, his handsome face a cold mask of rage. The simmering anger wasn’t like Andrei, but then he’d been pretty damn angry ever since Shiver went up in flames, endangering Lucas. The bodyguard wasn’t handling it well.
Snow stood back, his arms wrapped around Jude’s chest. The paramedic didn’t look good, but then the man had been completely straight and narrow before he met Snow. Rowe wished he could have told Snow not to bring his partner or even told Snow not to come, but he knew neither was an option. If Jude was going to make a relationship work with the doc, then he needed to know all of Snow’s past…even the ugly parts. It was just unfortunate that this ugly part kept leaking into the present.
Ian stood alone, his face pale and haunted as he kept his eyes locked on the bound woman. Rowe wanted to ask him about that look, but there was something else he needed to do first if he was going to stop the trembling in his limbs and clear the clutter from his brain.
Noah pushed to his feet from where he’d been sitting on the stairs leading the lone office on the second floor. He was shirtless and his hair was still wet from where he’d washed that accelerant from his hair. Worry cleared from his blue eyes as Rowe drew closer, but his expression was pinched and tense from the cold. There wasn’t much heat to be had in the warehouse.
“Ward,” Snow growled.
“In a minute,” he snapped back, not detouring from his path directly to Noah. He needed to hear his voice, touch him, and reassure himself that Noah was whole and safe.
“Fuck that!”
“Ash!” Lucas’s voice was like a whip crack snapping across the room and for a second, no one breathed. No one could stop a room like Lucas could and Rowe was just glad that it was to his advantage for once. “Give him a minute.”
Rowe cleared his throat, his hands balled into fists at his sides to keep from reaching out to grab Noah. “I think I’ve got a sweatshirt in the office you can wear.”
Noah stepped away from the stairs, letting Rowe lead the way up. “Gotta be warmer than all the Kevlar I found.”
Rowe immediately went to a small closet at the back of the office, shuffling through a couple old black T-shirts until he came to a heavier black sweater he used in some of his secret black ops shit that would send Lucas through the fucking roof if he knew. The sweater would likely fit Noah. The man might have a couple inches on him, but they were about the same width across.
The sound of the door to the office closing caused Rowe’s fingers to tighten in the thick threads before he turned back to find Noah standing on the other side of the small office, staring down at the floor. His wet hair hung forward, hiding most of his face, but Rowe could easily imagine him frowning or chewing on his bottom lip as he carefully weighed his words.