But he’d fight a little longer. For Gabe.
He closed his camera roll and opened a text window. To Gabe.
Just in case.
Hope you’re having a good night, mon ange,he typed. Love you, son.
If the worst happened, Gabe would figure it out. His son was smart. Hopefully smarter than me.
Rocky dug into his pocket for the small leather pouch that he’d started carrying with him everywhere. He poured the contents into his cupped palm—a paper clip and an unused SIM card. Willing his hands to steady, he popped the SIM card from his phone and did a factory reset, wiping everything stored on the phone’s internal memory.
Then he inserted the new SIM card into his phone and slipped the old one beneath the floor mat at his feet.
Just in case.If he lived to see the morning, he’d fetch the card and put it back, then restore his phone’s memory from the cloud. If he didn’t live to see the morning, he wasn’t making it any easier on them. Whoever “they” were.
Dragging himself from his truck, he forced one foot in front of the other until he was at his own front door. He turned the key in the lock, stepped inside, and had a single moment to register the lack of a barking dog before cold metal pressed against his temple.
Shoulda run.But there was nowhere he could hide, and he found that he didn’t want to.
His only regret was that Gabe would find him.
Gabe would mourn him.
But Gabe would pick himself up and go on, because his son was strong.
“Where is my dog?” Rocky asked quietly. If they’d harmed one hair on his dog’s body...
The thug gave him a shove, remaining silent.
Rocky stumbled forward. “To where?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” another voice called. “Bring him to me.”
Rocky felt a laugh bubbling up from his gut. It came out sounding hysterical. Which was understandable, he supposed. The kitchen was where they’d killed the doctor. “Of course.” It was darkly poetic, in its own way.
He moved stiffly, narrowly missing the rocking chair that Lili had loved so much. He brushed a hand over the smooth wood. Soon, mon petit chou. Soon.
His eyes had adjusted by the time he reached the kitchen and he abruptly stopped at the sight of the man sitting in Lili’s chair at the opposite end of the table from his own place.
Fury bubbled up, replacing the hysterical laughter. Because he recognized the man. He’d never met him in person, but he recognized him all the same.
“Get out of her chair,” Rocky growled, surprising himself with the words. There were so many others that he could have said. That he should have said.
The man simply lifted his brows, black threaded with silver. He looked expensive. He looked like a movie star.
He looked... bored.
Rocky wanted to tear the bastard’s heart out for all that he’d done. For the lives he’d ruined.
For desecrating Lili’s kitchen chair.
“Why are you here?” Rocky demanded.
“Because we’ve come to the end of our dance,” the man drawled. “And I needed to be sure this was done right. Finally. You should have listened, Rocky. You should have backed away years ago.”
“I did.”
“And then you didn’t.” The man studied his nails, then lifted his gaze to Rocky’s. “Sit.”