“Then, Rogan, please tell me there’s another way. Tell me that he won’t win. I can’t bear to see him hurt you. They’ve taken so much already. From me, from you. I can’t give them anything else.”
His lips spread into a thin, sad smile. “They won’t take anything else from you. You have my word.”
The statement sounds final. Definite.
“Wh-what are you going to do?”
“Something that could make you hate me. Something that you can’t be a part of. But something that has to be finished. The Senator has done things. To you. To me. To the brothers I served with in the Army. We did a lot of covert ops. Things I can’t talk about. Things the Senator shouldn’t have ordered. Now he’s trying to cover his tracks. He’s having people targeted. Assassinated. My people.”
I had no idea that Special Forces meant . . . this. The room has narrowed to a tunnel that extends from Rogan’s eyes to mine and contains only the sound of his voice and the blood rushing behind my ears. Part of me thinks that I should be outraged, shocked. Afraid. But the rest of me . . . most of me . . . wants this, wants to be rid of him for good.
And knowing that Rogan is one of the men who has sacrificed so much for his country, for those he loves, for me . . . well, I could never hate him for that. Only love him more.
As if on cue, my heart swells with it, threatening to rip me open with the pressure of it inside my chest.
“I . . . I could never hate you, Rogan.”
“It would kill me if you did, but I won’t lie to you. I would never disrespect you like that. That’s why I’m telling you. Senator Sims is guilty of war crimes, Katie, and he’ll pay. It’s the way it has to be.”
“And Calvin?”
“I’ve got plans for him, too.”
I nod. I don’t know what else to do. Or to say. I want this. Even though it may not change things between Rogan and me, he’ll be free. And so will I. At least we’ll have that.
He backs away, bending slowly to throw Calvin the Trash over his shoulder and turn back toward the door. Things feel so . . . unfinished between us that I want to ask him to stay. But I know he can’t. And maybe he shouldn’t. But I want him to anyway.
“Rogan?”
He swivels to look back at me, a crooked smile twisting his lips. “I love you, Katie. I think I always have.”
And with that, he walks right out the door and into the night, leaving me staring after, out into the inky darkness.
FORTY-TWO
Rogan
If I’d been a few minutes later, Katie could be dead. She was reliving parts of her worst nightmare, had gotten herself into a shitty mess, for me. She did that all for me. Hating them as she does, hating what I do as she does—as she has every right to—she was considering walking right back into that world to save me. She’d risk everything for me.
I know what I have to do next. What I want to do next. For her. All for her.
After I take care of this piece of shit, I think, throwing Sims’s limp body into the back of my rented SUV and slamming the door shut. After I climb behind the wheel and start the engine, I dial Jasper’s number. He’s at a small airstrip for private planes on the outskirts of Enchantment. We all flew in separately, but our destination (as well as our mission) is the same.
He answers the phone with a question. “Do you have him?”
“I’ve got him. I’ll make the call.”
“Tag just checked in. He’s at the airport.”
“On my way to the location. He’ll be there when you arrive. My flight is booked.”
“I’ll let you know when we’re in the air.”
“I’ll be waiting. Be careful,” I tell him.
“Check.”