And with that the line goes dead. I start my drive through the dark and deserted streets of Enchantment.
The three of us devised a plan for taking care of the Senator. He thinks he’s untouchable because of who he is, but he obviously forgot who we are—three men who were handpicked and trained by the government to move under the radar, to strike with silence and leave no traces. Removing threats is what we do. Or used to anyway. And Senator Sims is a threat. A murderer. On his order, lives were taken. All for his own gain. Some for money, as with Assad’s second-in-command, and some to save his own ass, as with Reid and Jasper’s mother. Senselessly, ruthlessly. Criminally. And there are consequences for those kinds of actions.
Even if you’re a sitting senator for the United States of America.
Because of my public association with the Senator and now my association with his son through Katie, I can’t be involved more than getting Calvin to the pickup spot. From there, Jasper and Tag will take care of them. Or, more likely, just Jasper. He’s the only one still in the game. Plus, his mother was killed as a result of all this. We all lost our friend, but he lost even more. And I wouldn’t want to get in the way of his . . . reckoning. It’s the only thing he can do for his mom at this point.
We all have to do what’s best for us, for the people we love, which makes me think of Katie. Again.
She’s chosen to live a quiet life, one as far from violence as she can get, and I feel like I’ve brought everything she’s tried to escape right back to her door. How could I ever ask her to be with me when what I do reminds her of such painful times?
I couldn’t.
I won’t.
But I don’t want to live without her either. I’ve only got one choice as far as I can see, but it’s an easy one when she’s on the other side of it. Nothing is as important to me as Katie, and with Senator Sims out of the way, I’m free to do whatever I have to in order to win her back.
And that’s what I’m going to do.
I dial Johns to let him know that I still plan to fight in Vegas on Sunday.
When the light turns green, I make a hard right to turn into the only gas station in town. I buy a plastic gas can and fill it up before getting back on the road. As I pull out of the lot, I wake my phone and punch in the number of Senator Sims.
“What is it?” comes the gruff voice that says I’m interrupting.
“It’s Rogan,” I announce flatly. Already, satisfaction is unrolling in my stomach, like butterfly wings from a caterpillar’s cocoon. “I’ve got your son in the back of my car. He’s unconscious, and in about fifteen minutes, he’s going to be strapped naked to a tree in a very public park. And then doused in gasoline. I hope you can get here before I put a match to his dick at dawn.”
I hang up and drop my phone in the cup holder, expecting it to ring back any second. And it does. But I ignore it.
I pull into the lot of the park I met Katie at. I figure it’s poetic that he’ll get a little, teeny-tiny bit of what’s coming to him in a place that brings Katie so much joy. I’m not going to burn him alive. That would ruin the plan. I will, however, put the fear of God in him. I will make him sweat, make him wonder. Give him a few hours of pure emotional hell, wondering if he’s going to burn to death, naked in a public park.
I cut the engine and walk around to the back of the vehicle, opening the hatch. Sims is waking up, rolling his head from side to side, moaning. I lean in and punch him in the jaw, putting him out for a few more minutes.
I grab his ankles and haul him toward me with a functional yank. I don’t give a damn what I hurt or how sore this bastard is. The more he hurts, the better.