Page 74 of Borrowed Pain
When a knock came minutes later, and the lock clicked open, I knew Dorian had called the troops in. Marcus didn't wait for an invitation—he moved through the doorway with a legal pad in his hand.
"What happened?" No hello.
I didn't hold back. "Patricia's in custody. Picked up at the diner. Rowan's twenty minutes out."
Dorian gave Marcus a quick version in fewer words than I'd used, tapping his screen like punctuation.
"Inside source eliminated," Marcus summarized, voice legal-brief crisp. "Chain of evidence now compromised. And Rowan—" he stopped, looking at me— "was alone?"
"Yes," I admitted. "He broke the cooldown."
Marcus scribbled something on his pad. "So we're exposed on two fronts: compromised federal attention and family noncompliance."
"Noncompliance?" Matthew snapped. "He's not an employee. He's—"
"He's in danger," Marcus sharpened his tone. "And dragging Miles there, too."
The door lock disengaged again before I could answer. Rowan stepped through, shoulders hunched, rain plastering hair across his forehead.
Marcus turned on him instantly. "Sit down. Debrief."
Rowan blinked at the command but obeyed, shedding his coat on the back of a chair. His hands were empty except for the drive he set on the table—black plastic, no label.
"They walked in without warning," he said. His voice dropped an octave. "Patricia wasn't surprised. She gave me this, then smiled when they led her out."
"Smiled?" Dorian asked.
"I think it was relief," Rowan said. "I think she'd been carrying the weight too long."
Marcus grunted. "You went rogue and decided to meet her, knowing damn well what it could cost."
Rowan met his stare without blinking. "Yes. Sometimes agreements are luxuries. If I'd waited three days, we'd have nothing."
"And now you've painted a target across your back." Marcus's pen tapped once.
Rowan didn't flinch. He slid the drive closer. "Her son. Not her nephew. And Rook is more than a fugitive. She was protecting her lover."
Matthew finally spoke, his voice cracked with emotion. "She was trying to fight from inside."
"She was trying to love two people in opposite directions," Rowan corrected. "Her son and the man the government wants erased. Neither position is survivable."
Quiet fell over the room. "This proves it's too dangerous," Marcus said finally. "We should end this before federal heat or the adversaries land here."
"And abandon her work?" I asked. "Abandon the people still trapped?"
"It's not abandoning," Marcus said. "It's recognizing operational futility."
Charlie shifted, flicking his ears. Rain tapped against the windows like drumming fingers.
Dorian's voice was calm. "We don't know what's on the drive. Until we do, arguments are premature."
"Fine," Marcus said, making another note. "But I want Michael's eyes on this before anything moves forward."
Rowan leaned back in his chair, rain still clinging to him. I knew we were only in the first round of a tribunal that would keep dragging us back into the witness box until we broke or proved ourselves indispensable.
After one more cycling of the lock, Michael opened the door. Alex followed, rain on his jacket shoulders, one hand steady on the leash of a golden-brown shepherd mix who held back at his heels.
Luna's nose was up, her tail twitching low. Charlie rose immediately, padding over with careful interest, tail wagging in a slow, diplomatic arc. The dogs circled once, sniffing the air. Luna then retreated half a step toward Alex's leg.
