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“I heard you worked for the DEA and quit,” Rowan said after several moments. The change from passion to business surprised him. “I-I guess I’m just curious. What makes you tick.”
She started to move away from him, but he pulled her back close to his side. If she thought she could distance herself from him now, she had another thing coming.
“After five years in Delta Force, I decided I’d had enough and sought one of those cush government jobs.” He tried to laugh, but it fell flat.
“Hmm. And I joined the FBI because I wanted to be Dana Scully.”
A joke? From Rowan? But John didn’t smile. He saw De
“I had an idyllic childhood,” he said after a moment. “A regular Leave It to Beaver house. My dad was a cop, straight as an arrow, honorable. My mom stayed home. Baked cookies, drove us to every activity under the sun, always there to listen. It was a good life. Hell, it was perfect.”
He missed his parents. They’d died less than a year apart. His dad from an unexpected heart attack, his mother-John suspected-from a broken heart. That was three years ago, but it still hurt.
“They’re not around anymore?” Rowan asked softly.
“No.” He cleared his throat, swallowing the sudden sorrow that had crept up. “My best friend was De
“You were the robber?”
“Sometimes. Usually, I found some other role to fill, sometimes siding with Mickey, sometimes with De
De
“De
I have a plan, Joh
“I wanted him to join the Army with me. I enlisted when I was eighteen. Didn’t really care much about going to college, though I did end up there after my five years, courtesy of the GI Bill.”
“Good program.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Well, De
“This big plan of his involved drugs. Big-time.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I didn’t even suspect.” He was still disgusted that he’d been so clueless about his friend’s illegal activities. “We were young, didn’t write back and forth much, e-mail wasn’t around yet. Tess wrote, told me De
“You blame yourself for leaving.”
Of course John blamed himself. Had he stayed in Los Angeles, De
Rowan’s hand roamed his chest. Not in lust, but in understanding. He took it with his free hand and brought it to his lips. She smelled of soap and sex and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but here, with her. Sharing a story he hadn’t shared with anyone, not in any detail.
“I came back to L.A. and started classes at UCLA. Looked up De
Mrs. Schwartz looked tired, worn out, from years of two jobs and raising three kids on her own. “Joh
“I tracked him down through old friends. Right away I knew he was up to something. One of his get-rich-quick schemes. One of his big plans. Of course he didn’t tell me about it. Didn’t clue me in to the fact that he was hawking drugs to high school kids. And younger.” His voice cracked. “No, I had to learn that on my own. When I followed him.”
“I’m so sorry. That must have hurt.”
“No, it didn’t hurt. I was too pissed off for it to hurt. I brought my father down to talk to him, straighten him out, when I couldn’t do it on my own. Dad could do anything. He was that kind of guy. Knew how to talk sense into young punks who thought they knew everything. Punks like De
“De
John watched from his father’s side, positive he could talk sense into De
“Uh, Mr. Fly
He should be afraid, John thought. He was getting kids killed over a temporary high. Using the stuff himself, judging by his ru
“De
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Fly
De
“My father tried. Damn, he tried. I’d never seen him so frustrated. He ended up yelling at De
“It was like he’d betrayed you.”
John squeezed her hand. “Yeah,” he said softly.
“What happened to him?” Rowan asked after a time.
“He was executed.”
He’d spent a week trying to convince De
“It was my fault.”
“How? De
“Neither my dad nor I gave up. One night, the night before De
“I’ll lay it straight for them. It’s not what you think, Joh
“He wanted me out of his life, told me as much. I left. I was hurt and angry and didn’t know what to do. I went back to my dad. That’s when he told me he’d told Narcotics about De
“Pomera,” Rowan muttered, familiar with the name.