Asher
I don't believe in coincidences, not when it comes to my family.
Ever since Ashton walked through those front doors—free, without so much as a call from our lawyers or a word from the officers we have on payroll—I can't shake the gnawing certainty twisting in my gut. That wasn't our doing. That was someone else pulling strings we didn't know were tangled around us. And there's only one man I can think of who'd care enough to meddle in Rollins affairs without asking: Dean Sawyer.
The three of us know how fast our family usually moves in situations like this. Ashton should've been sitting in a cell until our lawyers applied pressure in the right places. Instead, he came home without a scratch, without delay, and with the look of a man who had walked out on his own terms.
Dean's fingerprints are all over that.
And that's what bothers me, because I don't know what game he's playing.
