CHAPTER 36
Luna
It pays to be a sneaky little bitch. I’ve carved this property up with my own secret pathways, back halls, tall hedges and long shadows. Since there are no cameras anywhere, I have to believe no one knows where I am most of the time.
Except now my garage spot is blown because I had started to wonder if maybe Quinn really wasn’t listening into my phone calls after all. Blew my own cover.
Moron!
Oh well. I can’t think about that now as I cross the property using my favorite outdoor paths. I’m not sure I even need to sneak at this point. Everyone is either wasted or trying to figure out why a few dogs, the ones not making the racket, have gone AWOL.
I get close to the ground and stay crouched low in a group of thick bushes.
In the dim light from the mounted flood lights on the back of the house, I can make out Quinn and Mac, Collin, a few other high ranking soldiers.
I’ve memorized their faces, names, and usual duties.
Quinn keeps them close to him most of the time.
He should rotate through his closest guard detail to protect that valuable information, but he doesn’t.
No sign of Z or my people from home. I guess Quinn’s best men don’t get to partake in the…festivities.
Quinn whisper-barks some Irish commands before the men disperse. Mac takes a man, Collin takes two, another pair passes me, heading back to the house and Quinn…goes off alone.
Of course.
Giant idiot.
I follow him, staying in the hedges as much as I can.
Eventually I switch to keeping my distance and lurking behind tree trunk after tree trunk.
We’re heading around one of the bunkhouses where I’ve learned the youngest recruits stay together.
I’m assuming he sent a team on the far side of the building but I can only see Quinn on this side.
And, sure enough, we are not far from that spot I warned him about. The service road.
Quinn follows after one of the dogs who is on the hunt, sniffing something out. I pick up my pace. If I’m seen, fine.
I watch the dog, then Quinn’s exposed side, then the dog. Wait. I realize it when Quinn does. That dog is following a trail of something. Like breadcrumbs purposely meant to lead him to a trap.
Then I see a man, running toward my husband.
“Quinn!” I scream.
The guy turns and I swear he lights up like the flood lamps to our left.
“Look what I have here,” I hear his scratchy, old voice right before he lunges for me. I dart back but trip. Fuck!
The attacker tries to grab me and I see him reach for a weapon at his back. He gets close enough I can see the whites of his eyes and right as he’s about to touch me, I move. Pull, position the blade, drive it up into his stomach.
“Luna!” Quinn roars my name, looking absolutely unhinged. His arms bulge and his thighs flex as he sprints closer, pulling out a gun with one hand and a massive knife with another.
But he can just chill because this fucker is going down. I twist the knife hard and the attacker cries out. Surprise! Not your average little mafia wife, asshole!
He gasps, shocked and angry, and mutters a string of curses. He pulls away like he’s going to run.
But he’s not done.
With a snarl, he twists back and grabs…a blade. It barely flashes in the moonlight before it rips through my side like a comet. It burns.
My scream is more rage than pain because he did not just throw his knife at me!
He smirks before rolling away, clearly in pain. Even so, he ducks under the fence and is lost in shadows faster than I would’ve thought possible. Either he’s a superhero or I’m slowing down.
“Luna!” Quinn reaches me, eyes wild.
My husband is so hot. He has his gun out. Why isn’t he shooting that guy? I should ask him to take me to the gun range. I should ask him to take my virginity. I should ask him to kiss me.
What?
Oh right, I was stabbed. And I’m bleeding fast. Damn it!
“Go,” I say, looking out into the black.
“I’ve got men on that side of the fence already.”
“Oh. Ok.” I lift my hand and see blood. A lot of blood. ”Better call Seamus,” I mumble.
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, but did you see me stab him? He didn’t see that coming.”
Quinn exhales an almost-laugh.
“Couldn’t just stay in your room,” he mutters as he picks me up. He yells at Collin to get a golf cart over here. Collin talks into one of their ancient walkie talkies.
“And miss all the fun?” I manage to say, he curses and rolls his eyes but his mouth twitches too. “Guess I didn’t miss all the fun. We had fun earlier tonight,.” I try to wag my eyebrows I’m not sure I’m succeeding.
“Luna,” he warns. But then he adds, “Keep talking to me. I need you to stay awake.”
“I know how you could keep me awake,” I tease again.
More Irish cursing.
I try to laugh.
But I can’t.
I try to stay awake.
I can’t.
·····
“Quinn?” I hear myself searching for him with my voice and my hands, even though my eyes are still closed. It’s concerning that my half-conscious self asks for him, not Ellie or Z or Papa. Shit, my lids are heavy.
“Right here,” his deep voice replies.
Channeling all my strength to my lashes, I pry my eyes open. Quinn’s frowning down at me, a tired, angry warrior. I’m in his room, his bed, he’s next to me in a normal-sized chair that of course seems too small for him.
“Shouldn’t you be out killing that guy?” I ask.
He grunts, “What guy, there was a guy?”
“Are you…are you trying to joke around with me right now?”
“I’m trying to punish you for doing the exact opposite of what I asked and getting yourself hurt.”
I close my eyes and try to swallow but my mouth is like a desert.
“Here,” he says, handing me a cup of ice water with a straw.
I take a sip and then say, “I can think of better ways you can punish me.”
“Fuck my life,” he sighs.
I laugh and then wince. I look at the light coming through the windows and wonder aloud, “What time is it?”
“Afternoon.” He straightens up in the chair, “And no, before you ride me about my responsibilities, no, I haven’t been here all morning watching you.
But I’m not sure I should leave because the second I do, you’ll be up and crawling through the bushes again.
” I shrug, he glares. His voice is serious as he tries to boss me around, “You have stitches. No crouching or squatting for a while, Luna.”
“I think what you meant to say is good job defending yourself, Luna. Thanks for distracting that guy, Luna. You’re a badass, Lu—”
“You’re reckless! Distracting him? You gave him a fucking prize on a platter!” Marlon squeaks beside me at Quinn’s booming voice. I pick him up and put him on my lap.
“Prize? Me?” I try to interrupt, “Mac’s more of prize, I don’t know jack shit. I’m useless.”
He goes on, “God help me, if you hadn’t stabbed him before he reached you…”
“But I did!” I point out. Quinn runs his hand down his face in frustration but I press him. “Admit it, I did well.”
“If I do, will you promise to stay here for the day?”
“Sure,” I smirk up at him.
“Luna,” he says, his face still looks annoyed but his voice is…different. On the verge of breaking in two. “Listen, I have to go and Sheila can only come by to check on you every hour or so, take Marlon out, get your medicine. I can’t…if you…if you go sneaking and pass out in a bush somewhere, I—”
“Alright, alright, I won’t do any crouching.”
“Mancini, for the love of—”
“Fine! I’ll stay inside the house. Not this bed or this room but in the house. Final offer.” He stands, appeased but still irritated. I try, “Quinn, who was that guy?”
He turns to leave, “A Russian scout. Scoping out the lay of the land probably, much like you warned about on that service road.”
“Huh,” Quinn looks back at me so I add, “That was my theory,” I yawn, “I do get tired of being right all the time.” He relaxes a fraction with his hand on the doorknob, then releases the metal altogether, stalks back to me and kisses my forehead.
It’s a hard, warm press of his perfect lips on my skin and then it’s gone.
“Rest. I’ll be back soon,” he says before the heavy wooden door thuds behind him.
I try to lay back on the pillows but I know I’m not going to get much sleep.
Because I heard my attacker’s voice, his curses that I recognized.
That old man was Irish.
Quinn lied to me. I lied right back.
That is valuable information I gained last night, that one of his own has turned on him. That he hid that truth from me. Not just refused to answer, actually lied to throw me off. And rightfully so. My husband and I are enemies. We are two different clans, basically at war.
Even with the injury, the whole ordeal was a win for me.
So why don’t I feel the least bit victorious?
Because I got emotional?
No. Hormonal.
Started thinking with my vagina.
Embarrassing!
I forgot who I am, what I want. Home. My own famiglia. My throne.
Emotions, hormones, whatever is happening, I have to shut it down.
Except…
Quinn opens up to me more and more by the minute. If I can keep him thinking with his dick, he’ll start to slip up. Sure, sex might be messing with my mind a little bit too.
Fine.
Even if I do think I’m catching feelings, I’m Luna Mancini.
Feelings are not going to derail my plans. I’m going home and I’m getting what’s mine. Marlon looks up at me and I swear he looks skeptical, like he’s trying to say, “I’m not sure you still mean that.”
Yeah. I’m not so sure either.