Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
QUINN
We share a lot in the time it takes us to travel from Columbia to a tiny speck on the map in Colorado.
Any worry I had, they listened to. More importantly, they heard what I was saying. They offered their perspectives before giving me the space to draw my own conclusions, all without blinding me with their scents.
As the plane landed on a private airstrip a short drive from Deena’s house, it wasn’t fear of what we were facing; it was worry that we were too late.
We were busting to get off the plane. Our bond was rippling with tension, but it was also chock-full of confidence too. Roshka and Nalla were under the influence of our emotions.
“I don’t mean to pressure you.” Aleksei’s voice is low and deep, matching the rising snarls of warning from the dogs.
I bury my hand in Roshka’s fur, hoping it stops him from biting the legs of our flight attendant. “You can hold on for a few more minutes.”
Nalla swings around and glares at me, but she does that a lot.
“He’s all yours, Nalla.”
At least me having a little dominance over her means the flight attendant can finish unlocking the door and deploying the steps without the risk of getting a nip on the butt by the big hairy bitch.
The woman isn’t stupid. As soon as the steps are down, she moves out of the way with a professional smile hiding how she really feels.
The dogs take off like rockets, chasing the confinement of the flight and the rising turbulence of our pack, burning it from their system. We use the time to pack our luggage, splitting it between the two SUVs that Aleksei arranged.
The more time we spend together, the more I see the pure goodness that Aleksei hides.
He is an Alpha driven by a deep need of caring for others.
The further we are from Russia, the more obvious that trait is, along with his very dominant nature.
I’m aware that I’m one of only a handful of people to know the real Aleksei, and I feel sorry for those who don’t and never will.
“Maya, stop fucking looking googly-eyed at me and get in the car. You’re out in the goddamn open. We talked about this,” he growls, as he waits at the driver's door of one of the SUVs.
I step in close, and he snatches me off my feet, helping me climb into the SUV. He pulls over the seat belt, securing me without looking at me.
And I know we talked and made decisions about how we approach this, but I also know if he had it his way entirely, he’d be driving a fleet of tanks down the long driveway to Deena’s.
“If you are hurt, maya, I will be very angry. And I will have to punish you.”
I laugh while catching his retreating form by hooking a hand around his neck and pulling him down to me.
I scratch my nails over the back of his neck and kiss him senseless.
He pulls away to stare me down. His eyes say a hundred, perhaps a thousand, words, and he makes sure I understand everything in them, despite him not making a sound. And then he walks away.
I watch from my spot in the drivers seat, using the rearview mirror, as Aleksei climbs into the back of the second vehicle.
Roshka and Nalla sit next to him. He’s not happy I’m driving by myself, and honestly, neither are Kade or Santiago, but it’s the most sensible for me to go last. And we need two vehicles to whisk Marco and Deena away.
I start to drive off, following the route we plotted, once the pilot had advised where we were landing. I usually drive in from the opposite side of town, but the roads are still familiar.
“Breathe,” I school myself as I pass the small Chinese takeout place that makes the egg drop soup. It’s closed now, like the garden shop next to it and the bakery across the road. The whole town is closed.
Taking the last turn home, I take my foot off the accelerator, dealing with an influx of nerves and anxiety.
I dial Santiago’s phone, and he answers before the second ring. “Bebe, we’re right here with you.”
I breathe through the onslaught of comfort bursting through our bond.
And I marvel at the way my pack is chasing away the trepidation of the crap we’re about to face.
Logically, I know my fears are going to intensify the closer I get, but at the same time, the reprieve from my pack keeps me from blowing things out of proportion.
“The house is in view,” I say, keeping the speed on the slower side, my lights off. I know this road like the back of my hand. I memorized so much of this property before leaving for Russia, not knowing if I’d see it again.
“We’ve arrived and are in position. Hold on for a few more moments and keep rolling slowly forward.”
The call cuts off as the gate comes into view. Without revving the engine, I steer off the road using the momentum to pull the car around and park with my nose facing the direction I came.
As I open the door, anticipation burns exactly like in a horror movie. Leaving the door open, I reach back through to the passenger seat and grab the rudimentary first-aid kit we pulled together after going through the private jet.
In the distance, a dog barks, and it’s the signal I was waiting for.
This cloak-and-dagger approach might be unnecessary, but I’m not about to risk Marco and Deena by my rushing in first. The men Victor sent here would be strong and violent.
He probably sent Pedro, knowing how much I hate and fear him.
Pedro has always had a nasty fixation on causing me grief.
We’d never gotten to the pain part of that, but it simmered each time we were in the same space.
I’m not here to take down people; that’s what my pack is for. I’m only here for Marco and Deena.
I’d put money on Victor expecting me to go after him.
The game, from his point of view, only ever had two players.
The man is a complete idiot if he thinks he’s the most important piece in all this.
Then again, Victor’s ego and his over-inflated self-importance is what started this.
It’s why I’m here, and not knocking on his apartment door at Prostasia.
I’m not a religious person, in any sense, but I close my eyes and take a series of long deep breaths, hoping like a motherfucker while I wait for my pack to storm the house.
I’m far enough from the house that I can’t hear what’s going on.
Occasionally, there are flashes of lights from inside as they walk through the property room by room.
My heart beats louder than the cicadas, and time does strange things while I wait.
It feels like a very long time before I hear one of the dogs barking and Santiago yelling my name.
The sound of alarm in Santiago’s voice is like kerosene, flaming my fears.
I take off, sprinting down the driveway, the darkness and my panic feeding a sense of blindness.
As soon as I see the front door wide open, I seize control of my emotions and feel the shift as my brain switches to doctor mode.
Process overrides panic, and anxiety flitters away under the weight of skill and knowledge.
Slowing my pace, I’m nearly blinded when every light inside the house blinks on.
“Electricity is back up,” Santiago yells unnecessarily from the basement.
And I hear him, I could feel him approach, and if I waited a handful of seconds, I would have seen him, but at the same time I’m seeing Deena’s body.
“Move her to the spare room,” I say stoically, racing ahead of Kade and pulling a fresh towel from the linen closet before he’s managed to lift her.
Her awareness is slowly trickling away. As soon as he has her on the bed, I hand him a pair of scissors. “Cut away her clothing.”
I step past him, moving up to her face. “Deena, it’s me.”
When she doesn’t respond, I try again. She’s in shock and, no doubt, a lot of pain. She’s been beaten horribly. Her face is already bruising, one of her eyes swelling.
“Deena, it’s Quinn. You’re going to be okay.” I lean in closer, brushing the hair off her face. “Where’s Marco?”
If he’s not next to her, and the others aren’t back with him, it’s not hard to assume he’s missing.
“Deena, it’s Quinn. Where’s Marco?”
I’ll say it a thousand times to get through if I need to.
“Deena,” I start again, and I see her pupils dilate at my voice.
She struggles to right herself, fighting through the pain and adrenaline. Her movements are jerky, her brain not quite registering what is right in front of her.
“I’m here.”
Her mouth moves, but her voice is a whisper. I lean down closer, and as her focus returns, she tries again. “Quinn.”
“Yes. It’s me. You’re hurt. We’re at the house still. Do you know where Marco is?”
She tries to speak, a soft groan stealing her words as Kade works on cutting her clothes free.
“Where’s Marco?”
“Practiced,” she whispers, the volume of her voice becoming softer and softer. “Like we practiced.”
Her eyes flutter to a close as she succumbs to her pain and trauma.
“I know where Marco is.” I turn from her face, starting to assess her injuries.
“Where, Quinny?” Kade stands facing me, the scissors in his hand and raging determination etched on his features.
“We built a hideout. It’s basic.”
“Where?”
“Due east from the front door. As straight as a crow flies, nestled against our fence boundary, there’s a huge ponderosa pine. The hideaway is opposite.”
He takes off. I want to chase after him, and I will once I confirm Deena isn’t dying on me.
Kade and Santiago exchange a handful of words before Kade reappears next to me. “I’ll get some hot water,” he offers before I can ask.
“There’s an emergency kit on the top shelf in the kitchen cupboard.”
He races away, and by the time he’s back, I’ve already taken stock of Deena’s injuries. Her wrist is either fractured or broken, and I suspect her collarbone is too. That can all be set, but first I need to attend to the gashes on her side.
“Help me roll her so I can check her back,” I direct Kade, and he jumps into action.