Chapter 8 #2
I have to keep walking, but her flashlight is blinding me. I pull off my goggles, and blink hard against the sting of light. I need to see that look of recognition on Quinn’s face, but my vision is too slow to clear. I hear the unmistakable click of her gun’s safety catch being released.
What if she hasn’t recognized me yet? What if she has and she’s going to shoot anyway?
Quinn had promised to pull the trigger the next time I came after her.
And now that I’m armed too, she might think she needs to defend herself.
She won’t know that my gun is next to useless.
Even if I could see clear enough to aim, I’m not going to shoot Quinn. I won’t do it.
“Quinn, it’s me,” I say in a loud whisper.
Mace barks an order in my ear.
“Reid, drop to the ground! Now!”
I react without thinking because Mace might be a pain in the butt, but I grew up being bossed around by all my brothers. When Mace uses a certain tone, I don’t question him. I drop down and bury my face in rotten leaves as a shot rings out.
My heart punches out through my chest. Did Quinn fire and miss? Or have I been shot and the pain hasn’t registered yet? Or…?
The other alternative is too horrifying to consider. Did the shot come from another direction? Has my brother just taken out the woman I’ve been falling for?
I spit out earthy mulch as I lift my head.
Quinn stands in the same spot. She’s alive, but her flashlight slips from her fingers and lands at her feet.
It still provides enough illumination for me to see her hand shaking as she keeps hold of her gun.
Her eyes shimmer and her breath comes out in short gasps as she lowers her arm.
It looks like she’s aiming down at my prone body, but Quinn isn’t looking at me. She’s staring at a spot beyond.
A second later, a pinprick of light settles on her torso. The red dot over her heart tells me a marksman has her in his sights.
I don’t know if it’s Mace or the Russians taking aim, but I leap to my feet.
“Stay down, Reid. I’ve got this,” Mace growls.
Fuck. Fuck. My brother’s the sniper.
“She isn’t aiming at me!” I yell so loud it rips at my vocal cords.
Quinn catches sight of the red dot on her chest and lets out a whimper.
“Drop the gun, Quinn,” I plead as my strides eat up the distance between us.
I need to put myself between her and the line of fire, but I can’t get there in time. Another shot rings out, and it’s a sob that tears from my throat this time. I reach her too late.
Quinn drops the gun and it lands in the mulched earth with a heavy thud. I look for the blood blooming in her chest, but it’s too dark and she’s wearing a black sweater. I don’t think I see an entry wound.
“I’ve taken out one of Ilya’s men,” Jake says in my earpiece.
That was the gunshot. Quinn’s OK. We’re going to be OK.
“The other one’s behind Reid,” Levi says. “He’s either dead or injured.”
I spin fast, raising my gun and using my body to shield Quinn. There’s no hesitation this time. I’ll shoot anyone to protect her.
My gun sweeps from side to side as I seek out my target, but without my night vision, I can’t make sense of the shadows in the moonlight. I settle on a patch of earth that’s darker than the rest. I can’t tell if it’s a fallen log or a body.
Mace appears from the left and approaches the dark mound. “The second Russian’s down,” he says. He inspects the body with a kick. “He’s dead.”
A twig snaps as Quinn moves closer to me. Her arms wrap around my chest, and the scent of rose envelopes me. She rests her head on my back and I groan on an exhale. She’s holding onto me. Willingly.
Mace moves towards us, pulling off his goggles. “What a fucking shit show.”
“Who took the first shot?” Jake asks as he emerges from the opposite side of the woods.
Quinn clears her throat. “I did,” she says, loosening her grip and stepping around me. “I saw Reid and recognized him immediately because…” Her lip trembles into a smile when she glances at me. “I just can. The Russian appeared out of nowhere. He was about to shoot him.”
Holstering my gun, I tuck Quinn into my side before she gets any ideas about keeping her distance. “Thank you.”
Mace stalks closer. “Hello, Quinn,” he says, tilting his head as he scrutinizes her. “It looks like you saved my brother’s life.” He sounds more irritated than grateful. It’s as if he doesn’t want to let go of his mistrust. I could punch him.
Quinn tenses, but her voice is steady when she says, “I presume it was you who had me in your sights. That’s some way of thanking me.”
“You lowered your aim to Reid. It looked like you were going to shoot him next. What was I supposed to do?”
Jake wanders over to the man she killed. “It’s a clean shot to the head. Impressive. Killed before?”
I can hear the swallow Quinn needs before answering. “No.”
“But someone trained you well. Care to tell us who?” asks my brother.
“Enough, Mace,” I warn. “I came here to talk to Quinn on my own. This isn’t an interrogation, so fuck off.”
“I can’t exactly do that because now we have one hell of problem to clean up,” he says.
“Killing Ilya’s men is nothing short of an act of war.
There’s no point hiding the bodies, Ilya isn’t going to simply assume two of his men took an unauthorized vacation.
He’ll want to know who did it.” I don’t like the way he’s looking at Quinn.
She’s going to be the Russian’s prime suspect.
“What do we do?” I ask.
Mace checks the ground around us, and picks up Quinn’s gun. “We make it so Quinn was never here, but we were. But first I need to speak to Ash.”
“OK. You and Jake do that, and I’ll stay here with Quinn.”
My brother holds my stare. “Fine.”
He’s about to walk away when Quinn reaches for the gun he’s holding. “That belongs to me.”
“I don’t think so,” he says, shoving it into his pocket.
“You can’t take my goddamn gun,” Quinn hisses, pulling away from me.
I yank her back. “You don’t need a gun because you won’t be staying here. Those two guys were planning on returning to the house for you, Quinn. You’re not safe, not now.”
“I can look after myself.”
“Not against the fucking Bratva. You of all people know how little respect they have for women.”
“Anyone else feel like they’re intruding on a domestic?” Jake mutters.
I ignore him. And my brother. Quinn’s obstinacy is infuriating, and it gets the better of me. “They called you Barrett’s whore, Quinn!”
She flinches. “Are you sure that’s what they called me? Because it sounds awfully close to how you described me the other night.”
“I’m not listening to this. The discussion’s over. You’re coming with me.”
Quinn reacts fast, too fast for me to deflect the punch she lands on my cheek. “The hell I am!”
“Ow! Jesus, Quinn,” I yelp. “Do you have to hit me every time we meet?”
“Count yourself lucky I didn’t blow your cock off like I should have done the other night!”
Mace snorts a laugh. “Too much information.”
Quinn pulls back her fist again, turning her venom on my brother. “With my gun, asshole!”
“Sounds like your mouth might be more lethal,” he counters, still smirking.
While she’s distracted, I grab hold of Quinn’s wrists, then turn to my brother. “Mace, can you just fuck off? I’ve got this.”
Quinn kicks me in the shin. “Why don’t you go with him?” she hisses as she tries to tug her hands free from my grasp. “How many more times do I have to say this, Reid? Leave me the hell alone! All of you! Just go!”
Jake scratches his chin absentmindedly, actively ignoring the writhing viper I’m struggling to contain. “Come on, Mace. We’ll take the bodies back to the stables and make that call.”
To the sound of one of those dead bodies being dragged through the undergrowth, I walk my captive backwards until she’s pinned against a tree trunk.
The adrenaline that’s been holding me together for the last few minutes evaporates with my next exhale.
She was almost killed. I was almost killed, and she saved me.
Quinn Jamieson, or whatever her name is, saved my life.
“Please,” I beg her. “Don’t make me leave you here.”