Chapter 28
Quinn
Isat in the living room, aching all over. Warner and Raleigh were on the couch, and Roman was in the armchair across from mine. The news ran quietly on the TV. We’d been glued to the manhunt coverage for Amos. I wasn’t sure what else there was for us to do right now.
August, Reid, and Fox had left almost an hour ago. They wouldn’t have any new information until they reached the safe house and Fox started digging into the security feeds. He was the company’s badass cyber security tech, apparently.
Raleigh sat curled against Warner, Hailey still asleep in her lap. She ran her fingers through the little girl’s dark curls as she stared at the TV with a tired, haunted expression.
I didn’t know how to process any of this.
My upper arms still ached.
I couldn’t believe Preston had thought I’d have something to do with his escape. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. Perhaps he was trying to find a scapegoat for the absolute disaster this all was.
The firm was in a complete meltdown. As far as representing a client went, the worst-case scenario was them breaking out of jail and becoming a fugitive with the nation watching.
For once…I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next.
When a commercial break hit, I pushed myself out of the chair. My muscles were stiff, my mind even worse.
Raleigh’s attention turned my way, and she gave me a soft, exhausted smile. “Going to bed?”
I nodded.
“Try to get some sleep, honey. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, and started toward the staircase.
I meandered down the hallway toward my bedroom on the second floor.
My eyes automatically went to a closed door at the far end.
It was the room Graham was staying in until…
well, until they made the decision it was safe not to anymore.
He’d gone to bed shortly after his brothers had left.
He hadn’t wanted to leave my side after what happened with Preston, but I’d needed some space.
And Roman offered to take the first night shift, so Graham was instructed to get as much sleep as he could, while he could.
It had been Roman who insisted he go up and rest.
A sliver of light seeped from under the gap at the bottom of Graham’s door, and I passed my room without thinking about it, my feet guiding me. I stopped at his room, shifting uncomfortably. There was no sound from inside, but I glanced at the light again.
I had a feeling he was still awake.
Lifting my hand, I hesitated briefly, and rapped my knuckles over the old, scarred wood. It was quiet enough that it shouldn’t have woken him if he was asleep.
There was a pause. I almost stepped away.
“Come in.” His voice was barely audible.
I twisted the knob. It was unlocked.
I slipped inside his room.
He sat in an armchair by the window, a book in his hand, though I don’t think he’d been reading it. His gaze seemed unfocused and far away.
I froze as the door snapped shut behind me.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt.
My mouth went dry. My brain misfired. Heat shot straight through me like I’d stepped into a furnace.
He wasn’t bulky like Roman or August, but he was strong. Lean, sculpted muscle that looked like it had been carved by a literal artist. He was all broad shoulders and defined chest. His arms flexed subtly as his grip tightened on the book.
I swallowed hard and tried not to stare, but failed miserably. He looked…good. Better than good. He looked dangerous in his own, quiet way.
“I—” My voice faltered. I tried again. “I just saw your light on and thought I’d check on you. Before I went to bed.”
He blinked up at me. God, he looked exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too.
He didn’t reach for a shirt. Didn’t seem to care that he was half-naked.
He set the book aside, leaned back in the chair, and looked me over. Slowly.
His gaze dragged down my body, up again, lingering on my face. Then it dropped to my arms, where Preston’s fingerprints were probably turning purple beneath my skin.
Graham’s expression changed. There was heat in the intense way he stared at me, but there was something else too. Devastation. Maybe some anger.
“Come here,” he said quietly.
My breath hitched. “Graham—”
“Please.”
It wasn’t the word that disarmed me, but the way in which he said it. Half command, half raw plea.
I stepped toward him, his eyes tracking everything. When I came close, he stood to meet me, his movement slow and languid. His hair was mussed, like he’d been running his hands through it. The curled, dark strands fell over his forehead.
He reached for me, his fingers curling into the cotton zip-up I’d worn to the bonfire. The bonfire. That seemed like so long ago, instead of mere hours. It felt like everything had changed. Again.
There was a question in his eyes as he dragged his fingertips to the zipper. I didn’t stop him; I didn’t protest as he eased it all the way open. I wore a black tank top underneath.
Graham’s hands skimmed over my collarbones, under the fabric of my hoodie, and he pushed it gently off my shoulders. It fell into a heap on the floor.
I hadn’t checked the marks Preston’s hands had left. I hadn’t seen the bruises that were surely blooming.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Quinn…”
I tried to pull back. “It’s fine—”
“No.” His grip was gentle, but immovable. “It’s not fine.”
His thumb brushed the edge of a bruise. I flinched.
His whole face twisted as though I’d stabbed him.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you.”
I swallowed down the burn in my throat. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I should’ve been outside sooner.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have.” His voice cracked, and something in me cracked with it. “We couldn’t tell how close he was to you because of the angle of the camera. Not until—not until he was shaking you like that.”
He sounded gutted, and I wasn’t sure how to react. “It’s not your fault.”
Graham hung his head, casting his face in shadow. His hand brushed down my arm until his fingers wrapped around my wrist, like he was grounding himself. “I’ve been thinking…I know Preston lives in Cincinnati, but—I’m not sure that Ember Hollow is any safer.”
He trailed off. I stepped closer. “What are you trying to say?”
He still didn’t look at me. “I think it might be best if you went home, Quinn. I can’t guarantee that you’re safe and I—I’m sick and tired of seeing you get hurt.”
His grip tightened on my wrist when I tried to pull away. “You think I should leave? Now?” I wasn’t sure why the thought surprised me. “I have no reason to go home anymore.”
I sounded more sad than I was. I still felt loss.
But the sting and horror of losing my job was slowly ebbing, being shrouded by the immediate gravity of Anderson’s escape.
I’d been working there for so long it had become my identity, but perhaps that had been what was killing me. So slowly I hadn’t even noticed.
“What if I don’t want to leave?”
After a pause, he finally drew his gaze back to mine.
The look in them twisted my gut. “I don’t know what the next few days are going to look like, let alone the coming months.
If they don’t find Amos, I cannot guarantee your safety.
I haven’t been able to keep you safe at all, let alone now. When the danger is at its peak.”
I took a step closer, my stare hard and burrowing into him until he couldn’t deny the words I was about to say.
“It’s not your job to keep me safe. If I get hurt, that doesn’t mean you have failed.” I grabbed hold of his wrist with my free hand, gripping it so tight my knuckles ached.
He didn’t look at me, so I stepped closer until he had no choice but to lift his eyes.
“Graham,” I said, my voice firm with certainty. “You don’t have to protect me from the world. It’s already taken enough from me. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”
His throat bobbed; his pulse hammered under my fingers.
“I can’t stand the thought of someone hurting you,” he said, voice hoarse. “I can’t—” His breath stuttered. “I haven’t been able to breathe since I pulled you away from him. And next time, it could be an even worse monster.”
Tears pricked my eyes.
“Graham,” I whispered. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not.” He shook his head. “You’re trying to be. But you’re not.”
“I didn’t come here because it was safe,” I continued. “I didn’t stay because it was easy. I stayed because I wanted to. Because you matter to me. Because being near you feels like the first right thing I’ve done in a long time.”
His jaw trembled.
“I get to choose where I stand,” I said softly. “And right now, I’m choosing to stand with you. Not because it’s safe…but because you deserve it.”
Graham closed his eyes, jaw clenching.
I slid my hand up his arm, resting it over his heart.
“You don’t have to be my shield,” I whispered.
He opened his eyes, and they looked like fire—blue glowing flames.
“I would be,” he said, voice low and certain. “I would be your shield if you needed me.”
He was still holding on to my wrist too; he lifted it toward his mouth and slowly brushed his lips against the sensitive skin on the inside. He placed a hot, soft kiss there that sent waves of heat rolling over me. His gaze never left mine, and my knees nearly gave out.
“Graham…”
His lips rested there for a second longer, then he let go and reached up, pressing his palm against the side of my face. I leaned into it. I couldn’t stop myself and I didn’t want to.
He inhaled sharply, but it wasn’t laced with devastation this time. It was something hotter.
The air in the room changed. The emotion shifted, tension crackling like invisible sparks of static.
He looked at me like he was standing on the edge of something he couldn’t come back from.
As I stared up at him, I realized I wanted him to fall.