Chapter 10
Reid
Shafts of sunlight filter through the cabin’s windows and stretch across the oak table. The days are getting longer and warmer, but that’s not the only thing heating up. The atmosphere in the crowded space I’m currently calling home is tense.
“Do you think Ilya’s going to retaliate?” I ask Ash.
My big brother is sitting opposite, shadows under his eyes. He’d driven through the night to get here, and has said little since his arrival. His grave expression has been a permanent feature, and he’s yet to voice his thoughts on last night’s fuck-up.
“It’s not a question of if he retaliates, but when,” Mace interjects. “The extra team Ilya sent to the estate were in and out within an hour, which means they didn’t need to work too hard to find the bodies and establish the hit came from outside. They’ll know it’s us.”
His mood has been easier to read. He’d made a few crude comments about my talk with Quinn after we got back from our failed mission, but he’d spent most of the early hours working on his laptop. He’s worried, and that only adds to my anxiety.
“And since they didn’t try to speak to Quinn,” Ash adds, “it’s safe to assume they don’t suspect her involvement. She’s safe for now, but we’re not. From now on, we take every precaution.”
Which was why Ash had driven rather than flown, to avoid being noticed. There was never a question of Hunter coming too. Someone needs to be in Chicago in case the first strike is closer to home and the people we love.
“And while I don’t mind taking the heat away from Quinn,” he continues, “she’s still a problem we need to contain before she makes matters worse.”
I lean forward in my seat. “You can’t blame her for what happened. She’ll do anything to get her sister back.”
“I don’t blame her, Reid. If anything, I admire her for what she’s doing,” Ash says. “But we have to be realistic. A year would be a long time for her sister to survive in Ilya’s depraved world. Quinn isn’t going to find the answers she wants, no matter how close she gets to him.”
I’d already reached the same conclusion, but it’s hard hearing Ash confirm it. “Do I tell her that her sister’s probably dead?”
“She’s smart,” he says. “She’ll have figured that out for herself. But even if we could convince her that the search is futile, it could make Quinn more volatile. If it’s revenge she decides to seek, she’s liable to take more risks.”
“Do you think I should have made her leave last night?” I ask. It’s a question I’ve been torturing myself with for hours.
“Not by force. But we do need to find a way to protect her from herself. After last night, we owe her for saving your ass.”
“Technically, it was Quinn who created the situation in the first place,” Mace reminds us. “Reid was trying to stop her from walking straight into a viper’s nest.” He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Oh, sorry. Quinn’s the little viper, isn’t she?”
So much for thinking he was too focused to bother with jibes. “You were listening?”
“Wherever you stuck your earpiece, the microphone still picked up more than I was comfortable hearing.”
“You could have switched it off.”
“No need to blush,” he says. “I only tuned in for the finale, and I made sure the others didn’t overhear. Good thinking by the way.”
My neck cords. I know he’ll have a punchline prepared, but I ask anyway. “What?”
“Keeping her mouth full so she couldn’t scream when she came.”
I scan the table for something to throw at him, but it’s clear except for our coffee cups.
And since I’m the one living here for the foreseeable future, I don’t want to make a mess.
I’m about to hit him with an expletive instead when I catch Ash’s expression.
He has a ghost of a smile, which makes Mace’s teasing almost worth it. The tension in the room eases.
“I’d feel better if I knew more about her,” Ash says. He gives Mace a warning glare in case our brother was tempted to make another derogatory remark. “Clearly she can handle a gun.”
“It was a clean shot,” Mace tells him. “She could be a fucking serial killer for all we know. Judging by the fading lump on Reid’s head, she has a predilection for violence.” His gaze flicks to me. “And you still haven’t explained exactly when she put a gun to your cock.”
I’m shaking my head. “I know you’re determined not to trust her, Mace, but this was her first kill.”
“She didn’t seem that fazed after taking the shot last night.”
A shadow crosses the room as one of our men walks past the window. We’ve tripled our security, and the small group of cabins we’ve taken over are going to be patrolled around the clock from now on.
Ash heaves out a sigh. “It could be delayed shock. We need to know how she’s coping this morning,” he says. “If her nerves are showing when Ilya’s men return to question her, she could give away her guilt without even opening her mouth.”
I check my phone. I’ve sent Quinn numerous messages, but she hasn’t replied.
I’m desperate to know if she’s OK, but I’m starting to wonder if she gave me a real number.
And while I don’t want to put her at risk by returning to the estate, if she doesn’t get back in touch soon, I’ll climb through her window if I have to.
I’m not relegating Quinn to my fantasies just yet.
I want to make more memories with her, not relive them.
“I’m going to call her.”
“Wait,” Ash says, stopping me before I can stand. “This is a call we should all be on. If Quinn’s spiraling, we need to reassure her that she has our full backing. I don’t want to waste time and resources reacting to Ilya’s attacks and Quinn’s panicked counter moves. We call the shots.”
I’m not keen to have a group discussion, but Ash is right as always. “OK, but only if Mace keeps his smart mouth shut.”
Mace doesn’t look up from his phone. “Barrett’s still in New York,” he says, not even bothering to acknowledge my warning.
“Ilya is god knows where, but I can’t see any red flags to suggest he’s on his way to Poulton Springs.
And our scouts have reported no new activity at the estate.
” He looks at me and smiles. “You’re good to go. She should be home.”
I take a breath to steady my nerves. Despite the chaos unfolding around us, I suddenly feel like a kid about to call up his girl after their first kiss. And I’m doing it with an audience. I hit dial and put the call on speaker. It rings out.
“It’s a burner so she’ll have it on mute. She may not even have it on her if–”
“I hope there’s a reason for this call,” Quinn says, her voice cold and clear. “Because if you just want to know the color of my underwear, I’m changing my number. I’ve got better things to do than whisper sweet nothings in your ear, Reid.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Mace beats me to it. “We actually laid bets. I said red, Ash thinks they’re black, and for some reason Reid opted for virgin white.”
“Mace, for pity’s sake,” I say, sinking my head into my hands. I can feel the withering glare Quinn is inflicting on her phone right now. This isn’t going to go well.
“Oh, great. We have the whole boyband.”
“Not quite,” Ash says. He has that almost-smile again.
“Hunter couldn’t make it. And I’m the one who wanted to speak to you, Quinn.
You have my word that Mace’s only contribution to the discussion from this point onwards will be to advise on practicalities.
” He holds Mace’s eye long enough for the message to sink in before continuing. “I’m Ash. Pleased to meet you.”
“Do you want to tell me what this is about?”
Ash runs a hand over his beard and his expression becomes more serious. I guess now he knows that Quinn isn’t the type to hide under the bed quaking. If she has been affected by the life she took, she isn’t letting it cloud her focus.
“Here’s the thing,” Ash begins. “We both know Ilya is the lowest form of scum. You have your reasons for hunting him down, and we have ours. And to be clear, we’re not planning a takedown for our benefit, or the McConkeys.
Our only vested interest, for want of a better phrase, is the fuckwit my mother spawned. ”
“Is that any way to talk about Mace?” Quinn says. She clears her throat. “Sorry, go on.”
Mace and I share a look. He’s trying to look offended, but if there’s one way to earn Mace’s respect, it’s by insulting him.
“Barrett seems to be under the illusion that he can simply turn a blind eye to what Ilya plans to use the estate for, and that will keep him safe,” Ash continues. “It won’t. Ilya doesn’t do deals unless they’re heavily weighted in his favor, and he’s not the type to keep promises.”
I shift in my seat. This is a warning for Quinn without Ash telling her explicitly what she should or shouldn’t do. He’s right to assume she wouldn’t take kindly to being lectured.
“You know why I’m going after him?” she asks.
“I told them about Blake,” I confirm.
“Then you’ll understand why I won’t back down, if that’s what you’re about to suggest.”
Ash stares into the middle distance as he reorders his thoughts. “It was an option I hoped you’d consider, but I’m not surprised by your determination to see this through. You got yourself this far.”
“I did.”
“And you saved my brother’s life along the way. We owe you, and if we can help, we will.”
“Good,” Quinn replies. “So, do you want to tell me what your plan of attack is?”
“No. But I am willing to work around you,” Ash says. “If you can agree to work around us.”
“And what does that mean?”
“How about we try a coordinated approach?” he suggests. “The one thing Ilya is good at, is sneaking under the radar.”
“You want me to be your informer?”
“We share information,” Ash corrects.
“Then go ahead,” Quinn says. “Start sharing, Ash.”