Maximum Risk (8 page)

No sound came from behind the closed door of Avery’s room. He paused outside, hand poised to knock, then thought better of it and walked away. As he passed the bathroom he glanced in to see it was just as he’d left it. The shower hadn’t been used and no towels were missing.

He stopped and leaned back against the door to stare at the dry tub. Exhaustion tugged at him. A headache hammered at his temples. Did he blame Avery for not making herself at home? Hell, he’d been nothing but a jerk to her. She had her own hell to deal with. She didn’t need him adding to it.

If only he could go back.

“Quinn?”

His head snapped up to see Avery standing in the hall looking at him. She still wore his shirt stained with his brother’s blood, her face pulled tight with strain.

Damn. He’d forgotten she had no belongings. Everything had been destroyed in the raid.

“Shit. Avery. I’m sorry. Wait here.” He took the stairs two at a time up to the loft, dug a t-shirt, pair of jogging pants, and socks out of his dresser and handed them to Avery, who stood right where he’d left her.

She stared at them for a second before accepting. “Thanks. Actually, I need to use a phone. Make flight arrangements.”

He hadn’t offered her a phone to call her fiancé because of the danger she was in. Quinn tamped down the perverse pleasure he got in that. He needed to get his head on straight before he did something stupid. Jeopardized another life.

Sobered, he glanced at her. Right now she didn’t look like she could handle any more stress. When she found out she might be in danger and had to remain under his protection, it would only make matters worse.

“We need to talk. Later. Right now I have to go to my parents’ house.”

He walked past her into the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. Kicking the door shut, he held one out to her. She accepted and twisted the cap off with a shaky hand.

The band around his chest pulled tighter. “Will you be all right here alone for an hour?”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a self-deprecating smile. “Yes.”

Quinn didn’t miss the spark of fear that flickered through her eyes or the way she wrapped her arms around herself, which prompted him to say, “You can come along.”

Her head lifted. “I shouldn’t.”

Wouldn’t make things any easier, but it wasn’t fair to expect her to be alone after what she’d been through.

“There’s time if you want to shower.”

She looked down at her borrowed clothes as if seeing them for the first time. “I’ll just change quick.”

He frowned at her retreating back. Minutes later she reappeared, her hair brushed in soft waves down her back. His pants were baggy on her and his t-shirt covered her bruises to her elbows. The socks covered her feet, offering a little cushion, but not much. But she didn’t complain. Not that he expected her to. She hadn’t uttered one word of complaint since he’d met her.

With dread riding his exhaustion, he led her outside. They drove in silence around the lake to his parents’ house. It only took a couple minutes, but felt like an eternity.

Chris’s Harley sat in the drive next to Nate’s Jeep. Kell rarely drove, preferring to go on foot instead of drive the brand new H2 parked at his house. Bailey’s convertible sat in front of the garage and Ryan’s sedan next to it.

Everyone was here.

Quinn pulled in beside Chris’s bike and turned off the engine. The moment of truth upon them.

His chest heaved.

A hand touched his where he gripped the wheel. “Quinn?”

Avery’s voice penetrated the ringing in his ears, propelled him out of the truck. Rigid, he strode toward the house, heard the soft click of a door as Avery followed. He crossed the low deck and pushed through the door.

Everyone he loved in the world turned at his abrupt entrance and he knew they would never look at him the same again. After tonight they would always be reminded of what he’d done.

His mother came forward, a questioning smile on her lips. “Quinn, dear?” She leaned in for a kiss. “Is Ryan with you?”

Quinn stopped her before she could deliver, holding her at arm’s length. His mother frowned until she looked in his eyes, then the color drained from her face.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Oh God, no.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” He spoke past the lump in his throat.

Everything he knew fell apart after that. His mother let out an anguished cry. His dad caught her when her knees buckled.

“What…” Dani asked, watching. Her gaze riveted on him. “Quinn? Where’s Ryan?”

He lifted his chin then shook his head and demolished what was left of his world.

****

From the doorway Avery watched a pretty young woman walk up to Quinn and slap him across the face. The sound echoed through the silent room and Avery flinched. The woman stepped back, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You promised,” she said in a broken whisper.

Avery waited for Quinn to defend himself, to tell this woman that she was the reason Ryan was gone, not him. But Quinn only stood there, shoulders heavy beneath the burden he carried, head held high. A red handprint colored his cheek, vivid where the color leached away. He looked so proud, so strong, bearing the burden of his brother’s death, holding it so no one else had to.

Avery shook her head, willing him to do something. Tell them the truth. Put the blame on her. But he stood there, tall and proud, accepting her fate.

No one noticed her lurking in the doorway and her legs wouldn’t carry her into the room to do what Quinn couldn’t. Why wasn’t he defending himself?

A man, dark-haired, smaller in stature than Quinn, but with the same strong, stubborn jaw, wrapped an arm around the woman and steered her away. He spoke quietly to her and she went willingly, her shoulders wracked with grief. The blond woman who shared Quinn’s eyes held tight to the burly man who wrapped her in his arms. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt where her tears fell silently. Avery saw tears shining in the big man’s eyes, but he didn’t let them fall.

Her gaze flew to Kell, standing alone across the room, his face a hard mask. His eyes met hers, seeing her for the first time, and she silently pleaded with him not to let Quinn do this. Kell simply shook his head.

A striking blond woman crossed the room from where she had been hanging in the background and wrapped herself around the woman Avery could only assume was her mother. The same tall, slender figure and hair color.

The man who’d slammed a fist on the hood of the classic muscle car stood off to the side, face pulled tight as he watched the two blondes. Yet another dark-haired man watched rigidly from his position by the fireplace. A muscle jumped along his stubbled jaw.

And in the middle of the nightmare stood Quinn, rigid beneath the weight he carried on his broad shoulders. Alone.

Anger built in Avery’s chest as her gaze bounced from one to the other. She burst forward into the room and planted herself in front of Quinn, startling those that hadn’t seen her. “What is wrong with you people?” she demanded her voice shrill. “How can you let him do this? Ryan’s death is not his fault! It’s mine!”

Nine pairs of eyes turned to her and she continued, addressing all of them. “Don’t you dare lay this on Quinn. He didn’t—”

Quinn grabbed her arm and she spun to glare at him.

“Enough, Avery,” he growled.

She yanked her arm free. “No, Quinn. I have to do this.”

He leaned in to pin her with a hard stare. “No. You don’t.”

Deep-seated pain shown in his eyes, despite his anger. She had to do this. If they wouldn’t fight for him, she would.

Another hand landed on her arm and spun her around. Facing the young woman who’d slapped Quinn, Avery stared into her red-rimmed hazel eyes. Her nails dug painfully into Avery’s arm.

“You got my fiancé killed?” she spat.

Avery lifted her chin.
Dani
. Oh, God. “I’m sorry.”

What color remained in the woman’s face drained away and Avery hated herself for causing Ryan’s fiancée more pain.

Quinn stepped in, reaching for Dani’s hand. “Dani, don’t—”

Dani launched herself at Avery. Her nails raked her face.
“You got my Ryan killed, you—”

Kell pulled Dani off. Avery clamped a hand over her stinging cheek, tears floating in her eyes. She refused to let them fall in front of these people. They didn’t need her tears. Didn’t deserve them.

Quinn glared at her even as he blocked her with his body. Refusing to let him shoulder any more blame, she stepped around his arm, dodging his hand when he reached for her. Addressing the room she said, “I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.”

Then on legs that shook, she turned and walked past Quinn out the door. The instant her feet touched the deck a sob escaped her lips and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Pain built in her chest as she looked around for somewhere to go. She ran to the end of the deck only to see a navy blue lake behind the house.

Trapped, she spun around and jumped the foot to the ground, cried out on impact, and ran toward Quinn’s truck, ignoring the ache in her feet. Desperate for escape, she scrambled into the driver’s seat and slammed the door closed. With a shaky hand she found the keys in the ignition.

“Thank God,” she breathed through the hysteria rising in her throat, and turned the key, bringing the powerful engine to life. After throwing the big truck into reverse she stomped on the gas. Someone shouted her name. She changed gears and flew down the driveway, blinded by tears she never shed.

She swiped them away with the back of her hand, then gripped the wheel, and pushed the gas pedal down. The truck shot forward, fishtailing on the gravel road. She never should have gone with Quinn. Never should have gone to Azbakastan. If she hadn’t, Ryan would be alive, her friends would be alive, and none of them would be suffering.

More tears streamed down her cheeks as she took a hard right, remembering the route Quinn had taken. Everything was wrong. She shouldn’t be here.

Gut-wrenching sobs choked her as she brought the truck to a skidding stop in front of Quinn’s house. She fumbled with the door handle and nearly fell on her face when it opened. Leaving the door wide open, she ran into the house and straight to her bedroom where she slammed the door. Quinn’s borrowed bloody shirt lay on the floor, tainted with Ryan’s blood. Her own blood.

Memories of what they’d done to her flooded in. The pain. Her screams. The times she couldn’t scream. The missile hitting the Land Cruiser. Scott taking a bullet.

Oh God.

Unable to process, Avery pummeled the fabric with her fists. Over and over she swung until the pain in her arms overshadowed the pain in her heart.

A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, picked her up off the ground and swung her away from the bed. Still aching inside, she kicked and fought to be free. The arms held tight, body taut.

“Let me go.” Her heel landed a blow and sent a jolt of pain up her leg, which only frustrated her more.

“Avery, stop.”

Quinn’s gruff command penetrated the emotions pounding inside her. Avery deflated like a balloon and slumped in his arms, chest heaving. Quinn’s chin touched the top of her head, his chest rising and falling in sequence with hers. He still hadn’t put her down; her feet dangled off the ground. The way he held her, tucked against him, made her heart ache even more. Almost as if he couldn’t let her go.

For just a moment she allowed herself to lean on him, letting him hold her close until it felt like they were fused. She didn’t analyze why she did it, or why he let her. Simply let it happen.

Quinn tucked his head into her neck, voice gravelly, his breath hot on her skin. “Goddammit, Avery.”

Mouth dry, she nodded her head in understanding. She didn’t need the words. What was done was done. She couldn’t take it back.

Gently he set her feet on the floor and she winced. They stung like she stood on a bed of glass. Before she could guess his intention, Quinn swung her into his arms and carried her out of the room. She wrapped her arms around his neck, too worn out to fight. Her gaze followed his tanned neck to the strong line of his jaw. His profile was rigid, lines of fatigue bracketing his eyes. So much strength and so much pain. He wore his emotions inside like a warrior. She admired that after the spectacle she made of herself.

Just as tenderly he deposited her on the sofa. Avery rested her head on a pillow and watched him stride into the bathroom and return with a First Aid kit. In silence he lifted her feet, sat on the opposite end and lowered them into his lap. The First Aid kit he opened and set on the arm of sofa.

With utmost care, he removed her socks, then unwrapped the blood-soaked bandages from her feet and discarded them on the floor. Next, he cleaned the soles, his hand warm against her tender skin. Avery studied his profile as he treated her wounds, and regret knifed through her chest. In another time, another place, under different circumstances maybe they could have become friends. Lovers, even. A man like Quinn would definitely have turned her head if she passed him on the street. So different from Tim. Tim was classically handsome, where Quinn was more rugged. After that kiss they’d shared, she knew what she was missing and that only made it worse.

Regret made her look away and stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the darkening sky. Maybe it would rain. Storms always calmed her. She stifled a yawn. The way Quinn’s hands cupped her feet made her sleepy. Her lids grew heavy.

“How did you get here?” she murmured, remembering she took his truck.

“Took a shortcut through the woods.”

Giving in to exhaustion, she let her lids drop. “Did you borrow a car?”

“I ran.”

Her head lolled to the side as sleep gripped her. “Must be a fast runner.”

His grunt made her smile as her limbs relaxed. A warm, humid breeze floated in through the open windows, caressing her skin. She hadn’t slept in days. Not for real. Catnaps in the room when her body shut down out of necessity. Pretending to sleep on the plane so no one would see her misery. The way she felt right now, wrung out and barely lucid, two straight days of uninterrupted slumber sounded like bliss.