Deadly Secrets (10 page)

She stilled and leaned over, curling into his chest, kissing him softly as her small hands cupped his face. “What’s wrong?”

He opened his mouth and shook his head, closing his eyes, concentrating on Ella. On her blue hair, which surprisingly pulled a grin from him. The way she smelled, the way she felt, the way she fit against him, on him, with him . . .

It was different.

She was different, this was all different.

He opened his eyes and stared directly into hers. Quinlan started to roll her under him. Instead he rolled so that they lay staring at each other.

Her hands still held his face. “It’s okay, whatever it is.”

His eyes slid closed as he thrust up into her, glad the earlier memory hadn’t shriveled his cock.

“It’s you and it’s more than okay,” he said against her lips. “You, Ella, are amazing.” He hiked her leg up over his hip and thrust into her harder, loving that little mewl right there, that sound in her throat when he hit that spot just right inside her tight sweet body.

Her tongue teased his lips. “Look at me, Quin. See me.”

He opened his eyes again and saw her watching him, her eyes more blue with green striations leading to the amber flecks near the center. He loved the way the colors shifted in her eyes as they made love. “I do.”

She moved her hand and he caught her left wrist, tracing the letters of
love
that scrolled up her inner wrist with his tongue. He loved her tattoos.

Her shiver danced through him. For long moments their bodies undulated in a slow buildup. But he knew it wouldn’t last. She was like fire in his hands, uncontrollable and unpredictable.

She arched and pulled him even deeper.

“God, Ella,” he groaned. “Have I mentioned how much I like waking up with you?”

Chapter 6

New Orleans, four days later

Aiden looked again at his phone. “He hasn’t answered a single damned call from any of us in about two days. None of us have seen or heard from him since we all ate at the Magnolia Grill Friday evening.”

“He’s fine. The boy is getting laid and God knows he needed it,” Ian told him.

Gavin and Bray snorted and closed their menus. They were all at the Magnolia Grill again on Decatur. Their last night. One night more than they had originally planned. All thanks to their little brother.

“So we just leave him here?” Brody asked, sipping his drink. “Should of left his ass this morning. As it is, we’ll be a day later getting back.” He looked over the menu. “Wish I’d met a little blue-haired devil to keep me busy.”

They’d all met the woman Quin was apparently spending time with a couple of nights ago. Here at the Magnolia Grill actually, but no one had seen either of them since. Brody had spent most of the meal apologizing to her for their previous meeting.

Ian slapped Aiden on his shoulder. “Brother dear, you are the oldest, but we are all old enough to make our own choices. Stop being the mother hen. We brought him here to have a good time. Quinlan isn’t seven and drowning in the frozen river anymore.”

“Feels like it,” Aiden muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket. “He could at least text for us to go on. How do we know the woman didn’t steal every cent in his wallet and leave him for dead in an alley in the Quarter or in some bayou?”

“Because she has no criminal record, they’ve been holed up in her place for the last two days, and his credit cards haven’t been used,” Ian told him.

Aiden just stared at him. Okay, so he didn’t know all of that. He did know the woman Quinlan was spending time with had no criminal record, the rest was a total lie. He knew the two were actually in Vegas because that’s what the credit cards said. They were currently holed up in the Bellagio. However, he was not about to share that info unless it was absolutely necessary. As yet, none of his brothers had figured out the plane wasn’t even here in New Orleans, but in Nevada.

“I’m not the only mother hen, it seems,” Aiden said.

Ian’s grin faded. “I didn’t pay attention before, and if I had, Quinlan wouldn’t have been hurt in the first damned place.” He swallowed all of his water and wished it were something stronger, but hell, he’d been doing stronger all weekend. “I won’t make the same mistake again.”

“Fine,” Aiden said.

They all ordered and then Ian waited. Aiden didn’t disappoint. “As long as Quin seems to be having a great time, I won’t worry about him.”

Gavin snorted. “Yeah, right, that’s all we’ve done for the last year.” Gavin took a long swallow of beer.

“So it seems like,” Brayden said.

It was just them this evening. Gabe and Johnno were back at the house, nursing hangovers and just chillin’, they’d said. Fine. Christian’s brother had not been seen since that first night when he took them all out to his club, but then he was generally as busy as the rest of them, so that wasn’t a surprise.

What was a surprise, at least to Ian, was not only the youngest of them getting over whatever the hell kept him celibate for the last year—which Ian knew was mainly one Hellinski bitch—but the rest of his brothers and their amount of worry for one grown man.

Himself and his own worries he understood and owned. He shook his head.

Brody leaned up and added, “You guys smother him. The tighter you do it, the more he figures to hell with you and closes up.”

Ian smiled, and then there was Brody—Junior.

“We’re his brothers,” the twins both said before giving each other irritated looks.

“So?” Brody said. “We’re the same age. I daresay, other than Aiden, through the years I’ve spent the most time with him.” He leaned back and laughed. “And some damned fine times those were too. He’ll be fine. Man always had a woman. Last year or so has just been unnatural.”

“Yeah, well, regardless how well you know him, Junior, we’ll still make sure some slag doesn’t take advantage,” Ian said.

Brody glared at the nickname. “Fine, don’t listen to me.” Then he frowned. “Slag? What the hell’s a slag?”

“Ian here is picking up lovely euphemisms from his wife,” Aiden said.

Their food arrived and their conversation moved onto other topics, but Ian’s mind kept along the track he’d told the others to get off of.

First Quin almost died, then he just wasn’t himself. Ian knew Aiden missed their brother the way Quinlan used to be. The workaholic. Charming and social. A mind so sharp he never made notes. Now he worked, but it wasn’t with any sort of passion that he’d had for it before. He often forgot things that he never would have forgotten before. Now the charm was more rote and he’d only do social on a dire threat or when there was no other option. Maybe, whoever this woman was, she would help bring their brother back.

Or at least one that cared about something. Because Quinlan Kinncaid didn’t care about anything anymore.

Ian knew that feeling well. The nothing was not a place he wanted his brother to be.

* * *

The next morning

“Why isn’t he back yet?” Ian asked yet again.

Aiden tilted his head and looked at him. “You said we were worrying too damned much,” he told him, zipping up his own bag.

Ian just shot him a look that hopefully said without words what he thought of that. “I am merely cautious and it’s served me very well.”

“Cautious, paranoid,” Gavin muttered. “They’re like twins.”

“So which are you?” Brayden asked. “And please, can’t you all just shut the hell up?”

“Silence would be fantastic,” Brody added, easing into a chair.

“Headache still?” Aiden asked.

Most were stumbling around, or more accurately, easing around. The stumbling had been most of the week. Now it was time to pay the price. After their days in New Orleans, they all wore shades. Aiden rubbed his brow. Surprising to Ian’s way of thinking, because normally their perfect eldest brother was a control freak enough that he wasn’t about to get drunk multiple nights in a row—or stay that way throughout their entire trip. Like Brody, their cousin.

“Fuck off,” Brody said.

Ian continued to pace. His brother’s phone was turned off. Maybe the battery was out, because he couldn’t locate the damned thing anymore.

“You could just GPS track his ass,” Gavin said. “Mr. I-am-all-seeing-and-all-knowing and—”

“I already did that.”

“I was joking. Damn, Ian. Chill. This is not exactly healthy behavior.”

“Healthy behavior does not always keep people alive.”

Aiden grunted. “There are so many inconsistencies in that comment alone.”

“If he’s on the plane then he’ll be here,” someone said.

“He better damn well be,” Brody muttered. “I missed two meetings this morning alone and I don’t remember what I had on the schedule this afternoon.”

“Junior,” Gavin started.

Brody threw a stuffed pillow at him. “Everyone, please, I beg you, just shut the fuck up or I’ll find a way to kill you all.”

Ian walked to the side of the courtyard and dialed Roger—the longtime Kinncaid pilot.

The courtyard was quiet, the voices of his brothers and cousin rumbling out to clash with the soothing sounds of the fountain and birds, the muffled traffic from beyond the old thick, brick, ivy-covered walls.

“Yes? Mr. Ian?” Roger answered.

“Everything all right?” he asked. “And how long until you get here?”

“About an hour.”

Ian grunted. “Please tell me you have more of my brother than just his cell phone sitting on his chair.” Ian knew that much because the phone had been moving for a couple of hours now, or it had been until the battery died.

Roger was quiet for a moment. Then he muttered something and said, “Indeed. I thought he was asleep, but the kid hasn’t slept since he got on. Looks like shit and was using his cane, limping bad.”

Worry tightened his nerves and he frowned at the ivy. “He’s okay though?” So Ian had told his brothers to knock off the mother-hen worrywart shit. Didn’t mean he had to. He was paid to worry about people. Maybe he was the workaholic in the family now.

“Reeks like a brewery and she wasn’t with him. Didn’t ask—”

“Ella?”

“Yeah, pretty thing he took with him. Blue hair. Strange that.”

Definitely Ella.

Fine. He started to grill Roger about his brother. But damn it, he supposed since Quin was safe and on his way, it didn’t matter. After the last year though, and almost losing one of their own, it was harder than he would have thought to back off.

He rubbed his fingers over his lips. “Never mind. You’re heading back here and that’s all that matters. The wolves are getting restless.”

“Well, I can’t very well be in two places at once, boss. He tried to get me to go back to New Orleans when we landed in Vegas yesterday, or whenever the hell it was, day before. I figured I’d just stay there. Either he’d be ready to go or you and the boys would call me back.”

Ian grunted again. “See you soon.” He turned to see his brothers sprawled in the iron chairs around the courtyard. “And Roger? Thanks.”

Aiden merely raised a brow at him. “Worrying needlessly, am I? A mother hen, I believe you called me last night.”

“This morning.”

“When the hell ever.”

Gabe and Johnno rambled out of the house, showered and dressed if not in completely top form. John had a beer.

Ian saw Aiden shudder as John set the beer on the table between them and sat down.

“Want one?” John asked Aiden.

“No, thanks. I’ve had enough for a good long while. I am getting too old for this shit—fun as it was.” He looked up at Ian. “Just tell me he’s okay,” Aiden said.

Ian held his brother’s cobalt stare—so like his own—and nodded. “Roger said he’d be here soon.”

“Where was he again?” someone asked.

Ian shrugged, dodging the question, not sure he should tell them.

“You don’t know?” Aiden asked him, standing to pull his own phone from his jeans pocket before he ducked beneath the red umbrella and sat again at the little iron table. He needed food.

“Didn’t we go through this last night?” Brayden asked.

“None of you are his mother,” Brody said. “Maybe he has a girlfriend now, though hopefully not the blue-haired chick. She wasn’t his normal type. Another one that’ll get his ass back on track.”

“A girlfriend? From a weekend fling? Or practically a week fling by the time we finally get home?” Gavin snorted. “I thought you, of us all, would know that is not how the game is played.”

“He hasn’t had one since her,” Aiden said.

“She wasn’t his damned girlfriend, Aiden,” Ian muttered.

“You know what I meant. He hasn’t had or been with or . . . At least Ella made him smile. She’s different, though.”

“At least the kid got laid.” Ian thought of Ella and her blue hair and quirky attitude and couldn’t hold in the grin.