Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series (23 page)

“Tell me more about your parents. What are their names? Are they retired? What did
they do for a living?”

The grim set to his mouth told her he didn’t want to talk about them.

“Please, Quinn. I need more.”

“Edward and Geneva Braddock. My father’s family is in banking. My mother’s job is
to help my father succeed. They had little time for their children.”

“Your family is Braddock Bank and Trust?”

“You’ve heard of them?”

“They have a couple of branches in Atlanta. You didn’t know that?”

“No. Banking is their business, not mine.”

“I’m so sorry about your brother. That must have been an excruciating time for your
entire family.”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Suicide is never pleasant but Dalton’s life was
over years before he took his life.”

His answer was short and blunt, understandably so. Dead loved ones always left victims
behind. And suicide could be the most hurtful.

As if remembering their promise to open up more, he went on. “My brother was barely
a teenager when he was institutionalized. When he was seventeen, he apparently decided
he’d had enough. I think my parents were relieved.”

Horrified, she said, “Why? What did they do?”

“They held a memorial service and went on with their lives.”

“You don’t think they grieved?”

“With anyone else, I might say yes. But I knew them too well. When they were out of
sight of the public, their concern was about their reputation and how to protect
it. So, no. I don’t think they grieved … at least not like normal people.”

She shivered at their coldness. “No wonder you don’t talk to them often. And they
didn’t come to your wedding?”

His mouth twisted with a grimace. “We eloped. Charlene’s only family was an older
brother she hadn’t seen in years. And inviting my parents to our wedding would have
been hypocritical. They probably wouldn’t have come anyway.”

“From what I know about Charlene, she seems so different from you. Why did you marry
her?”

Another grimace. “Stupidity. Met her at a party. I’d been focused on my career, not
having a social life. She latched onto me like I was some kind of rock star.” His
smile was a mixture of embarrassment and self-deprecation. “She was beautiful. And
even though I was old enough to know better, I reacted with all the sophistication
of a sex-starved, awestruck kid.”

“Yet you stayed married to her for three years?”

“I’d never given up on anything in my life. Stupid thing is, I knew within a few months
I’d made a mistake. She turned from a witty, exciting woman into a manipulative shrew.

“I was working eighteen-hour days; she was bored. I told her to get a job or a hobby.
At first I was too busy to notice. Then one night I came home, she was in the bathroom.
I made the mistake of surprising her in the shower. I saw her body … thought she’d
been raped.”

“Why?”

“She had bruises, welts, and bite marks all over her.”

“She hadn’t been raped?”

“No. She confessed that she had cheated on me. Swore it was just the one time. Said
she liked the kind of pain the guy gave her.” He shook his head. “I think the
only reason she told me was because she hoped I’d give her the same kind of treatment.”

It took a lot to shock her anymore but the thought of a woman or anyone wanting to
be physically hurt for pleasure amazed her. Sure, she knew enough about BDSM to realize
it got rough sometimes, but this sounded more extreme than that.

“What did you do?”

“I told her ‘Hell no,’ of course. The thought of doing something like that disgusted
me. I already knew the marriage was over, but she begged for another chance. We talked
about going to counseling but I knew I was going to leave. I went to see a friend
of mine … my old college roommate. I knew he had a condo he’d been trying to sell.
Thought I’d buy it.”

Gut instinct told her what happened next. Still, she asked, “What happened?”

“The receptionist wasn’t at her desk. I figured Nate wasn’t there, either. I was about
to walk out when I heard sounds coming from his office. I stuck my head inside. Nate
and Charlene were on his couch together.”

“What did you do?”

“I stood in the doorway and laughed at them.” He gave a dry, cynical chuckle. “You’ll
never know how relieved I was.”

Quinn was the most controlled person she knew, but anyone, no matter how controlled,
would be furious at the scenario he’d just described. If she had known about this
before, would it have prevented her thinking he had murdered Charlene?

“After I told her I was divorcing her, she confessed to all the other affairs she’d
had. Apparently they started a few months after our marriage. I told her to get a
hobby …” He shrugged. “She did.”

“How on earth did you keep from knocking the hell
out of her?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He looked at her then, the pain she had dealt him in his eyes. “I don’t hurt women,
Samantha.”

“I wish you had told me about her earlier. I wouldn’t have—” She stopped again. She
was making this worse.

“I didn’t know I needed to explain that I don’t hurt or kill women for you to trust
me.”

“I screwed up, Quinn. I’m so sorry.”

He stood and went to the sink to pour out his cold coffee.

Samantha watched him. There were so many things she wanted to say, ways she wanted
to show him how sorry she was for not trusting him. Instead she stayed silent.

“It’s getting late. I think I’ll go on to bed.” He headed out of the kitchen and then
surprised her when he stopped at the door and said, “I said I don’t hurt women. That
last night … I hurt you, Sam. I was rough with you. I’m very sorry about that.”

Before she could respond, he was gone.

Her chest ached. She had hurt him so very badly, and instead of holding it against
her, he wanted to give them another chance. And even though it scared the hell out
of her, she wanted that, too.

But where were they headed? Back to what they had been before, or had this opened
a new door for them? He had admitted early on that he didn’t want anything permanent,
but the actions he’d taken—coming to Midnight, buying a house here. Didn’t that mean
he wanted more than what they’d had before? Something permanent?

She was going to do it—she had to give them another chance. She loved him … wanted
a future with him. And his actions proved his feelings for her were strong. Staying-power
strong? She would soon see.

Quinn stood at the window of the guest bedroom. Darkness outside prevented him from
seeing anything but the reflection of a grim-faced man. A man whose career was officially
in the toilet. Of all the turns he had imagined his life taking, this hadn’t been
one of them. Since Charlene’s murder, rumors had run rampant throughout the hospital.
Everyone, even the people he’d worked with for years, had started looking at him differently.
Ignoring them hadn’t stopped the talk. The hospital board had claimed they were behind
him, but they had caved to pressure. They hadn’t said the words but he had no problems
reading between the lines. They wanted him out.

The court of public opinion didn’t give a damn about charges being dropped and witness
testimony. Suspicion had been cast, and until Charlene’s murderer was caught, he was
still a suspect in their eyes.

In one of her last temper tantrums, Charlene had told him that she’d give anything
if she could ruin him. Little had she known that that’s exactly what she would do.

He had agreed to come back to Atlanta and discuss his future. As much as it galled
him to give up what he’d worked over a decade for, he knew what his decision would
be.

He hadn’t mentioned anything to Sam yet. What was
the point until he had figured out where he went from here?

The knock on his door had him turning in an instant. Sam stuck her head inside the
room. “Do you have everything you need?”

He told himself to honor their agreement—nothing physical. But with her only a few
feet from him, looking so damned sweet and sexy, it took every bit of willpower to
stay at the window and say, “Yeah, thanks.”

“There’re more blankets in the bottom drawer of the chest, if you get chilly.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you get too warm, you can lift the window. It gets stuck sometimes, so you may
have to tug on it a little.”

Her anxious expression reminded him of their first night together. She’d been nervous
and had needed reassurance. He was known for his patience and never had he been more
rewarded for it than that first night with her.

“And there should be plenty of towels in the bathroom, too.”

Quinn fought a smile. She didn’t want to leave either but they’d made the damn pact.
“Sam, do you want to kiss me?”

When she blushed and then nodded, Quinn willed himself to stay put. “But we agreed
to nothing physical.”

“I know … it’s just …”

“How about I meet you halfway?”

He was surprised and pleased that instead of hesitating or saying no, she was in the
middle of the room almost as soon as he got the words out. Quinn wasted no time, either.
With a groan, he reached for her. He should be going slower, easier … less urgently.
But he’d waited too long for this kiss.

Standing on her toes, Sam wrapped her arms tight
around his shoulders. Quinn plastered his body against hers and moved his mouth gently,
thoroughly, over her sweet, luscious lips. He tasted passion and surrender. Though
he was hot, hard, and aching, he made no move to take it further than the kiss. Hell
yeah, he was hurting. Everything within him told him to pull her down onto the bed
behind him and thrust hard and deep into the sweet heat that waited for him. But he
couldn’t. This was too important, she was too important.

They broke away from each other, gently, reluctantly. Quinn saw what he wanted to
see in her eyes. Desire, need, and sexy, sweet submission. He’d seen that look many
times in the past. And in the past, he had fulfilled everything she’d asked for. Tonight
was different. He wanted more than her acquiescence.

“Go now, before we change our minds.”

Her sigh one of resignation and regret, she backed away from him. “Good night.”

“Sleep tight.”

“You too.”

As she opened the door, he said, “Anytime you want to end our pact, I’m game.”

With a smile full of promise and something more, she blew him a kiss. “I’ll keep that
in mind.”

The door closed on his abrupt bark of laughter. How the hell had he gone all these
months without that smile?

Samantha sat in the sunroom, sipping coffee and enjoying freshly baked blueberry muffins
brought over by Logan Wright. Brody was with Lauren. Logan had said he wanted to give
his report to Samantha in person, but she strongly suspected he needed to get some
distance from their client. Didn’t take a psychic to see that Lauren
and her experiences had deeply affected the stern, reserved Logan.

After waking from the best sleep she’d had in months, she had come to the kitchen
for coffee and found a note on the counter from Quinn.

Went for a run. Wish I were running with you. Q

That had made her smile. She and Quinn had only run together a few times, but she’d
loved it. Even though she was in good shape, when compared to Quinn’s strength and
stamina, she was definitely at a disadvantage. That hadn’t mattered, though. He’d
never pushed her to do more than she wanted.

Savvy was still asleep and Zach was doing paperwork in the study. Samantha had been
prepared to enjoy a lone cup of coffee and had been seriously arguing with herself
that the chocolate cake on the counter would make a halfway decent breakfast. Seconds
later Logan had shown up with a basket of muffins, resolving the argument.

“The good news is,” Logan was saying, “we’ve got everything recorded—all of Lauren’s
recounting of Cruz’s twisted, fucked-up deeds. Bad news is, we’ve got nothing to back
it up.”

Logan wasn’t one to sugarcoat anything. When she and her sisters had made the decision
to form their own agency, they had relied heavily on the advice and support from both
Logan and Brody.

Samantha had always thought the men made an interesting partnership. Both had served
with Zach in the army and had moved south after they left the service. Their security
agency was thriving in Mobile. She wondered if the differences in their personalities
helped with their success. Brody had a tendency toward optimism. Not that one would
ever call him lighthearted, but when compared with Logan and his brooding demeanor,
Brody might be considered positively jolly.

“Is Lauren getting stir-crazy in the safe house?”

An interesting light brightened Logan’s forest green eyes. “She’s turned into a domestic
diva. I swear I’ve packed on five pounds since I got here.”

Considering the man’s six-foot-five frame and rock-solid muscles, five pounds wouldn’t
show. It was nice to see a lighter side of Logan, though. She’d often wondered if
his experiences in the war were what had made him so dark or if he had been like that
before.

“Is it going to be a problem for you staying with her full-time?”

“No. Zach needs Brody’s help. We’ve got everything covered back at our office, so
until this thing’s over or you guys don’t need us anymore, we’re here for the duration.”

“And that’s the biggie. We don’t know how long this thing is going to last.”

“Have you heard from Bri?”

Samantha shook her head. With Bri going undercover, she had known she wouldn’t, but
that didn’t lessen the worry. Especially since Savvy had asked about her a couple
of times already.

“Your sister’s a smart girl. She won’t do anything stupid.”

“I know she won’t, but combined with Savvy’s health problems, I’m feeling just a little
anxious.” Samantha shrugged. “Our only option is to maintain status quo until we hear
from Bri. If the police can get what they need to arrest him, Lauren’s testimony should
be phenomenally helpful.”