Running Target

She eyed the small bed on the far side—where Quinn would sleep. She was fine with the sofa on this side. But wait. What was she thinking? She wasn’t going to stay long enough for that. Bree could sleep for a thousand years, but not until she was safe at home and Stevie was in her arms. And Dad knew that she was all right.

Now. How did she get there?

Bree realized Quinn was waiting for her to reply to his comment about her expecting the place to be a mess. “Oh, yeah, I was, actually. You were really sloppy.”

“These days, I have to keep it perfectly clean or I’d go crazy. I couldn’t function. Plus, I need to be able to flee at any moment and don’t want to have to search for stuff.”

Flee at any moment? Now that got her attention. She sat up and blinked, hoping she could keep her eyes open.

What was going on? She wanted answers from Quinn, but first she had some explaining to do herself.

He handed her a tall glass of water he must haul up here in plastic jugs. How else could he get it?

As she drank, he guzzled down his own and watched her over the rim of his glass. His blue-gray eyes stared at her. Eyes she used to look into all dreamily. That was before reality hit her hard—Quinn would leave her again. And again.

She still couldn’t get over the fact that Quinn had rescued her. She could remember the moment of surprise mixed with relief at seeing a friendly face, then with anger all over again, the way she always felt around him these days, at the way he’d left her—with a dead brother to remember him by. And yet now that he was here, her heart warmed to see him—she’d missed him so much. At the same time, she had never wanted to see him again.

She had mixed emotions when it came to this man—no doubt there.

But none of their past mattered while they were in danger. She finished the last of her water. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.

“I’m so sorry for dragging you into this, Quinn. But...how did you find me? What are you even doing here?”

He slowly set the glass on the counter and scraped both hands through his thick, shaggy hair. Her heart jumped around inside—she had always been so attracted to him, and unfortunately, now wasn’t any different. Angry with herself, she pushed from the sofa though she was a little unsteady on her feet, especially her injured ankle. She leaned against the counter to support her weight.

“What’s going on, Quinn?” She tried to read his somber expression.

He leveled his gaze on her. Oh no. Here it comes. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to know.

“You didn’t drag me into this.” Hands on his hips, he turned his back on her.

“Quinn.”

A few seconds passed, then, “It’s my fault that you’re in the middle.”

“Start talking.”

When he turned, she thought she might have seen him hiding a grin. “You were never the patient kind.”

“Quinn!”

He held his hands in the air and pressed his palms down. “Keep your voice down. We don’t want to lead anyone here.”

She eased forward but not too close. Maybe if she backed off the pressure, he would talk. She recalled easily enough that pressure was the wrong tactic with him. He would run rather than face it.

He took several long breaths. “Those men you ran into—they came here looking for me. I... I’ve been dreading this day. Hoping it would never happen, but keeping an eye out for it, all the same. From my perch here, if I look just so, I can view the river. I saw the whole thing from the moment you and your partner pulled up alongside them. I was watching it through my binoculars. I never prayed so hard, Bree. Well, there was one other time...”

Yeah, she knew exactly what time that was. He had prayed hard for Steve to live.

She said nothing, though, waiting for him to continue.

“As soon as I saw you go into the water, I followed you and saw you swim away. I started making my way down. It was dark by the time I found you, but I had my monocular so I kept searching and praying I could find you. There was only one real path you could have taken with the way the ravine twists along the river, and unfortunately, only one path the men after you could have taken.”

“Well, even if they came here for you, they’re after me now, too. But I have to ask—who are they and why are they searching for you?”

“Anything I tell you could put you in more danger.”

She huffed.

“You seem a little indignant.”

“You think? Seriously, Quinn, I’m already in danger. Jayce McBride, my partner and a good deputy, a husband and a father—he’s in danger. He made it out of the water, but I have no idea if he crawled on the bank to die or if he has been rescued...or if he’s still out there, trying to evade capture. Now, after everything I’ve just been through, I deserve to know, especially if what you say is true—that those men were on the river looking for you. Are you going to tell me?”

He hung his head. “I’m so sorry about everything.” He sucked in a long breath, then, “I was working undercover and they found out. That’s a betrayal they won’t easily forget, so they hunted me all the way here from Louisiana.”

Bree’s heart twisted in a hundred directions. She sucked in a breath. “Who are you working with?”

“DEA...”

Drug Enforcement Administration.

“Was, anyway.”

Obviously, there was much more to it.

Favoring her good leg, she tightened the belt on her uniform pants. She’d lost her own weapon. Her radio wasn’t working. But that didn’t change a thing. “I’m Deputy Carrington, Quinn, and if you’re being threatened then it’s my job to protect you. Let’s get you back to civilization and I can put you in protective custody.”

* * *

He swallowed the laugh that almost erupted.

Not going to happen.

Aww, Bree... Look at you.

He took in her messy, muddy face and hair—he couldn’t even tell if it was red now—and the scratch along her cheek. She probably got that from their wild run through the forest. That needed cleaning. He resisted the urge to cup her face. Wished he could take the pain of this night away.

The truth was that all Quinn would ever be to Bree was a pain-maker. But he could at least address the smallish pains. “Wait here.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just grabbing a first aid kit.” He didn’t have far to go in the small space, and was soon wiping away the mud from her cheek, then cleaning the scratch. “Let’s take care of these nicks and cuts before we head out again.”

“Thanks, but Quinn, you’re avoiding responding to my offer.”

In her eyes, he saw that he’d hurt her by not taking her up on her promise of protection. But it was ridiculous at best. She had no idea what she was committing to. No idea that she was only getting herself in deeper with her offer to help—that is, if he were to take her up on it.

He searched inside the kit, then hung his head. “I never meant to drag you or anyone else into this. I was hiding where no one could find me and yet I led them right into your path.”

“And just how did they find you?”

“That’s something I’d like to know as well, but it’s a question for another day. Right now, I need to wrap that ankle. Attend to the other scratches.” Get a rag to wipe away the mud from her face and hair. She could really use some clean clothes, as could he.

Her eyes were kind of glazing over now. “Sit down, Bree.”

Oddly, she allowed him to guide her to the sofa. He frowned. Was she going into shock? “Bree, tell me this.”

“What?”

“I know you’ve worked as a deputy for a few years. Have you ever killed anyone in the line of duty before?”

She studied her shaky hands and shook her head. “No. I... I’ve never exchanged gunfire like that. Nor had Jayce. The movies make it look like we do that all the time, but...”

“I know.” He knew, all right. He remembered the first person he’d taken out in the line of duty—first, as a soldier overseas. And then, unfortunately, in his job with the DEA. It had changed him. He didn’t like it.

He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay. Take your time.” She would need a lot of time to process that she’d shot and killed one of the bad guys tonight, even though she was a trained deputy. She was still human, after all, and taking a life would affect her in every way—spiritually, psychologically and mentally.

He sucked in a breath. He’d done this to her, too, put her in a situation where she’d had to take a life. Eventually, she might have been forced to take someone out in her job as a deputy. But maybe not. He couldn’t be sure. And anyway, the fact that she’d had to do so tonight was on him.

He had to get her back to civilization. She needed care and counseling.

Quinn was beyond care and counseling—and his only concern in this life was one thing: getting Bree to safety.

He lifted her chin to look into her beautiful green eyes—sad, grief-stricken eyes. They stabbed his heart, broke it open. She wanted to cry. He could see her eyes shimmering with emotion.

Quinn wanted to draw her into his arms and comfort her. Make the bad men go away. If only they lived in a world where they could be together and Quinn wouldn’t bring her harm or pain, and hey, as long as he was wishing, why not wish for Steve to be alive, too?

She blinked and moved away from his touch. In her eyes, her expression, he saw the same fire and determination he knew he’d eventually find there—it stirred back to life. Good. That was much better than seeing her defeated.

The last time he’d seen Bree in Coldwater Bay and looked in her eyes, he’d been holding her brother Steve’s body. His best friend. The man had drowned in a boating accident. Quinn had been on the boat with him. Though he hadn’t been charged, he’d held himself responsible, and so had Bree, he was sure. She hadn’t said as much, but he knew. He’d taken one look in her eyes then and seen the massive hurt and utter disappointment. It had cut him to the soul.

After being the sole survivor of the car accident that had killed his parents when he was a teenager, what had he been thinking to believe he could ever be close to or love someone? It would all turn to death and ash. That’s why he’d taken off again, even leaving his sisters behind.

But he’d tried. Oh, he’d tried with Bree. The second time he tried—after he’d returned from his military service—he’d actually let himself love her. Then her brother had drowned. Quinn had known at that moment that he didn’t deserve to love or to live a life filled with love. He’d been too afraid that even if he tried, tragedy would strike again. And now it appeared he definitely brought that death and danger with him.

He’d thought he could never look in her eyes again. So he’d left. He’d found the darkest place, a place he knew he would never be tempted to love, and he’d joined the DEA to fight another kind of war—the drug war.

The evil he’d experienced there made him feel dirty. Soiled. He wanted to wipe himself clean but he couldn’t get away. The darkness, the evil had followed him here to hurt Bree.

What had he been thinking to come back to Coldwater Bay?

His dangerous and dark job had gotten the best of him. And suddenly, the question burned and he had to know the answer. “You do believe me about why the men are after me, don’t you?”

“I want to, Quinn. But why not go to your superiors? Why not tell someone in the DEA—they could protect you.”

“Because someone on the inside is dirty. I don’t know everyone involved and I have to know who I can trust first. I was trying to find that out when my cover was suddenly blown and the leader of the group I infiltrated sent hitmen to kill me.” He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to imagine what those men would do to Bree if they got to her.

Because of him.

Why, God?

“So you just left your job?”

He nodded. “I’m hiding from the good guys and the bad guys. I can’t tell which is which.”

She frowned. “So you, what—just thought you could hide here forever?”

Not forever. “I just had to get away. Let things die down. Figure out who I could trust. I shouldn’t have come anywhere near Coldwater Bay. But I didn’t know where to go. I knew I couldn’t go running back to Aunt Debby or bring danger to my family. But I ended up near home anyway.” He’d thought he was discreet enough, hiding out in the wilderness, not contacting his family. But on his supply runs in town, he would spend time at an internet café and search for information, anything to help. Maybe that had been too risky, and he’d been located because of his activities.

“I guess something about Coldwater Bay just drew you back.” A smile from her?

That surprised him.

“I guess so. I never meant to bring danger to you.” Despite his efforts to stay away, he found himself looking in her eyes again, and her gaze swept his heart up into her current. “Bree—” What? What could he possibly say to make it all better? “We should be safe here for a few hours at least. You don’t need to try to protect me. You can’t put me into protective custody. That wouldn’t be a good idea for either of us. I’ll get you to safety and then I need to disappear again.”

He wouldn’t think his words, his promise to disappear, would surprise her. After all, he’d done just that at least twice with her. But her jaw hung open while she processed his words.

“If anyone asks,” he continued, “you never saw me. Do you understand?”

A loud snap resounded.

Someone had just triggered one of Quinn’s booby traps.

FOUR

“What was that?” Bree asked.

Quinn pressed a finger to his lips.

Bree held perfectly still. Quinn’s reaction could mean only one thing—the men had somehow found them.

She fought the overwhelming urge to hyperventilate. Hadn’t she just ridden half the night on Quinn’s back to escape?

Quinn moved like a predatory big cat, making no sound in pursuit of his prey. And that was just it—he was being hunted. They were being hunted together now. But his actions made it appear that he was the one doing the hunting. Maybe he could end this and they could stop running and call for help.

Her eyes darted around the camper. Did he have a communication device here? A cell or a satphone? She didn’t spot anything, nor could she bring herself to get up and search. At the moment, fear had paralyzed her. Come to think of it, it was probably safer not to stand, anyway. If she knew what was good for her, she would drop to the floor. Quietly, of course. Those men could spray this camper with bullets—demolish it completely.

A moment later, Quinn snuffed out the small lamp and utter darkness engulfed her.

Quinn! She wanted to call his name but feared making the slightest sound. A cool draft hit her. Goose bumps crawled over her.

And just like that...she knew she was alone inside the camper.

No warmth emanated from another body. No slight intake of breath. None of that sensation of another presence. Just the slightest shift in the air, the atmosphere.

How had he escaped the camper without her knowing? Through another opening besides the door? And he’d just left her here? She shouldn’t be so surprised.

She fisted her hands. Held back her anger and disappointment. She should be relieved he could enter and exit that quietly. That he had prepared for just this situation and had it all figured out. And why not? He’d been here long enough to plan for this moment. All that time, without reaching out or letting any of the people who cared about him know he was here.

As for her, she hadn’t expected any of this so couldn’t have planned for it. Like the rushing river that had tried to take her down and under and carry her away, she’d been out of control, and had to force her way up for breath. Had to make her way to the riverbank. She felt completely out of her depth here, but she was determined to force her way out of this. She had a family waiting for her on the other side of the wilderness and unlike some people, she would do everything in her power to go home to the people she loved. That meant standing up and taking action.

Right now.

He could need her help. He’d needed it before, despite his denial.

Okay. That was it. She would find a way on her own out of this camper before it turned into a death trap. He might be furious; then again, he might very well thank her.

God, a little help, please? Stevie, he needs me. You know he does. If something happens to me, then Dad will be devastated, too. Help me find a way out of here. Help me to help Quinn.

A thump sounded somewhere in the camper. Wait. Inside the camper? She must be mistaken. Unless...

“Quinn?” she whispered.

No. She had to get out now! Forget about finding Quinn’s trapdoor.

Bree fled in the direction of the main door, gritting her teeth through the throb in her ankle.

I can make it. I have to make it.

This was life-and-death. She didn’t have time to take it slow and keep quiet. She grappled with the doorknob—any moment someone could grab her from behind. Finally, she threw it open and fled the camper.

She stumbled down the short steps and nearly fell but caught herself, holding back the ridiculous whimper lodged in her throat, from both pain and fear.

Behind her, the door slammed shut.

Good job, Bree.

She had certainly given away that there was a camper if anyone was clueless. But someone had been inside and possibly searching for a warm body in the darkness so they could wrap their hands around a throat. Even though she didn’t know what she’d be facing out here, it felt better to be out than in.

She calmed her breathing. Her rapid heart rate. She could see better out here and protect herself. At least she still had the gun Quinn had given her. With trembling limbs, she remained behind a thick tangle of vines that loosely fell over the trailer and waited for whoever might come for her. Why, oh, why did she have to sprain her ankle?

Where are you, Quinn?

She had training in self-defense and law enforcement moves, but she didn’t have Quinn’s military training, which was far superior to anything she knew. She wouldn’t kid herself to think she could fight like him. But if she survived this, she would take extra training classes. Suggest it for all the deputies.

Footfalls crunched much too near.

The cadence was off.

Whoever was coming wasn’t Quinn. She held the weapon up but couldn’t see what or whom she was aiming at. Not good. Even if the footsteps sounded wrong, she couldn’t know with 100 percent accuracy it wasn’t Quinn.

A flicker of moonlight illuminated the silhouette of a big man as he stepped closer to the camper. It didn’t look like he wore night-vision goggles.

Her hands trembled. If she fired the weapon, she would be taking another life. She prayed he wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t somehow know she waited in the shadows.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t make me do it.

The man turned his head in her direction.

Was she breathing too loudly? Were his senses that well-honed? Without entering the camper, the man turned and walked away.

She released a quiet sigh of relief.

Her body was slammed full force against the camper. She fired off a shot, but missed. He ripped the gun from her hand and tossed it aside. Bright lights floated around in her vision. An arm pressed against her throat, lifting her off the ground and pinning her against the Casita. She kicked and wrestled, all her focus on pulling his arm away from her throat, but it was no use. Pressure built in her head.

I’m going to die! God, help me!

“Got you.” The man ground out the words, his hot breath hitting her face.

Maybe she didn’t have top military elite forces training, but she could knee the jerk. Lungs burning for air, she had a few short seconds. She kicked him where it hurt him the most and made it count.

He grunted, then dropped her. Her feet hit the ground and her bum ankle gave out. She crumpled beneath him and sucked in air. Forced her limbs into action so she could crawl away and find the weapon he’d discarded. The man grabbed her leg. She turned and kicked him in the face. He growled and reached for her again, and once he had a hold of her, pain ignited with his brutal grip as he made to crawl on top of her.

Quinn appeared out of nowhere.

Again.

He freed her from the man’s grip and lifted him. Her attacker was now the one who got to be slammed against the Casita. It probably had a huge dent in it as hard as Quinn had thrown him. She started her search for the gun again. Quinn wasn’t carrying one that she could readily see, but he punched the man instead of using a weapon.

The man dropped unconscious to the ground.

Quinn turned to her then and lifted her to stand. He gripped her arms, sounding out of breath. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. But I had it under control.” Isn’t that what he’d said to her when she had saved him, even though he’d been in denial?

“I’m glad to hear it. I might not be around next time. It’s good to know you can handle yourself against the worst kinds of thugs.”

Wait. He thought she was serious. He thought she would have won that fight against that huge, brutal man. Well, she’d go along with it. “I’m a deputy, after all.”

“I know.”

Who was she kidding? This wasn’t the kind of engagement they practiced in law enforcement training. She would be changing her training days once she made it out of this. In the meantime, she wanted answers.

“Where did you go? You just left me there for bait. Was that your plan all along?”

* * *

Her accusation was like a brass-knuckled fist to his gut, knocking the breath from him. Leaving him momentarily stunned. He composed himself and inhaled the oxygen she’d kicked out of him. She really had a much lower opinion of him than he’d realized, and that was pretty low to begin with. He ignored the pain creeping across his heart and reached for the man on the ground.

How did he pick him up?

This guy was beefy—all muscle and brawn, and that, combined with his obvious military background, made him a lethal foe. He had to hurry before the guy regained consciousness.

He hadn’t really thought she could take him on her own, but she needed reassurance from him that she could do this. He didn’t exactly want her waiting around for him to show up. She was a deputy and he believed in her. But when he got the chance, he would teach Bree some invaluable defensive moves, if she’d let him.

He hauled the guy up and over his shoulder to carry him.

“I want an answer, Quinn. Did you leave me there for bait? To draw this guy out?”

He didn’t have time to stand around and put her concerns to rest. So he’d work while he talked, though they should keep it quiet. He headed for the camper door.

“How could you even suggest that?” He ground his molars. “Could you get the door, please?”

She limped over and propped it open long enough for him to carry the guy inside. He kept forgetting about that ankle. Too bad about that. They could make much better time if she weren’t injured.

Inside the camper in the dark, he made his way to where he knew the sofa to be and dropped the unconscious man, wincing when he heard the thud. Had he just broken the sofa or had he missed it completely? Quinn flipped the light switch on.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He turned on her then. He and Bree—they’d always had sparks, and sometimes not necessarily the good kind. Like the sparks flying now. “First things first. Keep your voice down, please. Secondly, you don’t actually think I would leave you here to draw this guy to you, do you?” But he didn’t wait for her answer. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “To be clear, no. Absolutely not. I didn’t use you for bait.”