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“But why would Daniel send you home over something like that?”
Quinn’s gaze dropped to the floor between them. Heat slowly crept up her skin. She directed her words down, as if she could bury them there. “I may have lost my temper and thrown a coffee mug.”
He made a choked sound, biting back a response that was equal parts shock, exasperation and laughter.
Only Quinn.
“Please tell me it wasn’t aimed at his head.”
“Nope, he was already gone.”
Thank God for small favors. Jace didn’t want to think what the guy’s reaction might have been if she’d hit a man who was clearly comfortable with beating his own wife.
“So he didn’t send you home because he was worried?”
“No, Daniel was plenty worried. Everett Warren is ruthless and cold.”
“Everett Warren?” Jace asked, his voice grim. Everyone in town knew the man, although not everyone realized just how crooked he really was.
The only reason Jace knew was because some of the guys he trained with worked for Warren, and not in his fancy office building.
While he didn’t have details, he knew enough to be wary.
And now Quinn was on the guy’s radar. Not just that, but she was standing between him and his wife.
An uncomfortable knot tightened in his belly.
“I don’t like this, Quinn.”
“Yeah, I’m not exactly thrilled with it myself. Caroline’s told me enough, but until I can convince her to talk to the police there’s not much I can do. Except make sure he can’t get to her.”
That wasn’t what he meant.
“You need to be careful. Warren isn’t the kind of man you mess with.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
“Maybe you should be. He obviously hurt his wife so he’s more than capable of hurting you.”
Quinn shrugged, dismissing the threat as if it didn’t even exist. That only made Jace’s teeth clench harder. God, she was stubborn.
“Caroline was a convenient target. I’m not.”
Apparently, they had different definitions for convenient. It wasn’t as if Quinn was hiding. She’d be easy enough to find, especially for someone with Warren’s network of connections.
Over the years, Jace had seen his fair share of just how nasty the world could be. Hell, he had the reminder tattooed on his skin, the image of a burning helicopter crashing behind them as he and a buddy pulled another soldier out. He’d gone to bed plenty of nights with grisly memories invading his brain and dreams. War was hell, and there were a plethora of monsters in the world, not just confined to children’s stories.
Apparently sensing his agitation, Quinn moved closer. Laying a hand on his arm, she tipped her head back and looked up at him. Those pale brown eyes were so sincere. So open and trusting.
Too trusting.
“Warren is too intelligent to come after me. Right now his wife is reluctant to press charges, but I won’t hesitate and he knows that. He has too much to lose.”
He hated to burst her naive little bubble, but someone had to do it. “That’s assuming he leaves you in a condition where charges are an option.”
The dismissive sound through Quinn’s throat did little to dispel his concern.
“He’s mean, not stupid. Coldblooded murder is a far cry from backhanding his wife.”
“Not that far,” Jace muttered.
“Besides, at the moment his public image is safe, but it doesn’t have to stay that way. He strikes me as the kind all wrapped up in appearances. He’s worked hard to project the idea of an affluent, influential, clean business man.”
Something dark crossed her face, a combination of anger and loathing. “He made damn sure to mark Caroline only where no one else would see.” Her soft eyes rose to his, churning and resolute. “The bruises are bad enough. But she has burn scars across her stomach. And faint lines I’m almost sure are from him cutting her.”
Spinning away, Jace shoved a hand through his hair. It was either that or slam it into the wall and he didn’t want to have to repair the drywall. “You aren’t helping me feel better here, Quinn.”
“No, he’s methodical and calculating. Polished and perfect. Yes, he’s angry he lost his toy—”
“You took her and know exactly where he can find her.”
“—but coming after me will only make matters worse. He isn’t going to do that. He was throwing his weight around this afternoon because he could. Bluffing in the hope that I’d cave. That’s all. If anything, I expect him to call in favors from some well-placed friends to put pressure on Daniel.”
“Daniel won’t give in.” It wasn’t a question. He’d been listening to Quinn talk about her job—and her boss—for two years. He’d gleaned several things, including that Daniel was a decent, upstanding guy who cared a great deal about the work they did and the people they helped.
But that didn’t make this any less of a clusterfuck. He’d always worried about Quinn’s job. She dealt with terrible things all day long—the emotionally draining, permanently scarring kind—and he didn’t want that for her.
Unfortunately, she had a soft heart and a will of steel and wouldn’t listen to anyone suggesting she find another way to make a living.
Her parents had fostered kids...at least, until the car accident that had killed them both. She’d grown up dealing with these kinds of horror stories. It was natural that she’d want to continue their work. And she was good at it.
Tomorrow he was going to pay Daniel a little visit, find out what he was doing to protect her.
Although, he was smart enough to keep that plan to himself. Quinn would just try to talk him out of it and there was no reason to fight her on it...yet.
* * *
“THIS IS ABSURD.” Quinn blew a frustrated breath out of her mouth.
“You’re the only one who thinks so,” Daniel said.
Behind him, Jace had his arms crossed over that damn ripped chest. He tried to hide the smug smile teasing the corners of his mouth, but he couldn’t quite pull it off.
She wanted to be angry with him for interfering, and she was pretty irked, but she knew he was only doing this because he was worried about her.
What pissed her off more was that he’d done an end run around her, going to Daniel behind her back. She could fight Jace, but not him and her boss.
Frustration and irritation buzzed through her brain. She felt the familiar rise of emotions, like a relentless high tide trying to erode her better intentions. Sure, she could let loose and spew anger all over Daniel and Jace, but that would just make her feel like a jerk.
“I don’t have time to deal with this, Daniel, and you know it. My caseload is towering over me as it is.”
“No one is asking you to ignore your work, Quinn. There are enough people in the office that you should be fine. We’re more concerned with you being home alone at night.”
She could see their point. The problem was that their solution was more likely to cause problems than the man they were afraid of.
“I will not be chased out of my own home. Especially not without a creditable threat.”
Jace grunted, calling into question her statement with very little effort. She glared at him. He simply stared back, his clear blue eyes unwavering, until she couldn’t take the direct connection and had to look away.
At least she managed not to blush. Her pale, freckle-ridden skin was a curse.
This was stupid and pointless. But she’d already said that once, and they’d responded with the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head. Frustrating.
“I’ll be staying with Quinn.”
“You’ll be what?” Quinn squeaked. “Don’t you have, I don’t know, a job?” she asked, her voice full of sarcasm.
Jace’s mouth, already austere on a good day, pulled down into a frown. The dark line of his brows slammed together over a glare. No doubt the intimidating look was exactly what he used to keep the soldiers he trained in line.
Quinn had a feeling those men, given that expression, would jump to do whatever Jace Hyland wanted...right after wetting themselves. And it wasn’t like Jace trained wussies. He had the best of the best, the strongest of the strong and the most masculine of the masculine under his command.
“I’ve taken some leave.”
Okay, before she’d been miffed. Now she was royally pissed. “Because of this? Because of me?” God, she was going to hurt Warren—and then possibly Jace. This was getting blown out of proportion. Big time.
“No. I had this time off scheduled already for another reason.”
Well, wasn’t that just great. Why didn’t that make her feel any better?
The man was on vacation—probably the first one he’d taken in two years—and he was sitting here preparing to babysit her as if she was a shaky-legged toddler.
“Why the hell aren’t you on a sandy beach somewhere, then?”
He sucked in a breath. Quinn watched his chest expand and hold. She counted in her head, up to almost ninety before he let the breath go with a quiet rush that she felt deep inside.
“Not much on sand these days,” he said quietly.
And Quinn immediately regretted her outburst. Who was she to tell the man how to relax? Her problem was, she wasn’t sure Jace understood the definition of the word.
And if anyone deserved a chance to unwind and shed responsibilities, it was Jace. But that was a discussion for another time.
What she had to deal with right now was the threat of him moving into her home. It was hard enough to keep her mind where it belonged when he was in the middle of her office. Running into him in the hallway late at night? Quinn wasn’t sure she’d survive the experience.
Not without embarrassing them both.
“There’s nothing more important than this. I made a promise, one I intend to keep. Michael would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
How was she supposed to counter that? Especially when his personal crusade was championed by a ghost. If she refused and, God forbid, something did happen to her, Jace would carry that guilt around with him for the rest of his life. He was weighed down with too much of that as it was.
This situation was spiraling out of control so quickly Quinn couldn’t find a single slippery thread to grab so she could try to hold it all together.
Jace pinned her with his gaze. Her heart fluttered and a pressure settled right in the middle of her chest. He held her eyes for several seconds before saying in a low, fluid voice, “Humor me.”
It wasn’t a request, but he waited for her response anyway. And for some reason, her ability to argue simply fled. She couldn’t deny him. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Realizing her mouth had gone dry, Quinn simply nodded.
Aw, hell, what had she just gotten herself into?
3
“I COULD JUST stay here,” Quinn suggested, despite knowing it wasn’t going to happen.
Jace didn’t even bother answering. He flashed her a cutting look and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. Not very patiently.
A black bag sat on the floor beside him. His foot tapped, a staccato against the cool tile.
She’d discovered the reason he’d had leave scheduled. And she didn’t like it. And really didn’t want to go. Attending an MMA fight was more her idea of torture than entertainment. She’d never understood the draw, for men or women.
Brutality was something she fought against. And these men—Jace included—were embracing it. Training for it. Seeking it out.
She didn’t understand and really didn’t want to.
They’d been arguing for the past twenty minutes, though. It had taken her under five to realize Jace wasn’t budging. She’d continued in the hope that eventually she’d make him late enough that he’d either leave her behind or, preferably, skip the thing entirely.
“In about thirty seconds I’m going to put you in the car myself. Stop stalling.”
Or not.
With a resigned sigh, Quinn grabbed her purse and slung it diagonally across her chest.
The drive out was silent. A part of her was grateful for the residual irritation oozing between them and the distraction it provided. Inside her own head, she continued the argument, knowing it was about as productive as actually speaking the words out loud. But maybe her mental rant would drain the emotion away.
They pulled into a dark parking lot filled with cars and trucks of every make, model and price point. Jace’s fingers brushed against her hip as he reached down and clicked open her seat belt.
Smacking his hands away, she snapped, “I can take care of myself, Jace.”
Or maybe the brooding was just feeding into her already crappy mood.
He blew out a grim breath. Exiting, he went to stand at the hood of the car. Bag slung over one shoulder, his wide, hard back to her, he waited. Even in the early summer, it was already late enough to be full dark. Harsh light from a car in the spot three spaces over slashed across his forbidding body.
His silence said more than any words could have. And for some reason, Quinn had the urge to reach out and run a soothing hand over his tense shoulders.
Grinding her teeth, she fought back the instinct. Touching him always seemed to backfire on her, sending an unwanted tingle of awareness rushing through her body. Better to keep her hands to herself.
So, instead, she walked past him toward the rectangle of light spilling out into the night from the two huge doors propped wide open. Noise poured out, along with shouting, laughter and music. Apparently the fighting had started and there was already a match going.
She’d barely gotten through the doors when Jace’s hand wrapped around her upper arm. Urging her forward, he directed her through the crowd, oblivious to the dirty stares that followed in their wake.
