by Trisha Wolfe
“Relax, Miss Johnson.” He runs a finger along my face, and I shudder. “This will be over quickly.”
He turns toward the woman, and before I realize I’ve reacted, I lunge for his hand. Something wild takes over me, demanding and crazed. “You can’t do this to her!”
Within seconds, the man with the gun has me restrained, the barrel pressed against my temple. The hard steel bites into my skin as a sickness washes over me.
This is it. It’s all over.
At least I tried.
The man with the white mask faces me. He tsks. “Very well, Miss Johnson. I will honor your request, since you’ve been such an asset thus far.”
Relief floods me. Whatever happens next…I can get through it.
Only just as I grasp on to that fleeting ray of hope, it’s shattered.
I don’t even have time to fight. It happens so suddenly; the man is beside me; the syringe lowered; the needle inserted into my arm. Fire shoots into my system, racing through my bloodstream. My vision flickers as heat blankets my skin.
As my muscles go lax, I wilt against the strong arms supporting me. My head lulls against his hard chest.
“I expect we’ll get much better results from you, anyway,” he says, dropping the syringe in the trash and wiping his hands off on his gray slacks. “What better test subject than the drug designer herself?”
A dizziness sweeps over my senses, and I shake my head. The room spins. “I want…to leave.”
He chuckles. “Of course. We can’t very well record your progress here, can we?” He aims his attention to the man holding me at gunpoint. “Relocate her. Securely,” he stresses. “After all, the boss should be the one to enjoy the fruits of our accomplishment.”
It’s right on the tip of my tongue…the question. Wanting to know who this illusive boss is. But like the woman to my left, my fight has evaporated. As the drug blasts my arteries, exploding in euphoric shivers over my body…I’m lost.
My last thought: Quinn, save me.
10
Control
Quinn
“GPS has just been triggered on the bus.”
I hear Carson’s update, but I’m too invested in my rage for it to register.
“Quinn.” Sadie’s voice bleeds through the radio static. She reaches for the handset. “Carson, what’s the location?”
“Last pinged heading east toward TRM Bridge,” he responds.
That does sink in. Avery’s being taken to DC. Across the state line and into another jurisdiction. Not happening.
I check my rearview right before I pull off onto the median and come to an abrupt stop. Sadie braces her hands on the dash and swears. We’re moving again, making a hard U-turn before she has the chance to reprimand me.
“Hell, Quinn…”
Hell isn’t here—not today. If I have any say, Avery’s slipping right through its clutches. I’m driving toward oncoming traffic, cars blaring horns and veering left out of the way, until I find a clear space in the median to cross over.
We hit the patch of grass with a hard bump, another curse from Sadie, and I swerve into the right lane.
“We’re going to save her,” Sadie assures. “But not if you kill us first.”
My mouth crooks into a smile. “This from the woman who set off on her own to face a serial killer?”
I can’t see it, but I can feel her scowl. Those narrowed green eyes drilling me. “I thought we weren’t ever going to mention it.”
I pass a car, shooting around to get ahead of traffic. I grunt my derision. “I’m not mentioning it…technically. I’m expressing my dislike for your carelessness.”
I peek over to see her eyebrows hike. “Expressing, huh. Since when does hardboiled Detective Ethan Quinn express himself?” Her laugh is clipped. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”
Ignoring the baiting comment, I focus on getting through the intersection before the yellow light turns red.
“Carson,” Sadie says into the handset. “We need an update.”
A hiss of static. “Still eastbound on GWM and coming up on the island. I’m ten minutes away.”
“We’re less than one,” she says, planting her hand on the dash to prepare for the sharp turn up ahead. “Notify all unis for backup. We’re in pursuit.”
I take the turn, feeling the tires lose traction with the road. Gripping the wheel tighter, I pull the car straight and punch the gas. Then I lock onto it. The transport van is making time in traffic, doing the speed limit. Trying to go undetected.
You’re fucking detected.
Thanks to the brains in the department, they were able to override the disabled GPS system on the bus. And now we’re close.
She’s close. I can feel it. Still, the fucking ache in my chest won’t stop until I see her inside the van…alive.
I reach for the controls and shut off the siren, but it’s too late. The bus guns it.
“Shit.” A stealth attack is lost. Time to improvise.
“Find something and hang on,” I advise Sadie.
Pulling up beside the Audi directly behind the bus, I honk. The driver looks over, a pissed off expression on his face, until he sees the flashing blue and reds. I flip on the siren, and his car slows to a crawl, getting annoyed honks from the cars piling up behind.
I snag the radio. “I need a stretch of GWM cleared up ahead, Carson. Make it happen.”
“I got you,” he replies.
I hope he does.
The bus picks up speed. I stay on its tail, keeping at a safe distance. We need to stop it before it reaches a dangerous speed.
“Bonds. Shoot the back tire out.”
With another cop, I might get a shocked retort. A complaint about filling out paperwork for discharging their weapon. And I wouldn’t ask anyone that I didn’t trust to pull it off while keeping Avery safe.
That’s exactly why I ask her.
Sadie doesn’t hesitate. She unbuckles her seatbelt and unclips her SIG from the holster. I lower the window for her as she peels off her jean jacket.
“Aim low,” I say.
Gaze straight ahead, she says, “I’m good.”
Angling her body halfway out the window, she tests her balance. She keeps her gun out of sight until I’m close enough. Then she hunkers near the side-view mirror and aims.
Pop. Pop.
Two blasts. One from her gun, the other from the tire blowout.
The van zigzags with a screech as the driver tries to regain control. I veer off to the left, coming up beside the bus to help guide it onto the median. The driver puts up a fight at first, but I nudge him—not so lightly—with the side of the Crown Vic and he relents.
He knows he’s through; he’s not making an escape on a flat.
I’m already pulling my gun once I’m parked ahead of the van. “Stay here—” I say, but Sadie’s opening the door before I can finish. “Shit.”
I jump out and round the car, gun aimed. “Hands on the wheel! Hands on the wheel! Let me see them.”
Adrenaline soars. My roaring blood pulses in my ears as I get a lock on the driver. From my peripheral, I glimpse Sadie mirroring my stance, gun drawn and ready to fire at any threat.
My gaze snags the man’s hands as he eases them onto the wheel. Slowly, I move in.
And I see her.
Avery’s there, her face just visible through the grate divider.
My relief is so strong, I damn near buckle at the knees. But I check myself, churning the residual anger still brimming at the surface into a weapon. I order the perp to keep his hands raised and slowly exit the vehicle as I open the van door.
Sadie has his partner detained in the passenger-seat, his hands raised.
“Avery,” I shout. “Are you okay?”
She delivers a low confirmation, her voice too faint. But she’s talking. She’s coherent. She could be in shock. The important thing is she’s alive.
Once the guy who’s wearing a blue jumpsuit is out and facing me, I lower my
GLOCK and order, “Turn around and don’t. Fucking. Move, you piece of shit.”
I clamp a cuff around one of his wrists and secure the other cuff to the side-view mirror before I hoist myself into the cab of the van. I unlatch the grate door. “Put your arm around me,” I tell Avery. She does, clinging to my shoulders as I lift her out of the back.
“You saved me,” she says against my chest.
My mouth turns down into a hard frown. “We’re all here for you.” I lock my arms around her and shuffle us into the driver-seat. I maneuver her off my lap with forced effort, desperate to keep her there—just feel her close to me and safe a minute longer. Then I climb down out of the van and look up into her face.
“You pulled off that hero thing pretty good.” She smiles, but it’s off. Her eyes glazed and pupils dilated.
“If I was any kind of hero,” I say, “then you wouldn’t be here in the first place.” I grip her thigh once—one reassuring squeeze of my hand—before I turn to take my frustration out on the perp.
I uncuff him from the van and shove him against the front of the van, brining his hands behind his back. “You have the right to remain silent—”
The perp whirls on me and clips the side of my head with a direct punch.
Sonofabitch.
He’s already taking off and running down the freeway within the seconds I recover. Fuck it. I give chase and tackle him.
As he struggles beneath me, I decide I no longer need my gun and lock it into my holster. This bastard is going to get a bit of old-school processing. And I’m damn sure going to enjoy it.
11
The Depths
Avery
I watch Sadie collar the guy in the passenger-seat. She yanks him out of the van, literally by his shirt collar, and I smile. She’s so tiny, but somehow she manhandles him as if he’s just a flea. She cuffs his wrists behind his back and commences reciting off his rights.
He’s the one who wore the horror mask. I knew once the two men stripped the disguises away that I was not making it out alive. But I am. I’m here.
I shake my head to clear it, and my vision fills with tracers. My skin itches as the heat simmering beneath rises to the surface, demanding to be felt.
“Come on, Avery. You’re safe,” Sadie says.
I climb over to the passenger-seat, and she wraps an arm around my waist, offering support as I fumble my way out of the van. “Sadie…thanks,” I say, my tongue feeling coated and heavy in my mouth.
As she helps me get my bearings, her eyebrows pull together. Her gaze drags over me, slow and curious. “What did they do to you? Avery, are you okay?”
I look into her face and smile. She’s so beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever told her how lovely she is, with her long dark layers framing her jewel green eyes—eyes that see right down to the marrow of people.
I reach out and let my fingers skim her face, feeling her tantalizing, silky features grace the pads of my fingers. “Everything is fine,” I assure her, and I mean it. Right now, I could either fall blissfully asleep or stay awake forever. Both options sound equally appealing.
She curses under her breath, which makes my smile stretch hearing a foul word from her delicate lips. “Stay right here.”
Hauling her perp by his linked hands, she escorts him to the back of Quinn’s car, where she handcuffs him to the door and then locks him inside. She pulls something from the front seat before she’s back at my side. She slips her jacket over me, guiding my arms into the sleeves, then brings my face before hers.
Placing her hands on either side of my face, she tugs the sensitive skin down below my eyes, hers squinting as she performs an inspection. “You’ve been drugged. Do you know what they gave you?”
I nod. “Something that’s going to make me crawl out of my skin here in about ten minutes,” I answer honestly. I’m lucid—rational enough to understand the effects taking place—but it’s as if I can’t make myself care.
A frown pulls at Sadie’s pretty mouth. “Okay. Let’s go.” She links my arm around her shoulder. We reach the back of the van, and I hear a loud groan followed by a curse.
Quinn has the other guy on the ground, his knee pressed into the middle of the man’s shoulder blades. The guy—the one I stabbed with a pen—looses a string of swears into the gravel.
I’ve never seen Quinn get so…physical before. It does something to my insides. Watching him thrust his body weight on top of the guy stirs a primal and raw craving deep within me.
But true to Quinn’s compulsive nature, he doesn’t take it any further. He promptly stands, releasing the man and says, “Get up.”
Beside me, Sadie sighs. “Quinn, we don’t have time for this. Avery needs—”
The guy throws a punch at Quinn, shocking her silent.
“Okay,” she says. “Do your thing.”
My mouth pops open, but either the chemicals inside me or the fact that Quinn is shedding his coat, revealing straining muscles against his dress shirt, has me promptly biting my lip.
The guy spits dirt from his mouth, an angry scowl etched on his face. “I’m not through with you, pig.”
Quinn leisurely strides to the back of the van, where he folds his coat neatly and lays it on the bumper. Then, rolling up his sleeves, Quinn returns to face the guy. He hauls back and lands a blow to the man’s face. Right in his nose.
Blood covers the guy’s face before he drops to the ground. Quinn drives his foot into the guy’s stomach. The resounding choking is followed by the gasp of the man sucking all that dirt back into his mouth.
My chest explodes with heat.
Fiery currents zip and tangle, building into a roaring inferno deep within my core. I squeeze my thighs together, needing pressure to ease the ache.
As if in a trance, I start toward Quinn, but Sadie snags my sleeve. “Down, girl.”
I have to settle for watching Quinn rough the guy up as he clamps handcuffs on his wrists and forces him to stand. It’s a nice view, all that male testosterone cording his muscles tight…the way his slacks hang low on his hips…the determined look in his eyes.
Quinn gets the man to the car as we follow behind, and Sadie says, “Avery needs to get to a hospital. You take them in. I’ll help her.”
This gains Quinn’s attention, and after he locks his perp inside the car, he nails me with a concerned look. It hits me like a wave, crashing into my being with a brutal force.
Desire to have him stare at me like that for hours…days…thrums through me with vicious need. “I want Quinn,” I hear myself state.
His thick eyebrows hike up to his graying hairline, and it’s sexy as hell, the way this tough man nearly blushes. But Sadie’s the one to respond. “Not a good idea,” she says, starting to lead me away.
“You can’t take the bus,” Quinn says. “It has to be processed.”
Sadie doesn’t talk back, but the icy look she sends Quinn conveys more than words.
Squad cars pull up, sirens blaring, interrupting the impending standoff between them. Carson parks ahead of the two black and whites and quickly heads toward the van.
“Look,” Sadie says, lowering her voice for Quinn’s ears only. “There’s no time to radio in a bus. She needs a doctor now. Have Carson process the van. I’ll take his car.”
This isn’t right. It’s not what I want. What I need. I’m the one who designed the drug. I’m the only one who understands it. And the thought of having some young ER doctor fresh out of med school prod and probe me while I’m feeling like this… No way in hell.
I pull out of her grip and clasp onto Quinn’s strong arm.
Sadie blows out a long breath. “All right, then. I guess that settles it.”
I feel Quinn tense beneath my hold. “All right then—what?”
She nods to me. “Avery’s safer with you, anyway. I’ll take the perps in. I’ll handle the paperwork and interrogation.”
“No.” Quinn’s voice is a dark boom. It sends chills skittering over me. “
Carson will handle the perps. You process the van.”
She cuts a slitted glower his way. “What? Are you afraid I can’t handle them?”
“That’s, quite frankly, the very opposite of what frightens me, Bonds.” He levels her with a cool look. My skin flames as something unsaid passes between them. “I know you can handle them just fine.”
After a few tense seconds, Sadie’s the one to relent. The wounded draw of her eyebrows reveals her surrender. “Just… Take care of her,” she says, tossing Quinn’s coat at him. Without another word, she heads off to meet Carson at the van.
As Quinn leads me toward the other car, I say, “You hurt her feelings.”
His low groan isn’t meant to be heard, but I can feel it rumble through him. “It’s complicated.”
I scoff. “That’s an understatement.”
He turns a sharp glare on me. “Whatever you think…” he trails off. “Forget it. We should be focused on getting you out of here. Were you…hurt?” he asks, a hesitant tone breaking through his concern.
I shake my head, wobbling a little as the ground rocks. “No, I wasn’t. But that’s complicated, too.”
He stops abruptly and faces me. His hands cup my cheeks, lifting my gaze to his, and my breath stutters. He angles my head back as he gives me his own, personal examination, his thumbs tracing the contours of my skin.
A shiver races through my body. I move into him, desiring his touch to brand me—to travel lower, exploring every inch of me. Slowly and meticulously. The way I know Quinn would.
I tremble as his rough fingers inspect my neck, the warmth of those hands that just issued a brutal punishment now feel tender—but I know the strength behind them.
A moan slips past my lips, and his hands fall away. “Don’t stop,” I whisper.
With a low growl, he scoops me into his arms and shouts an order at Carson. “Keys. Now.”
I glimpse the confusion on Carson’s face as we pass, but he does as instructed. He digs out his keys from his pocket and tosses them at Quinn. I snake them out of the air with a wicked smile.
