A Desperate Man

by Tia Fielding

  “Yeah. But we’re adults now.”

  “That’s the only plus here that I can see.” She then looked at him shrewdly and asked, “So, how about that kid of yours.”

  Quinn groaned and moved his own mug to let his forehead thump against the kitchen table they were sitting at. “He’s not my kid,” he mumbled against the worn-out wood.

  “He is a human being who has half of your DNA.”

  “How long have you known?” He lifted his head and peered at her cautiously.

  “Oh, since he was a toddler, I suppose. He looked exactly like you, even more than he looks like you now, when he was that age.” She shrugged and then sighed long and loud. “Jimmy’s bound to figure that one out, especially when Caroline has already been making noise about your old friends group hanging out together again.”

  “You don’t think…”

  “No. But we don’t exactly stay rational when someone threatens our loved ones, do we?”

  She had a point there.

  “I’ve told them to leave town if things get to that point. So, we’ll see.” Quinn finished his coffee. Then he looked at Karen and immediately she homed in on how serious he was.

  She looked alarmed. “What? What’s going on?”

  “Do you know anything about Jimmy’s warehouse? I heard a rumor that there’s been…activity there. During the nights.”

  To Quinn’s shock, Karen cussed like a sailor. “I told that boy to behave. That as long as his father is alive, he doesn’t get to make his own rules, but does he listen to his mother? No, no he doesn’t, and he’s going to get us all killed!”

  Taken aback, Quinn just sat there and watched at her fume. She cursed again, then looked at Quinn.

  “I won’t say anything to him, but I might have to find a way to warn Ian. If Jimmy already has plans and is using that warehouse to store something he can’t move in daylight….”

  “Yeah. That was what I thought too when I heard about it. I can’t go talk to Uncle Ian. Jimmy thinks I’m his favorite already. It’s just…stay safe, Aunt Karen, okay?”

  She smiled in that bone-tired way only someone who was well aware of their situation could. “I’ll try my best, sweetheart. You just do your part and keep yourself and your family safe.”

  “You are my family,” Quinn replied quietly.

  “I know you mean well by that and I feel the same, but our bond isn’t hundred percent solid as it was when you were a boy. Not between any of us. So please, stay safe.”

  For a moment, Quinn wondered if this was a warning, but he brushed the thought off. She wouldn’t warn him off so vaguely. She was nothing if not Ian MacGregor’s wife. She was capable of delivering her threats loud and clear.

  Quinn helped her clean the living room by moving the couches for her as she vacuumed, and they talked about everything but the business. When he left, she kissed his cheek and he squeezed her tight, and hoped she could get out of town before it was all too late.

  * * * *

  Quinn sent a message to Day, asking for a status update, but got nothing back in the next few hours. He texted Aaron from his main phone, telling him he wouldn’t be coming over that evening. Quinn needed any information Day could get, and he didn’t want to take his burner phone to Aaron’s. Somehow the idea of spreading his work into Aaron’s life even in a small way like that made Quinn’s stomach churn. It was as if that would put a target on Aaron’s back, ludicrous as the idea was, really. Nobody would know if the phone was there. But fear was rarely completely rational, Quinn had accepted that a long time ago.

  So he fed Shadow when she came calling, and went to bed feeling restless. Even the steady purring didn’t help this time.

  He was jolted awake in the almost-morning hours by his phone ringing. Except it wasn’t the phone he was expecting.

  “Brody?” he asked, instantly alert and ready to move.

  “Uh…I’m not sure it’s anything super alarming, but I got my binoculars here after the last time we talked, and I can see past my fence and into Jimmy’s property, and I’m pretty sure they just unloaded something…different than usual.”

  Quinn rubbed his eyes and then scratched the back of his neck. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because there’s like, close to ten clearly armed guys there. Jimmy has maybe three normally. They’re looking around, like…inspecting things.”

  Quinn cursed out loud. “Okay. Put the binoculars away, Brody. Get some sleep. We don’t want them to spot you, especially if they’re on high alert. Thanks for calling me, buddy.”

  “Yeah, anytime. Talk to you later, dude.”

  Quinn let out a litany of additional curses. Yeah, something was definitely up, and he hoped Jimmy wasn’t keeping actual people in that warehouse. Maybe it was the type of drugs MacGregors didn’t normally handle or even weapons or explosives. Who knew? Quinn just really, really hoped it wasn’t humans, because that would end even worse than any of the other options.

  He couldn’t fall asleep again, and dozed until the sunlight started to filter through the blinds of his crappy bedroom. He left Shadow sleeping, and went to take a shower to wake himself up.

  There was still no word from Day, and he was getting worried. He knew calling Day wouldn’t work nine times out of ten, but that his handler checked his messages every chance he got. The fact that it had now been way, way too many hours without no word was…unsettling.

  Quinn pulled on some clean jeans and was frowning at his ratty T-shirts when his main phone rang again. He picked it up and frowned at Arthur’s name.

  “Arthur?”

  “Quinn, I need you to go to your aunt right now,” Arthur said, his tone firm, yet edged with something Quinn had never heard from him before.

  “What’s going on?” Quinn quickly opened the bedroom window so the cat could leave, and grabbed the closest T-shirt.

  “Ian was on his way to Panaca for some business, he stopped to get gas, and someone shot him as he was using the pumps.”

  Quinn leaned to the closest wall and concentrated on breathing for a few seconds. He could hear car doors in the background wherever Arthur was.

  “Shit, shit, shit…Okay, does Karen know?”

  “Yes, and she’ll need a ride to wherever they’re taking him. They took him to the medical center first to get him stabilized, but I think they’re going to Medevac him somewhere.”

  Quinn pulled on his T-shirt and grabbed all his stuff, including his burner phone, because screw being cautious.

  “Probably Vegas, then.” He dumped the rest of the cat food into Shadow’s bowl, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and went out. “Has anyone contacted Jimmy?”

  Arthur sighed in a telling way. “Not yet, no. And I’ll send Eric to find him and tell him in person. I’m going to…fuck!” The curse told Quinn enough of what Arthur was feeling right then.

  “You need to stay in town. I get it. Be safe, Arthur. If you hear anything, let me know.”

  “Of course. Karen will keep me informed. Take care, son.”

  “You too.”

  Quinn got in his car and started the engine. He needed to go to his aunt and he hoped that by the time he got there, she’d know whether they were driving to Vegas or somewhere else. It would be a three-hour drive there, and Quinn so wasn’t looking forward to that.

  He swiped at his phone and held it to his ear with one hand as he drove.

  “Aaron, listen to me really carefully: Ian has been shot. Shit is about to hit the fan. If I text you at any point and tell you to leave town, you get Charlie and Lennox and start driving immediately. No questions, just go.”

  Aaron was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Okay. Be careful.”

  “I love you.” Quinn disconnected the call before Aaron could answer.

  Chapter 14

  “I love you.”

  Aaron couldn’t shake the words Quinn had spoken to him, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It was that earth-shattering revelation—not the fact t
hat Ian MacGregor has been shot—that kept swirling around in his skull. The two were intrinsically linked, of course, because suddenly the danger Quinn had warned him of was very, very real, and Quinn—who loved Aaron—was stepping straight into it.

  “I love you.”

  It wasn’t even the first time Quinn had said it, but it was sure as hell the first time it hadn’t been part of some moment, or whatever. It felt different. It didn’t feel like Quinn was saying it because he was looking into the future. It felt like the opposite of that. It felt like the sort of declaration a guy made when his whole life was flashing before his eyes.

  The bastard hadn’t even given him a chance to say it back. He’d always liked to surprise Aaron by dropping bombshells here and there. Although maybe it wasn’t just that this time. Maybe he hadn’t given Aaron a chance to say it back because he’d been afraid he wouldn’t. Aaron shoved his clothes in his bag and thought of the strange moments of vulnerability Quinn had shown him over the past week or so. Quinn wasn’t as much of an asshole as he pretended. He never really had been.

  Aaron’s throat ached.

  God. Everything was such a mess. Would he have said it back? Maybe. He didn’t know. He was pretty sure he felt it, that he’d always felt it for Quinn, but there was so much between them—so much history and antagonism and bullshit—that Aaron wasn’t sure he could lay himself bare by saying the words aloud. Quinn had always been the braver one in that way.

  He checked his watch. It was just past seven in the morning. Shit. He needed to get to Charlie’s before she sent Lennox to school.

  He hobbled toward the front door, wincing as he took his weight badly on his prosthetic and pain jarred through his stump. Any other day and he might have gone back for his crutches, but he didn’t have time for that now. He pulled the front door shut behind him and moved as quickly and carefully as he could toward his truck. He started it, and backed out into the street.

  Charlie had grown up in one of the trailer parks around Spruce Creek—a big part of why she’d spent so much time hanging at Aaron’s house—but Aaron remembered she’d said she was now living in the green duplex on Connor Street. He didn’t need more of an address than that. He might have been gone for a decade, but nothing ever changed in a town like Spruce Creek.

  He pulled into Connor Street a few minutes later, at the front of the green duplex. He climbed out of the truck and headed up the cracked concrete driveway. He figured Charlie’s was the one on the right, with the football and the bike lying in the front yard. And then the door was pulled open before Aaron could reach it to knock, and he was left in absolutely no doubt at all.

  The kid staring out at him was all Quinn. Well, the Quinn that Aaron remembered from around fourth grade. He was a little carbon copy of the boy that Aaron had always been aware of growing up, but took until he was sixteen to admit that he truly saw.

  “Hi,” he said. “Is your mom in?”

  Lennox squinted at him suspiciously. “Mom!” he bellowed, without letting go of the door. “Some guy is here!”

  In a suddenly flurry of movement, Charlie was standing behind him, her arms around him. Her stance relaxed as she saw him. “Aaron! What are you doing here? Come in.”

  Aaron stepped inside.

  The house was small and rundown, but it was neat.

  “Lennox, this is Aaron,” Charlie said. “I’ve talked about him before, remember? We grew up together. Aaron, this is Lennox.”

  The kid stuck his hand out, so Aaron shook it.

  “You knew my mom when you were kids?” Lennox asked, tilting his head on the side.

  “Yeah,” Aaron said. “We were best friends.”

  “How come I never met you before now?”

  “Because I moved away,” Aaron said.

  Charlie swatted Lennox on the backside. It was more playful than serious. “Go and pack your school bag and don’t be rude.”

  Lennox headed into what was presumably his bedroom.

  Charlie folded her arms over her chest. “It’s a little early for a social visit, isn’t it? What’s going on?”

  “Ian MacGregor got shot early this morning,” Aaron said, keeping his voice low. “Quinn phoned to tell me. We gotta be ready to go, Charlie, the second Quinn tells us.”

  “Holy shit. Ian’s dead?”

  “No,” Aaron said. “At least, not yet, but I think he’s in a pretty bad way. And I know there’s no such thing as a good MacGregor, right? But at least Ian’s not a psycho. Not like Jimmy.”

  “Not like Quinn’s dad,” Charlie said softly. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. Squeezed. “Okay, so what do we do here? Do I phone into work? Do I take Lennox out of school?”

  “What?” Lennox barreled out towards them. “Am I getting the day off school? What for?”

  Charlie held up her finger. “Go and pack your school bag, Lennox!”

  His face fell. “I thought you said I was getting the day off!”

  “Go and pack your bag!”

  Lennox glowered, looking exactly like Quinn, and then stomped back into his bedroom.

  “Jesus,” Charlie said, and drew a deep breath. She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m supposed to start work at eight and get off after lunch. If we don’t have to go yet, maybe I should go in. I’ll have my phone on me, so you can call me if I need to leave.”

  Aaron nodded.

  “Shit, though. The school already chewed me out last month for signing Lennox out during the day. His asshole teacher hates me. It’d be easier to just to not send him, but I can’t have him spending the whole morning at the diner. Last time we tried that he got bored and went to visit his grandfather.”

  Aaron shrugged. “I mean, he could come to my place? He should probably be with one of us anyway, right?”

  Charlie’s brow wrinkled. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said. “I’ve got an iPad, and a few snacks. He can watch movies or whatever.”

  “Okay.” Charlie looked him up and down. “You haven’t had a beer yet today?”

  Aaron felt a flush of shame. “It’s not even seven A.M.”

  Charlie didn’t say anything.

  “I haven’t,” Aaron said. “I haven’t had one since last night, and I’m not planning on having one if we have to drive out of here today.”

  “Okay.” Charlie held his gaze and nodded. “We hardly know each other anymore, Aaron. You can make your own dumbass choices, but I’m not leaving my kid in the hands of anyone who’s going to put their addiction first.”

  “It’s not an addiction,” Aaron said. “It’s more of a goddamn crutch that it should be, but it’s not an addiction.” He wondered which one of them he was really trying to convince.

  “Lennox!” Charlie yelled. “Change of plans! You’re going to spend the day with Uncle Aaron!”

  * * * *

  Aaron was a kid once, so he figured that it would be easy enough to deal with Lennox. And it might even be enough of a distraction to keep him from dwelling on Quinn, and Ian and Jimmy MacGregor, and whatever was going to happen next. Aaron was used to feeling this kind of sick anticipation. He felt it a lot in Afghanistan, where the waiting sometimes got so bad he almost wished things would go to hell just so there was something to do.

  Pain shot up his leg as he led Lennox inside the house.

  What was it Mom used to say? Careful what you wish for.

  “This is a cool house,” Lennox said, dumping his backpack on the floor. “It doesn’t even look like anyone lives here.”

  “Nobody has for a while,” Aaron told him. “My parents used to own it before they passed away. I just came back to fix it up and sell it.”

  Lennox’s gaze took in the unpainted walls, rough bits of wallpaper glue still sticking to it where Aaron had stripped the paper away. “Are you finished yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then why are we leaving?” Lennox asked. “I heard you and Mom talking.”

  Aaron snorted. Yeah, he wa
s definitely Quinn and Charlie’s kid, wasn’t he? Troublemaker and busybody all over. Kid hadn’t stood a chance of being born polite and discreet. “That’s something you’ll have to talk to your mom about.”

  Lennox chewed his bottom lip for a moment, and then said, bluntly, “Are you my dad?”

  “Jesus!” Aaron almost stumbled. “No, I’m not.” He fought to soften his tone into something that didn’t sound like panic and rejection. “Why would you ask me that?”

  Lennox shrugged. “You were Mom’s friend before I was born, and you’re the only one who’s ever come to our house.”

  His tone made it sound like he wasn’t even interested, but he’d been interested enough to ask, hadn’t he?

  “I’m not your dad,” Aaron said, settling himself down on the saggy couch. “Though you seem like a pretty awesome kid, so I’m happy to volunteer as your uncle.”

  Lennox stared at him for a moment, as though making a silent judgement. Then he shrugged and flopped down next to Aaron on the couch. “Okay.” He was silent for a moment, staring hard at Aaron’s right foot. “What happened to your leg?”

  Aaron raised his eyebrows. “You can tell it’s fake, huh?”

  “It is?” Lennox’s eyes widened. “I thought so!”

  Aaron pulled the leg of his jeans up, exposing the prosthetic foot and leg. “Yup. Everything below the knee is fake.”

  “You’re like a pirate,” Lennox said, and then grinned when he saw the titanium prosthetic that vanished into Aaron’s shoe. “Or a robot! That’s pretty cool!”

  Aaron’s smile widened. “Sometimes it’s pretty cool, yeah.”

  What the hell else was he supposed to tell a nine-year-old? That it hurt like fuck most of the time still? That he sometimes wished he’d died instead because at least then he wouldn’t be in pain? They were ugly thoughts to share with a kid, and they were ugly thoughts to have to begin with, because Aaron knew, rationally, that he was glad to be alive. It was just that it was sometimes hard to remember that hour by hour, day by day when his whole body ached and flashes of excruciating pain shot up from his knee to his hip and back again.