At least for the moment.
He would take advantage and press on, keep moving quickly to put as much distance between them as he could.
Unfortunately, he’d have to go far and wide to lead the men in the wrong direction for when they tried to track him. He had to lead them away from his hidden camp in the thickest part of the woods. Then backtrack. Just the thought of it made him want to groan.
One thing had become painfully clear—despite his best efforts, six months here and he had let himself get out of shape.
“Quinn.” Bree’s soft voice whispered against his ear unexpectedly, wrapped around him in a way that made his heart skip a beat.
He shook it off.
Man, he’d missed her. He’d missed her every time he left.
“Quinn.” Louder now. “You have to stop.”
Not yet. He’d keep pushing forward until he dropped. He could keep going forever to save her.
His muscles screamed. His lungs burned.
The past was chasing him down. He couldn’t run far enough or fast enough.
And now Bree was caught in the middle.
She struggled against his back, trying to scramble down. Maybe she’d been hurt and he was being a brute not listening to her pleas to stop. He slowed, sucked in air like he couldn’t get enough. Eased her off his back.
“Bree—” gasp, gasp “—are you—” gasp “—okay?”
He bent over his thighs. Just. Couldn’t. Get enough air...
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” she asked softly.
“No.” He peered through the monocular again for heat signatures. He saw none he’d attribute to humans. Only wildlife.
But that didn’t mean they weren’t closing in.
He waited until his breathing calmed. “Just trying to...get you...to safety.”
She pressed her palms against his cheeks. Close. Too close. “Thank you. I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you. But don’t give yourself a heart attack on my account.”
He put his hand against hers on his cheek, then stepped back. He didn’t need her getting so close. “I’m not going to have a heart attack. Don’t worry. But getting you to safety is my responsibility now.”
“I don’t know how or why, but you rescued me. Those men are after me and now they’re after you, too. I’m sorry for that.”
“You’re wrong.”
It’s my fault. All my fault...
But now wasn’t the time to tell her.
A branch cracked. He stilled. Could be trees clacking in the light breeze.
Or someone closing in that he couldn’t see yet. If that was the case, then he’d rested too long.
Though he didn’t want to lean in close enough to feel her warmth, he did it anyway. “Time to go.”
“Are you sure?”
“I can go a hundred miles.” But he hoped he wouldn’t have to.
Without saying more, she climbed onto his back again. Trusting him? Nah. He had never given her a reason to trust him. In fact, if anything he’d proven to her that she couldn’t trust him.
At least with her heart.
Nor did he trust himself with her heart.
THREE
This night was turning into pure torture. She couldn’t do this anymore. After holding tight to Quinn’s back, locked in one position with no opportunity to shift or reposition, her body ached as if she’d been riding a horse for hours. She couldn’t see where they were going and feared at any moment a bullet would burrow into her back. She knew that Quinn tried to be careful, but small branches slapped her cheeks and arms from time to time. She kept her eyes closed to protect them, but there was nothing much she could do for the rest of her. And bugs—she had to have acquired a spider or beetle or two during their trek. Just the thought of creepy-crawlers had goose bumps rising on her flesh.
Of course, Quinn was going through far worse. So how did she explain that she needed to rest? Their lives were far more important than her need to ease her aches and pains.
Except she simply couldn’t hold on anymore.
As if reading her mind, Quinn slowed down, then stopped and nearly stumbled. He leaned over to allow her to slip off. She stepped on her ankle then fell. He caught her before she hit the ground and held her steady.
“Are you okay?”
“I forgot about my ankle. I’m good.” She reached for the nearest tree trunk to prop herself against. She could stand with something to lean on as long as she didn’t use her injured ankle. The pain had been forgotten, but the throbbing came back strong now. She stretched her back and arms, surprised at how stiff she was.
Then she took in their surroundings. She thought Quinn had stopped from sheer exhaustion, but now it appeared there was more to it. The trees were thick around them but in this spot, they had thinned out, allowing moonlight through in the moments when fast-moving clouds weren’t drifting by. Vines and ferns grew up and around what she thought might be a structure against the side of an incline. A ridge, maybe.
It was beautiful. Like some kind of fairyland. She must be beyond exhausted to be thinking like that now.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“It’s my home. At least, it has been for the last six months.”
“Oh.” Wow. “Isn’t this a wilderness area?” As a deputy who worked near national parks in the county, she understood that a wilderness area was federally owned land, meant to remain undeveloped without structures or improvements or habitation. Hmm.
“Don’t worry. We’re right on the edge of the wilderness, but this is private property—it’s a friend’s deer lease. He hunts here during deer hunting season. It’s about as far as you can get from civilization with a camper.”
Oh, now she saw it. A camper was hidden beneath the vines and greenery—well, silvery in the moonlight. “How did he get this camper up here? There aren’t even any roads.”
“None that you can easily see. That’s why I like it.” Quinn glanced through the woods. “Let’s take this conversation inside. Get fueled, hydrated and rested. I don’t know how long we have.”
Quinn assisted her forward, moving vines out of the way until she could make out an actual door. Then she recognized the camper as a small Casita travel trailer. He’d lived here for the last six months?
She definitely wanted to know why.
Inside the camper, he turned on a light, dimming it enough that it would be imperceptible from outside. Electricity and water would be an issue up here but obviously Quinn had that all figured out.
Something crawled over her arm. She yelped and slapped her arm free of the insect.
She glanced around the small space—were they any spiders or rodents?—and rubbed her tired arms. The place was much neater than she would have expected of a guy living alone.
He busied himself at the small kitchen. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You were expecting the place to be trashed out.”
Yeah, well, she’d known him as a teenager. He was no different from her brother... Oh. She wished she hadn’t thought of Steve, because it brought that same image to mind—Quinn holding her dead brother, his friend. The utter remorse on his face. Tears surged in her eyes. And for the first time, she thought about Quinn’s expression as he carried Steve, the devastation he must have felt. Bree had only ever been concerned about Dad and Stevie, and her own loss. Somehow, that now seemed selfish of her.
She pushed the image far from her and tried to calm her nerves. Her muscles ached and she needed to rest—but like Quinn said, they didn’t know how long they had. If those men tracked them here, then they’d have to run again.
She wanted to believe that they’d stop looking, but a persistent sense of unease told her she wasn’t safe. Not yet. Bree couldn’t fathom what had happene
d on the river, or this night of running. Who would have thought they would try so hard to kill her?
Give it up already.
She was so exhausted, all she could think about was closing her eyes, and she hadn’t been the one trekking through the woods with the weight of another person on his back for half the night.
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.
Running Target Page 3
