She’d explained all of it to the sheriff during the debriefing, and though normally she would be given desk duty for a couple of days, her presence was required here before an investigation could be launched into the shooting. Into all of what had happened.
The sheriff nodded and waved for the deputies to continue on, her attempt to redirect him successful.
She blew out a breath, wiped the sweat from her brow and forced herself to keep going. Once they found the body, they could go back. She would soak her ankle and worry about her and Quinn’s secret tomorrow.
Hours later, they had trekked and searched the area where she was positive she had dropped one of the thugs.
But no body.
“There’s blood here. You can see that.” She peered up into the canopy where the sun seemed to beat right through the trees. “His friends obviously took him. Didn’t want us to find and identify him and link him to them.”
Gunfire thundered much too close.
Heart pounding, Bree crouched next to a tree. The other deputies and the sheriff all did the same, though none of them could be entirely sure from which direction the shots had been fired.
She sucked in air too hard and too fast. Last night barreled into her mind. Not again. Bree got a hold of her runaway emotions. Be the deputy you’re trained to be.
Ignoring her sweaty palms as she gripped her Glock, she peered from behind the tree.
Who was shooting? Quinn at one of the criminals? Law enforcement at Quinn? She should have told them about him.
She would do that as soon as she got the chance. “Sheriff!”
A shadow moved between the trees in the distance.
Not Quinn.
No—one of the men from last night. They were still here?
That meant Quinn was still here, too.
A deputy exchanged gunfire with the gunman. Machine guns rattled off. That would draw the other law enforcement, for which she was grateful.
She didn’t want to see someone else get shot. Or maybe killed this time.
Bree backtracked to make her way around behind the shooters. She paused between trees and waited. Then continued on.
Hurry—I have to hurry.
Sheriff Garrison. The deputies. They were getting hammered with bullets. Where were the other law enforcement entities?
She slunk behind boulders, crawled over pine needles and through ferns until she was almost behind the shooter with the machine gun. He stopped to reload.
Perfect.
Palms sweaty, heart pounding, Bree positioned herself to confront him. Or shoot him. Her job required her to take someone like this out before he killed. The sheriff and the other deputies probably would have already shot and killed him.
What was the matter with her?
Was she cut out for this job or not?
Arms grabbed her from behind—arms belonging to a big man—and she cried out. He dragged her behind rocks. She caught sight of his brutal, angry, scarred face. He lifted the butt of his weapon.
Bree thought of every evasive move she’d ever learned, but his grip was a steel vise.
A body slammed into him, breaking his hold on her.
Quinn!
He incapacitated the man. Then disabled the man with the machine gun, too.
Quinn rushed to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes. But what are you doing here? I hoped that you’d be long gone by now.” Her heart beat erratically at the sight of him. She was glad to see him. Disappointed, too. He shouldn’t be here.
“I had to stay behind. But you have to leave. You shouldn’t have come. I think they know, Bree. They know who you are to me. Get out of here now before these men get to you. I’ll lead them away from here, I promise. Now get back to your sheriff.”
* * *
Quinn eyed the woods. The trees that could be hiding someone who pointed a weapon at them now. The boulders behind which he’d been hiding himself could now be sheltering someone else. Someone dangerous.
He should go now. He should really go. But what about Bree? She was a target here. What had she been thinking to come around behind the shooter? Had her sheriff directed her? He didn’t think so. Then again, the sheriff and two deputies had endured a barrage of bullets, and Bree was...well, she was trying to be the hero.
He turned around to face her.
“Please, Bree, get out of here. Go back to your sheriff. I’ll watch your back.” He couldn’t just leave her here until he knew she was safe.
Even if that meant revealing his presence.
“Give me a sec.” She grabbed her ankle.
It must still be bothering her. Why had Garrison let her come? Acid burned in his gut.
But what got to him most, the thing that could undo him, was the fact that he wouldn’t always be there to save her. He wouldn’t always have her back. He wasn’t sure he could accept that.
But I have to.
He shook off the craziness exploding in his brain to focus on keeping them alive. He peered down at her, still on the ground. He’d give her a few seconds to rest, like she asked, but the sooner she got back to safety, the sooner he could disappear.
The problem was, Quinn didn’t want to leave her ever again, for a hundred reasons that had nothing to do with her safety. But he also needed to lead these men away as they continued to hunt him.
He couldn’t do both at the same time.
And yet he knew that leading them away would not ensure her safety. They could always come back—or report their findings back to Jones, who could send another team after Bree. His shoulders sagged. He turned and glanced down at her, and this time she got to her feet. He didn’t assist her because he wanted to see that she could do this herself, even if her ankle still bothered her.
Otherwise, he’d pick her up in his arms and march her over to the sheriff himself. A bold thought, that.
He lifted his gaze to look into those heart-melting green, green eyes and lingered there much too long. He pulled his gaze away before he got lost in hers.
His heart pounded with indecision.
With what he shouldn’t feel for her.
Her breaths still came hard and fast from fighting. From dodging bullets. From the heat. From this situation.
He wanted to take her away from all this. To escape the ugliness. Except he was the one who brought it with him, and he could never escape it. So getting her away from it—as long as he was with her—wouldn’t help her at all.
“Bree,” he whispered.
The one word—her name—was met with silence.
Anger burned in her eyes, along with disappointment.
Gunfire in the distance shattered that silence.
Good. The jerks were engaging other law enforcement. That meant they were focused away from Bree. They were probably trying to escape. He hoped they were arrested and made to talk and that the truth would come out about the dirty DEA agent, but that was just a fantasy—these guys probably didn’t know about him.
That’s why Quinn didn’t waste his time with them other than to get his pack back.
Bree hung back and stared at him. What was she waiting for?
He gripped her arms. “Please, just do as I asked. You should never have come back.”
“I... I had to make sure they found the body.”
His heart tripped up. That was her excuse? “They don’t need you for that.”
“I wanted to be here in case they found you. To protect.”
“But Bree, you don’t need to protect me from the law. I’m not a criminal.”
“They’re searching for men in these woods. You have a gun and a pack, they wouldn’t know who you are. I would be here to explain. To tell them the whole truth.”
They had so much history, baggage and emotion between them that it was hard for Quinn to le
t her go. She meant so much to him. Everything.
Which meant he had to convince her that she shouldn’t waste her time on him.
He gripped her arms and pulled her closer. “Get this through your head. I do not need your protection. If anything, you’ve risked my life by forcing me to stay to keep you from getting killed.” Well—that part was on him. It was all so convoluted now. He hadn’t told her about his stupidity in leaving her picture in his pack.
Hurt poured out from her eyes and seeing that look, being the one to put it there, killed a part of him. Stabbed that part of his heart where Bree would always remain. Good. He needed to be done with this, for her sake.
She twisted out of his grip.
“Fine. Have it your way, Agent Strand. Oh, that’s right, you’re no longer with the DEA. You couldn’t stick with them, either.” She gasped, as if realizing she’d said the words aloud. “Oh... Oh, Quinn. I’m so sorry.”
She reached for him. He stepped back. Calloused himself. He should have already been immune to Bree.
“Remember, Bree. Not a word about me. Stevie’s life could be at risk.” And yours, too.
The only problem was, if they found the picture of her, Bree’s life was already in danger.
And that meant that no matter what he told her, he couldn’t leave.
NINE
Moonlight streamed through the bedroom window, keeping Bree awake. She usually preferred total darkness when she slept. But not tonight. Too much fear threaded through her thoughts. Too much apprehension coursed through her veins.
Despite her efforts to relax, her mind wouldn’t shut down. Despite her utter exhaustion, her heart rate remained high.
The central air kicked on, startling her. Bree sat up in bed. She peered around her room. No one was here. All was quiet. Except with the AC running, she couldn’t listen so easily for anyone who might be stalking the house.
Quinn. He’d done this. He had her scared to death that those men from the wilderness would come for her or Stevie.
It’s going to be all right. No one is coming. You’re safe.
She spoke to herself the same way she would talk to Stevie. Like a child.
If only the law enforcement contingent had been able to get their hands on those men, but the criminals had slipped through their fingers. Even the guys whom Quinn took out had disappeared. Granted, the wilderness region wasn’t the easiest place to search.
In the meantime, she would remain alert. Hope and pray that whoever was behind these men after Quinn would be brought to justice so that Quinn would be free to live his life without hiding. Free to love. She shook off the errant thoughts, knowing they would lead her to the what-ifs again when it came to Quinn.
He wasn’t the guy for her. Had never been and never would be.
And he was the reason she was living in fear.
Her gun rested next to her on the side table within easy reach. She grabbed it and tugged it closer. Tucked it under her pillow, with her hand wrapped around the grip.
Would she ever get back to normal? Physically, she knew she would be okay. Bruises and scratches were already healing. And her ankle wasn’t bothering her too much. But her psychological state was a whole other matter.
Who was she kidding? Despite her sheer exhaustion, she couldn’t sleep for the violent images of the last couple of days. They filled her mind, setting her on edge. How did she get rid of those images?
Especially images of Quinn.
What a strange way for him to come back into her life—except he wasn’t really in her life now. He never had been permanently in her life, even though he’d given her that impression on multiple occasions.
Pain swelled in her throat. She forced her emotions back. She absolutely wouldn’t long for him like she’d done at least twice before. If only she could get over him completely. If only she could find someone else.
Her door creaked open.
Bree yanked the weapon from her pillow.
“Aunt Bree?” Stevie’s small voice wrapped around her heart.
Oh my... She could have shot Stevie. What was wrong with her?
She quickly hid the gun away, composed herself, then sat up. “Come in, sweetie.”
Her brother’s five-year-old boy crept into the room, cuddling a black teddy bear. He must have turned on the hall light because it shone into her room. His hair was mussed and his big brown eyes sleepy. He rubbed them as he crawled up onto the bed with her.
She hugged him to her, cradled him on her lap. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“I had a bad dream.”
Wrapping her arms around him, she hugged him even tighter. “I did, too.”
He freed himself from her embrace enough to look up in her face. “You did? What was yours about?”
Of course she couldn’t tell him about her experience. “I’d rather hear about yours first.”
“I dreamed a creepy man was looking through my window.”
Bree stiffened. The thought sent chills over her.
“Auntie Bree? What’s wrong?”
She finger-combed his hair. “Nothing, punkin. I’m just tired. How about you stay in here and snuggle with me? Maybe then we can both get some sleep.”
After settling Stevie in her bed, she slid her gun from its hiding place beneath her pillow. No way could she sleep until she’d checked the house.
Stevie had probably had a dream. But she could picture him seeing the man in his window while he was half-asleep and believing he’d dreamed it. If there was even a chance that was the case, she had to check it out. Stevie had no idea of the reasons Bree was on edge. So she couldn’t ignore his dream. What if it wasn’t a dream at all? “Stay here, sweetie. I’ll be right back.”
Safe and sound in her bed, Stevie was already asleep. She smiled to herself. Bree would need to check on Dad, too, but didn’t want to wake him. Leaving the hall light on, she continued quietly toward the kitchen, limping only a little.
It was only a dream. No one was looking in Stevie’s window. She repeated the words to settle her nerves.
Regardless, she had to check.
The door to his room was ajar. His bedsheets crumpled. She crept into his room, avoiding the moonlight, and peeked out the window. No one was out there. And even if they had been, they wouldn’t still be in that spot.
Next stop, Dad’s room. Bree made her way there. She could hear his snoring through the walls. She quietly opened the door and glimpsed inside.
All seemed perfectly normal and secure. It wasn’t like they had left windows open because of the unusual heat.
Now to check the rest of the house. When she was finished, she’d get a glass of warm milk to help her sleep. She wasn’t sure it would actually work, but Mom used to tell her it would.
Still, no milk until the house was cleared. And it was only a dream. Everything was fine.
Bree kept her gun at the ready—after what she’d been through, she couldn’t possibly discount Stevie’s dream no matter what she told herself. She had to be sure her family was safe before she would let her guard down.
She cleared the living room, dining room, kitchen and breakfast nook. At the back of the house, she found a curtain billowing. The window was open. Fear strangled her but there was no time to be paralyzed. She kept her wits about her.
Had Dad left it open? She was sure she had checked and locked them up before going to bed. Had turned on the alarm system, though, as a deputy, she knew there were ways to disarm any alarm if a criminal was so inclined.
Goose bumps crawled over her. She closed and locked the window. Gripping her weapon, she lifted the gun, held it at the ready and whipped around. Was someone in the house?
Bree cleared every room again like she’d been trained and found no one. She breathed a sigh of relief, but still remained on guard.
Forge
t the milk. She just wanted to snuggle Stevie. Hold him close and keep him safe.
Back in her room, she found Stevie still sleeping soundly. She needed to protect him, so she kept her gun close, but hid it away where she could reach it easily on the other side of her—opposite where Stevie slept.
Then she closed her bedroom door.
A hand pressed over her mouth.
“You care about the boy, so you won’t scream,” the gravelly voice whispered. “Understand?”
She vehemently nodded as tears surged. She held them back. She wouldn’t show weakness.
“Where is it?”
She shook her head. Where was what?
He slowly removed his hand and came around to face her, backing her into the corner. She’d seen his face now. That was never a good thing. She’d seen the faces of the men on the river, too, but this—somehow, she knew seeing this man’s face was much different.
He gripped her arms, hurting her. “Where is the money he stole?”
“Who...who stole? What are you talking about?” Fear gripped her. She had no idea what this man wanted and feared if she couldn’t produce it, then he would kill her or hurt Stevie.
“Your friend Quinn. He stole money from my boss.”
Quinn, a thief? The news stunned her. Not the best time for her to find this out. “He didn’t leave it with me. I don’t know anything.” Please believe me! She’d just given away that she knew Quinn, but it would have been pointless to try to deny it.
The man pursed his lips. “I believe you. You wouldn’t risk the life of the child.”
Stevie’s life? The man would take his life? Quinn, what have you done?
“But you know where he is.”
She shook her head and hoped he believed her on that, too. “I don’t know anything about him. I don’t know where he is.”
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He didn’t believe her this time. “Find him. Lead me to him or else I’ll hurt someone you love.”
“But how—”
“He stole from the man I work for. That’s a death sentence. I won’t return without Quinn Strand. You have twelve hours to find him.”
Running Target Page 8
