And not with his leg.
Quinn made a promise that next time he would make the effort to Google any place before they went in. With a name like ‘The Man Hole’, you’d think he would have picked it up.
Yeah, not true.
“Your two buddies were very into each other. They came in Friday nights, sang like two drunk canaries, and then headed out hand in hand. They were a cute couple. Then one day, they stopped coming in. I assumed they were transferred to another base. You’d be surprised how many Marines come in here.”
Well, they now knew what two sins the killer was tagging them with.
They had two gay Marines.
“Were there any issues with them?” Nate asked, thinking about Marcus Westerly’s arrest.
“One time, there was a misunderstanding. We had a server that had the hots for this one,” he said, pointing at Bruce. “He ‘accidentally’ sat in the man’s lap and was flirting. The first guy lost it. Punched him out, started yelling at his partner and a fight ensued.”
“What happened next?” Quinn asked, trying not to glance down.
Yep, the man’s hand was definitely on his leg.
Jesus!
What was he supposed to do next?
Could his day get any worse?
“We called the police, and they came in and broke it up. It was the best night we’d had here in a while. It worked out for our establishment.”
“What do you mean?” Nate asked.
Quinn tried to make notes with the man’s hand still resting on his thigh. He really hoped that Nate hurried up with this interview.
Before he could answer, another man arrived at the table to take their orders.
“Three burgers and fries to go,” Quinn stated hastily.
“In a hurry, Detective?” the man sitting beside him asked, grinning wickedly.
When his hand slid up, closer to property that belonged solely to his wife, Quinn stopped it then and there. “Can you take your hand off my thigh? You’re getting too close to my gun, and that makes me nervous.”
Nate stared in horror. He hoped Quinn was talking about his sidearm, not his…
The man started laughing. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Somehow, Quinn doubted that.
Nate wanted out of there too. “Again, Richard, what do you mean?”
“Oh, sorry! I was distracted by Detective Hotness. What I meant is that the one cop came back and is now a patron. We love men in uniform here at ‘The Man Hole’.”
Oh, Quinn didn't doubt that.
“You let the two men back into the club, why?”
“Oh, that’s easy. They’re really good customers, and we knew they were Marines. I can’t imagine they could be ‘out’ while at work, so we felt obligated to let them come here. After all, they’re serving our country. The least we could do is hide them out so they could be themselves.”
“How very patriotic,” stated Quinn.
“I love saluting any man in uniform or out, Detective.”
Nate had an idea. He pulled out the other five photos of the team members, just in case. They still didn't know what sins Jayson Woods and Redmond Churchill were guilty of, so why not give it a shot?
“Do you recognize any of these men?”
He stared at them intently. “No, and I’m really good with faces. I’ve never seen any of them in here.”
Well, so much for the long shot.
Quinn was grateful when the burgers arrived. Pulling out his wallet, he handed the man money. “Keep the change.”
Richard winked at him. “Ahhh, and a good tipper too. Where have you been all my life, cowboy?”
Quinn noticed that Nate was grinning a little too much for his own good. Someone was going to be sorry when they got outside.
That was for damn sure.
“Sorry, Richard, but I’m happily married, and to further disappoint you, it’s to a woman.”
The man definitely appeared disappointed. “What they say is true. All the good ones are straight or married.”
What could he say to that?
“We appreciate your help,” Nate said, standing. It was definitely time to escape.
“Come back and see us any time,” Richard called after them. “We love law enforcement in our establishment.”
As if on cue, all the workers there began cheering in agreement.
Quinn was torn between the humor and horror of it all. He’d just had a gay man hit on him, feel up his thigh, and now he was sure his ass was under close speculation.
What the hell was he going to tell his wife?
Heading to the door, Nate was grateful to escape. “That was mortifying, especially for you.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. I never thought anyone would think I was your bitch.”
Nate laughed at that. “Yippee! I get to be the man in our relationship.”
Now, they could laugh about it. They were almost in the clear.
Once they hit the door, the sunlight assaulted them.
“I’m glad to be…” Quinn began, but didn't get to finish his sentence.
There was the loud telltale pop and explosion of pain in his chest. As his body began to fall, he knew what had happened.
He’d been shot.
Quinton Gaines had experienced this before.
Shit!
The last thing he heard was Nate yelling his name as he struggled to get a deep breath…
As he prayed for life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
W hen Callie’s phone rang and she glanced down, it brought her great pleasure to see her husband’s number on the screen. She’d been thinking about him at that very moment. When she answered, that happiness turned to complete fear as there were sirens and lots of noise in the background.
Immediately, her heart began erratically pounding.
She just knew something was wrong.
“Callie, you have to head to the hospital,” came the familiar voice.
Now, she definitely wanted to be sick. It wasn’t her husband on the phone, but her brother.
“What happened, Nate?” she practically shouted. If he was calling on her husband’s cell, that had to be a very bad sign.
“Just get here. Quinn’s been shot.”
There wasn’t a worse sentence she could ever hear in her entire life. When you were married to someone in law enforcement, there was always that chance that they could die in the line of duty.
Now, Callie was pregnant, had a child at home, and was facing that very nightmare.
Life stopped as she knew it.
Everything around her dropped away as she fought valiantly to not be physically ill.
“Which hospital?” she asked, numbly. It was hard to focus when all that was going through her mind was getting to Quinn. A part of her couldn’t even ask if he was alive, in fear of her brother’s answer.
When he gave her the directions, Callie turned the vehicle around and headed toward the unknown. He’d continued speaking to her, but she hung up on him. At that moment, it was taking everything she had to focus on driving. His words became nothing more than buzzing in her ear.
As she headed there, the entire ride was filled with what if’s.
How could she go on?
Was there life after you lost your soulmate?
What about their children?
Her eyes filled with tears as she pulled into the lot. Glancing around, she found police cars, ambulances, and the Denali that the men had been driving.
Jumping down, she couldn’t handle it anymore. The vicious bile rose up, choking her. Callie always had a strong stomach, but now she was finding the fear and pregnancy were just too much to control.
She tossed her cookies.
Violently.
When she was done heaving, the tears filled her eyes as she popped some gum in her mouth before getting a hold of herself. She didn't run toward the ER entrance, even though everything in her wanted to.
&n
bsp; She could barely force her feet to take the steps needed to cross the parking lot. Each one was lumbering and hard fought. Once she finally reached it, there was no choice but to face what lie ahead.
Never in her life had she ever been that afraid. Even when she lay dying twice, there wasn’t as much terror.
Now, she just wanted Quinn to be alive, and they’d deal with whatever else came along with it.
It was hard not to let her mind wander into dark thoughts. After all, police were killed daily. Callie struggled to keep the overwhelming hysteria bottled up.
She needed to get to Quinn.
Callie had to see him.
Once inside, she found her brother waiting for her. This time she could run, knowing he’d offer her the comfort needed.
“Where is he?” she practically shouted.
“Callie, breathe. You don’t look so good.”
Really? Her life was coming to an end, hinged on that one moment until she knew how badly the love of her life was hurt.
“What happened?” she practically begged. “Where’s Quinn?”
Nate didn't want to see her get more upset. “He’s alive. They sent him for some x-rays.”
She couldn’t focus, but felt him leading her toward the chairs in the waiting room. They had stares as two-armed people took seats.
Apparently, it wasn’t every day that the FBI hung out there.
“Nate, tell me what the hell happened!”
He held her hand. “We came out of the bar and there was one shot. We both hit the ground, and when I came up with my gun, Quinn didn't move.”
“Oh, God,” she muttered, beginning to get sick again, despite having purged everything that was already in her stomach.
“He’s okay. The Kevlar stopped the bullet, but they think he may have broken a couple of ribs in the process. When he hit the ground, he hit his head. He was out of it for a little while. It’s likely he has a concussion.”
She wanted to weep with joy.
If they hadn’t made Callie wear her vest, forcing her to demand that they do the same, this might have a different outcome.
They lucked out.
Tears filled her eyes. “I can’t breathe,” she whispered, trying not to hyperventilate. Today was a scary day for her.
Nate pulled her into his arms and held her against his side. Whispering in her ear, he tried to offer her some reassurance. “He’s okay, and if it matters, Quinn’s mad as hell.”
His gentle words helped her calm down. “I’m so glad you both wore your vests.”
Yeah, when he got up and Quinn didn't, he’d felt the same way.
“The killer is switching it up.”
Oh, she’d noticed. Now, it was even more personal to her. Granted, Maura was her family, but Quinn…
He was her life.
“I’ll catch whoever it is. When people shoot at my husband, it pisses me off.”
Just then, the nurse signaled to them from the desk. Calmly, Callie headed there.
“Are you Detective Gaines’s wife?” she asked, noticing the woman was wearing a gun and badge too.
“Yes, I’m Doctor Callista Gaines. Is my husband okay?” she asked, still feeling a little shaky. She’d gone to medical school and in the back of her brain, she was picturing a splinter of rib breaking off and causing internal bleeding.
She hated being negative, but it was always a possibility.
The woman nodded. “The detective is fine. We just did x-rays, and he doesn’t even have a broken bone. He’s going to be incredibly sore the next few days, and you’re going to want to help him baby that side for a bit.”
“How about his head?”
“He’s got a mild concussion from impact with the pavement, and he’s going to have a bad headache, but he’s already trying to get up and out of here. The detective is more worried about his wife.”
Her eyes filled with tears again. “That sounds like my Quinton.”
“We’ll get his paperwork done and discharge him as soon as possible. There’s going to be a police officer who needs to take his statement first. It’s procedure when someone comes into the ER with any gun related injury. I’ll let you see him first, since if I don’t, he’s already threatened to crawl out of here naked.”
It made her laugh. Yeah, that definitely sounded like her husband.
“Where is he?”
She led her toward the room. Inside was her husband getting cranky with another nurse. She wanted to draw blood, and he wasn’t having it.
“Not happening, sunshine. I was shot, not injected with a disease. I managed to keep a bullet from making me bleed, and I’m not letting you play Voodoo doll with my veins.”
Callie wanted to weep with joy. Quinn hated needles in the worst way. “Big guy,” she said, getting his attention.
Immediately, he tried to get up from the bed, only to stop when the pain struck.
Rushing to his side, she sat beside him and took his face in her hands. Staring into the green eyes she fell in love with, she nearly wept again.
They’d come close on this one.
Too close.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Quinton. I see that I can’t leave you alone for a second.”
He pulled her to his body and sucked up the pain of having her against his sore ribs. The entire time he was there, all he wanted to do was call Callie and tell her that he was safe.
Quinn knew how horrible it was to know the one you loved was hurt. He’d lived it when she was in the hospital after being stabbed. Then there was the pregnancy.
He’d prayed desperately that she wouldn’t become so stressed she’d lose their baby. That would be almost as devastating to both of them.
“Baby, I’m safe,” he whispered. “Are you…” He placed his hand over her stomach, unable to finish his sentence.
She nodded, offering him reassurance.
Callie didn't care if the nurse and her brother were watching her. She kissed him like it was the last moment they’d share on Earth. It was full of heat, love, and need. When her fingers slid up into his hair, she pulled away.
Nate laughed when Quinn’s heartbeat went off the charts on the monitor. Even the nurse glanced over and had to suppress a grin.
“Callista, I love you,” he said, knowing she was scared. His wife was tough, and she looked ready to cry. As she shook in his arms, he only held her tighter to his frame.
“I love you too, Quinn, but this was your one chance to get shot. You aren’t allowed to let it happen for the rest of our lives.”
He laughed. “Here I thought you’d nurse me back to health, not boss me around.”
Gently, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Are you hurting, big guy?”
He was, but now everything felt a million times better. The love and tender touch of your woman could do that.
“I’m sore, but you kissed me and made it all better.”
“Are you sure you won’t let me get your blood?” the nurse asked hopefully.
“Out,” he said, this time a little less angrily. He was in a better mood now that Callie was there, but not in that good of a mood.
She remained by his side, afraid to move away from him. This had been too close for her. “I’m glad you were wearing a vest,” she stated.
Quinn started to laugh, only to hiss in pain. “Shit! Yeah, so am I.”
The doctor in her kicked in. “Where were you shot?” she asked, lifting his gown.
“Hey! Let’s not flash your brother the goods,” he stated, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s been a bad day. I’m sure he doesn’t want to see my junk.”
Nate immediately closed his eyes to block out any peep show that might be happening. “He doesn’t.”
Callie ignored them both, still wanting to check for herself. When she saw the plate sized bruise on his side, already turning vicious colors, she wanted to be sick.
“Oh, Quinton.”
“It’s okay, baby. I’m good. I can’t say the same
for my Kevlar.” He pointed to his vest beside his clothes. There was a vicious hole in the material covering the ceramic plate.
“I may be sick,” she muttered.
Nate picked it up and carried it toward the bed. The bullet was centimeters from breaking through the ceramic plate. It was all that stood between Quinn and dying.
“You’re not leaving here without one on,” she stated. Pointing at her brother, she continued, “Out in my vehicle is another vest. Can you get it?”
He grabbed her keys and headed out.
When he was gone, Callie focused on her husband. “Later, I’m going to nurse you back to health.”
It was hard not to grin wickedly. “I do feel pretty shitty. You may have to spend hours on me, and I do mean on me. I guess we’ll get to play doctor and patient after all, Doctor Gaines.”
Callie giggled before leaning in to kiss him again. Just as their mouths met and tongues began the silky tangle, someone cleared their voice.
“Excuse me. I need to interview you for my official report, Detective.”
They both looked over to find a police officer standing there. Quinn figured his kissing was over until later. “Come on in. I’ll start getting dressed. We need to get back to work.”
The officer entered, pointing at the vest lying on the foot of the bed. “You got lucky.”
“Yeah, I’m aware.”
“What happened?” Officer James Worthington asked, as the man pulled on his jeans.
“My partner and I exited the club. Once outside, there was one shot and then pain. It hit me in the vest and I went down. That’s about it. From the angle of the shot, it came from the alley across from the bar.”
He made notes. “We already checked it out. There weren’t any casings left behind. Your shooter didn't leave a trail.”
“Yeah, I’m not really surprised. We’re working on a serial killing assignment. We must be getting close or this maniac wouldn’t be focused on us.”
Callie didn't like that at all. She hated the idea that their team was now in the crossfire. It made her edgy and scared as hell.
The man continued to make notes. “What were you doing at the local gay bar?”
Callie lifted a brow. That was information they didn't tell her.
Sinner Realized Page 33
