by Roxie Noir
Then it exploded. Quinn’s mouth opened but no sound came out as she rode the crest of the wave, bucking her hips desperately, each thrust feeling as though it might tear her in half. Hudson’s tongue never stopped, even when she felt Julius put his hands on her hips and push her down, hard, as he released himself inside her.
At last, her orgasm subsided and Hudson sat up, grinning. Quinn slid off of Julius, landing on the soft grass, certain that she’d never been more completely spent in her entire life. Hudson sighed and then flopped onto his back, a few feet away.
Quinn promptly drifted off, her eyes closing almost against her will, one hand still on Julius’s belly. She was too sweaty and tired to move closer to snuggle properly.
In her dream, Quinn was riding on the back of a grizzly bear, her hands gripping the soft fur, the bear running through the forest at full speed.
She woke up with a jerk. For a split second she had no idea where she was, but then the events of the past few hours came rushing back to her. They’d all moved, and Hudson was curled against her back, his massive frame spooning her, Julius snuggling against her from the front. The sky above the clearing was no longer the perfect, pristine blue that it had been earlier — now it was pale and dusky.
“Hey,” she said.
Both the men opened their eyes slowly, yawning and stretching, Hudson scratching his belly lazily.
“It’s getting dark,” she said. “We should go. The library’s probably been closed for hours and my parents are wondering where I am.”
“Let them wonder,” Julius said. “We’ll take you out for dinner.”
“I want to,” said Quinn. “I just don’t want them to find out that I’ve been with you.”
“They can’t do anything if you’re not there,” Hudson said. “Make your escape tonight.”
Quinn tugged on a tuft of grass, still warm from her body. The air was starting to have a slight chill to it, and she shivered.
“Maybe,” she said.
“Think about it over dinner?” Julius asked. He sat up, leaning back on his hands.
Part of Quinn wanted to jump on him again.
You’ve got other things to do besides have sex with shifters, she reminded herself.
Her stomach growled, and both men laughed.
“Okay, fine,” she said, with a smile that she couldn’t help.
11
Hudson
Hudson and Julius decided to take her to Gino’s, one town away from Granite Valley, and home of Endless Meatballs.
“They’re also really good meatballs,” Hudson explained as he drove the SUV down the mountain. Julius had been slightly grumpy at letting him drive — Julius really, really preferred to drive — but finally relented.
Quinn sunk in her seat a little as they drove through Granite Valley on the way to Big River, but no one seemed to even glance their way.
“Probably having a war council,” Hudson explained. “Going over the plan a couple more times before tomorrow’s big roll out.”
“Shouldn’t we be doing that?” Quinn asked. “And what’s a war council?”
“We’re meeting at 6 a.m. tomorrow, and it’s... a term used for stuff like this,” he said.
You probably shouldn’t have called it that, he told himself. I’m pretty sure regular people call that a ‘meeting.’
“Just a term,” Quinn said, sounding unconvinced. “A term that totally normal people use.”
Hudson sighed and looked in the rear view mirror. Julius was smirking at him.
“You may as well tell her,” he said.
There was an unspoken end to that sentence that only Hudson heard: you may as well tell her, if she’s our mate.
For another moment, Hudson let himself hope that they could keep her.
“I was in a biker gang,” he said. “A war council is the meeting you have before you go take down another gang.”
He could practically feel Quinn’s eyes running up his arm, looking over his tattoos.
“Wow,” she breathed.
Now they were out of Granite Valley, driving through the dark woods on the highway.
“Was it a bad biker gang?” she said. “Like, criminal?”
“Very,” Hudson said.
“Are you still in it?”
Hudson laughed. “No. I got out a couple years ago.” He paused. “Actually, when I met Julius.”
She turned around and looked at Julius in the back seat.
“Were you in a biker gang?”
The question caught Hudson off guard and he nearly doubled over laughing, making the SUV swerve on the road, the thought of Julius in a biker gang the best thing he’d heard all day.
In the rear view mirror, Julius didn’t find it quite as funny, but he was laughing, too.
“No,” he finally answered, still grinning. “I was in college, then law school, then the public defender’s office.”
“Only one of us had the misspent youth,” Hudson said.
He was glad to see the lights of Big River coming up. He wasn’t sure he wanted Quinn to know just how misspent his youth had been.
“What stuff did you do?” she asked, her eyes wide.
Hudson could tell she was far more impressed than afraid. Most people thought Easy Rider before they thought of a bunch of drug-addled, angry men who were doing the only thing they really knew how to do — break the law.
“We ran guns and drugs,” he said. He saw Gino’s up ahead, its neon sign inviting. “Guns from Mexico, drugs from there and from the Inland Empire. Meth, mostly, some other stuff.”
He turned into the parking lot, cut the engine, and turned to look at her.
“I learned how to fire all sort of guns, fix bikes so they ran like new, and in a pinch, I think I could cook meth. So at least I got one usable skill.”
She frowned slightly.
“Fixing bikes,” he said with a smile. “Come on, I’m starving.”
Over endless meatballs, Quinn ended up telling them all about her brother George. How he’d fought with her parents, how they’d totally cut him off. How she’d finally called him earlier that week.
“How can people just cut off their families like that?” Julius said, stabbing at a meatball. “I mean, your own child. Just because they disagree with you.”
Quinn shook her head, swirling pasta around her fork. She was almost full, but the guys had been right. This place was delicious.
“I don’t know,” she said. “They’re very dogmatic.” She paused. “They’ll flip when they find out I’m with you.”
Despite himself, Hudson smiled, then covered it up by eating another meatball. A look of consternation crossed Quinn’s face, like she hadn’t quite meant to say that. After all, they hadn’t talked yet about what this was.
“You know, you can stay with us if you want,” he offered. “If you think your parents or their people might do something to you before tomorrow.”
“We’ve got a guest bedroom,” Julius said.
And a bed that can fit three, thought Hudson. He didn’t say it out loud, though.
Quinn shook her head slowly.
“I know they’re awful,” she said. “But I want to see them one last time before... it happens. Especially because they’re probably going away for a while. Hopefully.”
Both men just nodded.
12
Quinn
As they drove into the motel parking lot, Hudson killed the lights on the SUV. Quinn appreciated his attempts to keep their entry on the down low, but she was still nervous about it.
What if someone saw her with the two shifters? Especially these two shifters?
“Pull around back,” she said, slinking down in her seat as Hudson steered around the building.
All the lights in the front rooms were out — the rooms where her parents were staying.
Please let them already be asleep, Quinn thought. She desperately wanted to avoid a confrontation with them over where she’d been, and despite herself, she
hoped that they’d been too wrapped up in planning Julius’s assassination to wonder where she was.
Then she instantly felt guilty.
Hudson pulled into a parking space in the middle of the parking lot, facing the row of rooms, and killed the engine.
“Okay,” said Quinn, taking a deep breath and digging her room key from her pocket. “See you guys tomorrow, I guess.”
The thought made her nauseous. The next time she saw them, she’d be waving a hateful sign and desperately trying to figure out who the shooter was.
Hudson opened his door and got out of the SUV, followed by Julius. Outside the car, they both wrapped Quinn in bear hugs.
Literally, she thought, half-smiling.
“I’ll be fine,” Julius said, her head buried in her chest.
“Shouldn’t I be comforting you?” she asked, her voice small.
“I’ve got Hudson for that.”
“You’ll be fine,” Hudson rumbled.
Then there was a gunshot, so loud it felt like her head was splitting open.
Quinn whipped her head around for a split second and she looked toward the sound, for the shooter. Her body froze, and she felt like her brain had frozen, too.
What’s happening? was the only thing she could think.
Then Hudson and Julius both tackled her at once, pushing her behind the SUV as another bullet whizzed past, but not before she got a look at the man with the gun.
It was Vince.
The quiet guy, who was balding but had a ponytail and had a tattoo on his arm of the United States, the three shifter states blacked out.
“Stay down,” Julius growled. “Hudson, you got a gun?”
“I know him,” Quinn whispered.
I should have guessed, she thought, the shock running through her system. He’s always weirded me out.
“Of course I don’t have a gun,” Hudson hissed. “I have a pocketknife, because I’m not a criminal anymore.”
“Fuck.”
Quinn could hear Vince walking along the motel wall, closing the angle between himself and the SUV. She could feel the adrenaline spiking through her veins, her hands starting to shake.
We have nowhere to run, she thought. What are we going to do, circle the car until he gets bored?
Then Vince called out.
“Quinn, sweetheart,” his voice rang out. “Get outta there, will you?”
Quinn’s stomach turned over, and she thought she might vomit up her dinner.
Lights flicked on in the motel, but no doors opened.
“Go,” Hudson said.
“I’m not after you,” Vince called again, his voice like fingernails on a chalkboard. “You can escape, no problem.”
“Go,” said Julius.
“I’m not going,” she said, her teeth clenched. “He’s not supposed to shoot me, I can keep you safe.”
Vince moved again. In a couple of seconds, he’d be able to see them, huddled behind the car, and then what?
“He’s going to shoot you,” Hudson said, his eyes roving the empty parking lot, looking for any escape. “He’s not your parents. He doesn’t care about you. Go.”
There has to be some kind of weapon, Quinn thought frantically, looking down at the three of them. Something we can do.
“Can you throw a pocketknife?”
Hudson just shook his head.
What else? Belts, wallets, my purse, keys...
She blinked, holding her breath.
Keys.
Vince won’t shoot at me, she thought. Right?
Quinn didn’t let herself think any more. She grabbed the keys from Julius’s hand and pulled herself up and into the SUV before either of them could stop her.
She’d gotten them into this mess, and she was going to get them out.
Please don’t let him shoot me, she thought. He knows who I am, after all.
She could see Vince through the windshield, and watched him hesitate, the gun slightly lowered.
“That’s right. Just come over here and then I’ll take care of these animals that took you.”
She slid into the driver’s seat, jammed her foot on the brake, and started the car, her palms slippery with sweat
Vince frowned.
“Quinn?”
The passenger door flew open and Hudson’s face was there, half furious and half terrified.
“What are you—”
Quinn gunned it. She screamed her best war cry as the SUV flew forward, straight toward Vince.
He stood there, shocked. At the last second he shot, but the shot went wide, smashing through the windshield and missing Quinn herself.
The last thing she heard was the crunch of metal against the brick of the motel and then a long, horrible scream.
Then everything went black.
13
Julius
“Fuck!” shouted Hudson as the car flew forward, yanking his hand along with it. “What the fuck is she doing?”
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Quinn steered the car right at the shooter, and Julius could hear her screaming as she went.
Both of them took off after her.
No, thought Julius. No, no, not Quinn, please not Quinn...
There was one more shot, the sound of glass, and then the SUV hit the wall of the motel, pinning Vince.
“QUINN!” Julius screamed, yanking open the door of the SUV. His screams mingled with Vince’s, but Julius couldn’t have cared less about the man.
Her face was bloody, her nose broken, the airbag fully deployed.
But she was breathing.
The windshield had a single hole in it, and Julius could see where the bullet had punched through the seat.
On the other side of the car, Hudson had picked up Vince’s gun, checking the ammo and backing himself against the SUV, just in case.
Quinn’s steady heartbeat under his fingertips, Julius felt awful for Hudson for a moment. When he’d gotten out of the Lost Souls, he’d thought he’d never be shot at again.
Motel doors started opening and confused, sleepy people spilled out, murmuring to each other. Someone said they’d called the cops, but most took one look at Hudson and backed away.
“He had the gun,” Julius said, desperately, pointing at the pale, bloody Vince. He was still breathing in ragged gasps.
Then, two faces came around the corner of the building, took one look at the small, unconscious form inside the car, and began screaming and running.
“Quinn!” her mother shouted, galloping forward in her nightgown, Quinn’s father close on her heels.
“Oh, my god, what have you done to her?” she shrieked, her voice pure panic. “No, no, my baby...”
She shoved Julius away from Quinn with a surprising strength and tried to take her daughter in her arms.
“What did you do?” she shouted hysterically.
Julius couldn’t take it any more.
“What did we do?” he asked, furious. He pointed at Vince, bloody and still pinned in front of the car. “He tried to shoot me, and your daughter saved my life.”
She wasn’t paying attention, just standing on the running board, cradling Quinn’s head in her arms and crying.
“My baby,” she said, over and over. “My baby, my baby...”
Her father went up to Julius and shoved him in the chest, and Julius put his hands up in the air. He wanted absolutely nothing more than to beat this man to a pulp, or better yet, shift and tear him into a thousand pieces, but he forced himself to stay calm.
Let the law do its job, he thought.
Arthur Taylor shoved him again.
“You think you can use young girls to do your dirty work, you animal?”
Julius growled.
Then, just in time, two police cars came speeding around the corner and came to a full stop. Seconds later, an ambulance arrived.
Two cops got out and shouted.
“Put the gun down!” they called to Hudson, who very calmly raised his hands and put the gun on
the ground. Seconds later, he was against the SUV, getting handcuffed by one cop as the other called for more backup and another ambulance.
Everyone was screaming. Vince was still screaming, Quinn’s parents were screaming. A baby was crying somewhere in the motel, and Quinn was still unconscious.
“Arrest these men!” Quinn’s father shouted.
“My baby!” wailed her mother.
Finally, there was nothing Julius could do but watch.
It was almost two in the morning before he got finished giving his statement to the police, sitting in a small interview room, drinking cup after cup of shitty coffee until his hands nearly started shaking from the sheer force of the caffeine mixed with his total exhaustion. He gave the same answers over and over again, for hours, until finally, the officer questioning him stopped, looked down at his notes, and sighed, rubbing his temples.
He kept asking about Quinn and Hudson. They told him Quinn was alive and in the hospital.
They wouldn’t say anything about Hudson.
“All right, I think that’s everything,” the officer said said.
“Can I at least go sit in the lobby?” Julius asked. “These lights are giving me a headache.”
It probably wasn’t the lights, though one over in the corner was flickering. It sure wasn’t helping.
“Not just yet,” the officer said apologetically. “I gotta talk to the boss first.”
“Come on, Rick,” Julius said. He knew everyone at the station by name, after all. “You know where I live.”
“Give me ten minutes,” Rick said. “Sorry.”
It was twenty until he came back and poked his head in the door.
“You’re free to go,” he said. “We’re not charging you with anything.”
“Where’s Hudson?”
Rick’s face went carefully blank. “They’re still talking to him,” he said.
Julius put his head down on the table for a moment. He’d managed to stay calm and cool for the five hours of questions, but this was enough to nearly make him give up. He needed Hudson to go free, and he needed to get out of the police station, call the hospital, and see how Quinn was. She’d woken up as the medics loaded her into the ambulance, but he was still worried sick about her. She was only human, after all.
