Edge

by Brooks, Anna

Goddamn, that hurts. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. “Wes—”

  “Congratulations, though.” He takes a step back toward the door and puts his hand on the knob. “You got what you wanted.” He opens the door and steps in the hallway. “Don’t leave this fuckin’ room, Quinn.”

  I stare at the closed door and sink to my knees. Tears don’t come even though my eyes are burning.

  My hands shake, and my neck loses any strength it had, causing my head to fall forward.

  God, what did I just do?

  Wesley

  I walk to the end of the hall and stop in front of Damien. “She’s in there. Don’t let her leave.”

  “When’re you coming back?”

  “Need some time.” I’m not leaving her for good. I don’t want to leave her at all, but right now, I need some fucking air.

  He raises a brow, though he doesn’t question my pissed-off vibe. “Roger.”

  “You’re lead until I say otherwise.”

  I can tell he wants to ask because he obviously knows there’s something more between Quinn and me. But he simply nods, then crosses his arms.

  I jog down the stairs and walk out the front door without looking back. One of my guys gives me a chin lift as I pass, and I march straight to my Hummer. I have no clue where the hell I’m gonna go; I just know I need to get away from her and that ridiculous bullshit she just threw at me. I slam the door hard enough to break the window and jab my key in the ignition, but I can’t bring myself to start the damn engine.

  She’s jealous and insecure about Eva when she doesn’t have to be. I wish she trusted me to do right by her, and the fact she assumes she knows what I need to do pisses me off. She pisses me off to no end, but fuck… I can’t leave her right now. I don’t want to ever leave her, but especially not now, when I know deep down, she needs me the most. I just can’t.

  Whatever happens between us is gonna happen, but I can’t leave her.

  “Shit.” I jump out of the driver’s seat, and as I’m turning to go back to the house, I catch movement that has my blood boiling.

  I press myself flush with the brick, then peek around the corner.

  Motherfucker.

  In all the years of doing this, I’ve never had a client assaulted by an assailant on my watch. And the fact that he’s already gotten to her once… I have to swallow puke back down my throat I’m so disgusted right now.

  He has her. On her fucking balcony. I press the button on my earpiece. “D, he’s got her on the fucking balcony of her bedroom. No visible weapon but she’s not making a sound or fighting.”

  “Copy.”

  The sound of Damien trying to get in her room is in my earpiece, and I can faintly hear it through the open doors that lead to her balcony. I aim my gun at the man who has her, but it’s too fucking dark, and she’s too close. I can only see shadows. She’s struggling now but not screaming, and my guess is because he’s got a knife to her. I hear the door to her bedroom crash open and jog closer, staying hidden. If he sees me, he’s gonna feel cornered, and I don’t want him taking that fear out on her.

  This guy is crazy. Unpredictable.

  Damien commands him to drop his weapon, but instead of doing that, with Quinn in front of him, he brings back his fist and clocks her in the side of her face. I flinch and feel that in my gut. The entire weight of her small body sags, and I bite back the roar that fights to get out.

  He pushes her at Damien, who has no choice but to catch her, and then he leaps over the railing, and I take off. My boots dig into the grass, and as soon as I get to where he jumped down from, he’s already almost to the driveway. I pause to shoot at him, and his body jerks, but he keeps running, vanishing around the corner.

  “East through the yard, he’s jumping in a white van, unmarked.” I shoot at the tires, and one blows, but he doesn’t slow down. Then I shoot at the window, anything to try to get this fucker to stop, but I run out of bullets. One of Royal’s Escalades tears down the street after him, and I retrace my steps backward and double my speed to get to her.

  I take the stairs three at a time and skid to a stop outside her bedroom. Damien is next to her with his arm around her and her face in his chest. “She okay?”

  “I think so.”

  She drops her bandaged hand off her face, and it takes an ungodly amount of strength not to go to her. The skin around her right cheek is red and puffy, so there is no way it’s not going to bruise. Her lip quivers when she looks at me through her squinted lids.

  “Let’s get her settled with some ice.” I glance into her room where a couple of guys are on the balcony and decide to put her in my room across the hall. “I’ll get her comfortable. You call the doctor and then find out how the fuck that bastard got on the motherfucking property.”

  “Electric company,” she whispers. “He was dressed like an employee.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know who it was, and I opened the balcony door. It was my fault.” Her voice crackles, and I loop my arm around her waist and lead her into my room and to my bed.

  I had many different visions of her being beneath my sheets, but this wasn’t one of them. She winces when her head touches the pillow. “Why don’t you sit up for a little bit?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t.”

  “You told me not to leave the room, but I—”

  I put my finger over her lips. “Baby, stop.”

  “I’ve got ice. Doc’s on his way,” Damien sticks his head in the room. “Surveillance got a shot of him. We’re running it through the database.”

  “Sit with her.”

  I put my right foot in front of my left when she reaches out and grabs my arm. Looking over my shoulder, I raise a brow at her. “What’s up?”

  “Are you coming back?”

  The answer comes out before I have a chance to even think. “I never left.”

  Damien hands her the ice pack, and I close the door behind me where Brenden is waiting for me in the hallway.

  “Rule number one.”

  “Fuck off.” I point at him. “Nobody but Doc goes in that room with her and D.”

  “It could be worse,” he calls as I step away from him.

  “What?”

  “Least you’re not fuckin’ the boss’s daughter.”

  I can feel my eyebrows crawl up my forehead. “What?”

  “Royce, man. Erik is pissed.”

  “No shit?”

  “Not like anyone’s really surprised, but still.”

  I open my mouth to say something, then snap it back shut. Then after realizing that little Paisley is grown up enough to be with Royce kind of pisses me off. “He really went there?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Damn.” I shake my head. “Paisley?”

  “Our little girl grew up fast.”

  Ain’t that the truth. She’s like everyone’s adopted little sister, so I can’t even think about her with Royce. My phone vibrates, so I nod at Brenden as I walk away and slide my finger across the screen, greeting Q with a question that’s really more of a demand. “Who is it?”

  “Terry Kind. Stepson to the housekeeper Beverly Kind and one all-around weird fucker. Mother died when he was ten. His dad called the cops on him when he was thirteen because he shot their golden retriever’s puppies. All eight of them. His dad remarried Beverly when he was fourteen, then his dad died three years after that.”

  “Jesus.”

  “I’ll run a background, find out as much as I can.”

  “Appreciated.”

  “Where are you at? What’re you doing?”

  “My job. He’s losing patience. And him having her again tonight and not being able to take her is just gonna make it worse.” So I need to find him and end him for good.

  Chapter 12

  Quinn

  “Hey, wake up.” Wesley’s voice comes through the nightmare, and I open my eyes.

  “Sorry.”

  “All good
. Go back to sleep.”

  He didn’t even sit down next to me or push the hair off my face. He didn’t gently run his knuckles along my cheek or kiss my forehead. Dammit. I fucked up. I knew it the second he walked out of my room. I knew it before the words even came out of my mouth.

  He’s done nothing but keep me safe and rid my life of the burden of living under blackmail and betrayal. And I break up with him. Because I’m stupid. But mainly because I’m scared. I’m scared of everything right now, and he’s the only thing that makes it better.

  “Wes.”

  “Go to sleep, Quinn.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, but it comes out as a sob.

  He stops at the door, his back to me, and says, “Me too.”

  I know I’m losing him. My own stupid insecurities and moronic reasons are going to make it permanent, and I can’t have that. “Don’t go.”

  His fingers fall off the knob, and he rests his back on the wall, then slides to the floor. He’s only a few feet away, but he might as well be in another state. “Go back to sleep,” he commands like I’m a dog. Everything with him since he walked out of my room earlier has been robotic.

  It’s like a different version of him, and I don’t like it. Even when we first met, the very first time, he saw through me and gave me more than he is right now.

  With his head resting on the wall and his eyelids closed, I don’t look away from him. I’m in his bed, not for the reason I want, and his pillow smells good. His sheets smell good. His breathing evens out, and as I’m listening to the clock tick, I can’t even begin to fall asleep.

  As soon as he left earlier tonight, I did the exact thing he told me not to. I left the room. I went out onto my balcony, and as soon as I stepped foot out there, that man grabbed me. He held a knife to my throat and talked to himself more than me, which was really scary. It made me realize he’s not in the least bit any sort of rational.

  I didn’t even try to plead with him. I thought that was it. It was going to end one way or another, and my last thought was that I pushed away the only man who I could see a future with. The only one who makes me understand what love feels like.

  But then the door to my bedroom shook, and the next thing I remember was it felt like a rock hitting my head. Damien held me while I came to, and I felt safe, but not like Wes makes me feel.

  After he put me in his bed, he left me in the room with Damien who stood like a freaking statue. Then Wes returned with a doctor. I wanted him close, but he stood back while I was being evaluated. Thankfully, nothing was wrong other than a bruised cheekbone.

  I’ve been so tired lately. I was tired all day, but now, I’m trying to sleep, and I can’t.

  Being close to Wesley has always helped, so I grab the fluffy navy blue comforter and a pillow, then slowly and quietly lay on the floor next to him.

  In no time at all, my lids are heavy. I close them, the weight of everything making me sink deeper into the floor. Wes puts his palm on the side of my face, his thumb soothing as he circles it on my cheek. He scoots down to his side and wraps his arms around me over the blanket and rests his head above mine on the pillow.

  And I fall asleep.

  * * *

  “Morning.”

  I sit up, pushing hair off my face, and blink at Damien.

  “Hi. Where’s Wes?”

  He smirks, knowing there’s more to us than just professional. When I asked Wesley what everyone would think about him taking me to his family’s cabin, he shrugged. I don’t really care. But clearly the guys he works with think something of it.

  “Downstairs.”

  I glance at the door, and Damien clears his throat. He walks over to the windows in Wesley’s room and checks them for something, then nods. “I’ll be in the hallway.”

  “Thank you.”

  As soon as he’s gone, I push the covers away, wondering how I didn’t wake up when Wes laid me back on the bed. A new outfit for me sits on his dresser, and it just reminds me that he’s always thinking about everything that has to do with me.

  Nobody else would do that.

  Quickly changing, I throw my hair in a messy bun and open the door. Damien walks with me down to the kitchen, and I come to an abrupt stop at the sight before me. Damien almost runs into me but grabs my arms to stop himself.

  About eight guys are in my kitchen, all leaning over a table and talking amongst themselves. Boxes of donuts and bagels are on the island, and I search through the men to find Wes. He’s at the head of the table, the only guy standing.

  “Come here, Quinn.” I didn’t think he even saw me, so when he calls my name, I jolt in surprise.

  As I make my way to him, the other guys don’t spare me a second glance. Soon as I get close, he puts an arm on my back. “Give us a minute.”

  They all walk out, no questions asked, some of them grabbing food on their way. When the last guy disappears, Wes pulls out the chair next to him. Assuming he wants me to sit in it, I do.

  He slides a photo over to me, and my hands fly to my mouth as I struggle to suck in air. “That him?”

  I nod, sinking deeper into the chair.

  “Terry Kind. Beverly’s stepson.”

  I feel nauseous. “Are you serious?”

  “Already sent a man over to Beverly’s house. He still lives at home but hasn’t been there since yesterday morning. They’re searching his computer now, but the kid’s a literal genius. He turned down offers from top technology companies when he graduated from high school four years ago. Since then, he hasn’t gone to college and makes a living by driving for Uber.”

  “But I’ve never met him before… I, why would he want to have anything to do with me? Why would he want to hurt me?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but my guess is the first time you told Beverly to bring leftover food home for her son, he took that to mean something more.”

  I rub my eyes and look away from him.

  “This isn’t your fault. He’s sick in the head.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Look at me, please.”

  When I find his intense gaze on me, I have to squeeze my hands together to keep from reaching for him.

  “We’ll get him.”

  “I know. I trust you.” Hoping he understands what I mean, that I trust him with more than just my life; I trust him with my heart and soul, too.

  “Your place is secure. I’ve got Harlan updating your system. Terry might try to breach it, and I hope to fuck he does because I’ll be waiting, but he won’t be able to get to you if I’m at your side. I fucking promise you that. And until we find him, that’s exactly where I’ll be.”

  I pull my knees up to my chest. “I’m not staying locked in here.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “No. I’m not canceling more dates or rescheduling anything else. It’s not happening.”

  “Quinn, don’t be—”

  I sit up and shake my head, pointing my finger at him. “No. I will not be a prisoner in my own home. Living here already feels like a jail. It’s cold, and it’s fake, just like every-fucking-thing else in my life. Everything, everybody, all of it is fake. The only thing that’s real is how I feel when I’m on stage. That’s the only place I can be myself, and he’s not taking that away from me. Not again. I took some time off, but that’s it. No more, not after next week.”

  “I understand you’ve had a lot going on. It’s stressful, and it’s almost too much to deal with, but my job is to keep you safe and—”

  “Your job, Wesley, is to be my bodyguard while I’m on tour. That’s what I hired you for, and that’s what we agreed on. If you won’t do it, then I’ll find—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence, Quinn.” His voice is low and rough, unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. Despite the intense and scary situation I’m in, it makes my mouth water. “You won’t find someone else. Ever.”

  Wesley

  She sits next to me, and this is the first time I’ve had both of my hands
on the steering wheel while we’ve been together. I miss touching her, but I need some time to calm down. I’m pissed she was so easily going to push me aside. I get where her head was at, but still.

  After the quick meeting at her place with all the guys who are on her property or on her person, I told her we had to go to Royal. But before that, I have a quick stop to make.

  “Why are we stopping here, again?”

  I put my Hummer in park and glance around, making sure Damien has my back. “Because I need to talk to Royce for a second.”

  “And you couldn’t call him?” She woke up with an attitude today, and as cute as it is, she’s really starting to piss me off.

  “No, I couldn’t. It needs to be said face to face. I’ll only be a minute, and then we’re meeting Erik and Royce’s dad, Mitch, at the agency.”

  Before she can ask more questions, I hop down. By the time I make it around to her, she’s slid her shades on, covering the bruise on her face. My blood boils seeing that fucking mark. We head up the stairs and stop at Royce’s door where I knock. He lives in the same building as I do but on the complete opposite side.

  “What’s up, man? Hey, Quinn.” They’ve met several times before just from being in the same place at the same time. Before I was given this assignment, I’d seen Quinn around before, too.

  “Hi, Royce.”

  I give him a chin lift, and Quinn smiles but leans her body closer to mine. “Can we come in?”

  “Yeah, of course.” Royce opens the door wider for us, and I have to hold back saying something about Paisley being in his space.

  I don’t miss the shocked expression on his face at seeing Quinn tucked against me. I might be pissed at her, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. That’s precisely the problem. I care too much. She tried to scrape me off last night, but here I am, holding her tight and about to risk my career for her.

  I reach over and hug Paisley with the other arm not holding Quinn. “Hi, Paisley. This is Quinn. Honey, this is Paisley, my boss’s daughter.” I look over my shoulder at Royce. “And Royce’s girl.”