by CLIFF, J. C.
I stay with her a few more minutes, wanting to make sure she’s okay. I cradle her face as my thumb strokes over her lower lip. Her breathing pattern has smoothed out and it’s steady now.
I know Quinn is waiting on me to help him formulate a new plan, but all I want to do is stay holed-up here with her for however many days it will take to make this right between us. I lean down and tenderly kiss her soft lips, murmuring solemnly over her lips, “I was serious when I asked you to be my wife.” Before I pull away from her sleeping form, I give her one more chaste kiss. I have a feeling it will be a cold day in hell before she lets me get this close to her again.
I let out a sigh and begrudgingly leave her side. Out of habit, I shut the bedroom door on my way out, and then make my way to the large dining room table where Quinn sits, patiently waiting for me. His elbows rest heavily on the wood table, and his fingers are threaded together. He looks deep in thought, as he seems to stare right through me.
I pull out a chair from the table and sit down directly across from him. I have crazy adrenaline running through my veins right now, and I can't seem to sit still. My right leg begins to bounce up and down underneath the table as the aftermath of the most fucked-up morning of my life begins to sink in. I look up into my friend’s eyes to see worry etched across his face.
“Travis, I need to look at the back of your neck,” Quinn states with concern. Shit, I had forgotten all about it. I swipe the palm of my hand over the abrasion at the back of my neck, and then look at my hand. “There’s no fresh blood; I’m good right now. I can clean it up later.”
Quinn scoffs at me and shakes his head. “Do you even feel pain?” he asks with wonder. I’ve always had a high tolerance for pain, but right now, my adrenaline is going a hundred miles an hour, so I don’t even feel the wound.
“There’s too much other shit to settle first. I don’t have time to feel pain. The first thing we need to figure out, being that we’re in Hyde County, is how the fuck they found us.”
Quinn shakes his head. “I don't know, but it did take them a good while, didn’t it? All of our signals are meant to be boosted for output only. We’re out in the middle of bum-fuck Egypt, so there's no way in hell they could've spotted us with incoming signals.” Quinn then leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, and then asks me a point-blank question. “What about Mitchell? Could he have known about this place?”
I shake my head with earnest conviction. “No. I’m positive, but at least now I know where his loyalties lie. The motherfucker tried to kill me, Quinn.” The very thought that I could’ve died today out in the woods just pisses me off. “I want blood. When this is ironed out, I want to be the one to deliver due justice to him.”
Now I know for certain it was either Mitchell or one of his men who T-boned me in Charleston. I couldn’t be any more pleased that it was Quinn who took him down. The way he was spraying bullets overhead, I knew then Mitchell had his own agenda. He couldn’t have cared less about sparing Jules’ life, and that infuriates me. She’s an innocent in all of this. She didn’t deserve that.
“Look, let’s just handle one thing at a time, okay? Stryker and Chase will put him in a safe place until we’re ready to deal with him, but right now, we need to be concerned with a second attack. We need to get the upper hand and increase our defenses.”
“Not until Jules is out of harm’s way, Quinn,” I sternly argue back. I feel my blood pressure spike at the thought of her getting mixed in with more of the crossfire.
Quinn leans forward as his eyes crinkle at the corners, his features giving off a serious and determined look. “We don’t have a choice. She’s part of this now.” He shakes his head, frustration evident. “And just where is out of harm’s way, Travis? She’s the reason why all this exists. They want her, and even though we’re all under fire, she’s safer with us. Not to mention, you’d go fuckin’ nuts worrying about her every second she wasn’t in your line of sight, and you know it.” I stay silent, but nod, acknowledging him. He’s right. “Your attention would be anywhere but on the task at hand. You’d be thinking of her the entire time, worrying if you weren’t there to protect her they would somehow find her and recapture her.”
I'm so fucking fired up it's unreal. I have a million strategic war scenarios spinning around in my mind on top of trying to figure out how I’m supposed to make my relationship with Jules work. Memories from my past try to creep into my thoughts, and I have to remind myself I physically have her within my grasp. I will not let her slip through my fingers. I can’t. I let out a long-winded sigh and run my fingers through my sweaty hair. “I knew they were coming, but I didn't think it would be this soon,” I admit.
“We all knew they would eventually come. You can’t beat yourself up about that, but you need to get your head in the game.”
I look at Quinn disbelievingly. Has he gone crazy? “What the fuck? I am in the game,” I state offensively.
Quinn holds up his hands, palms out, trying to calm my temper. “All I’m saying is you need to prioritize all the shit running through your head right now. I see the wheels spinning in that mind of yours, Trav. We all know you’ve been down this road before, and I don’t need you getting sidetracked. You need to keep the main thing the main thing here, and that’s seeing to everyone’s safety.” He holds up his index finger to make a point. “Since we still have the upper hand, the next thing on the list is to finish those bastards off. Once all that shit is done, then and only then can you worry about your Sleeping Beauty.”
I place my elbows on the table and rest my head in the palms of my hands, trying to think. I’m letting my emotions rule over me while trying to prevent history from repeating itself. I need to think about our next step, but I come up empty-handed.
No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to focus on what that next step should be. I keep thinking about the possibility of Jules being captured and getting placed back into the wrong hands again. Growing more frustrated by the second, I act on impulse and reach into my back pocket to pull out my cellphone.
“What are you doing, Travis?” Quinn asks with growing suspicion.
“Getting ready to stir some shit, you know, poke the tiger,” I say while typing a number into the phone, one of which I know by heart.
“Travis?” Quinn questions again, with uncertainty lining his voice.
“Relax. I’m just going to personally let the bastard know his mission failed. I’m sure he’s pacing the floor right now wearing a hole in the carpet, hoping against hope Mitchell has some good news for him.”
I look up after dialing the number, and smirk at Quinn as I put the phone to my ear. I actually feel a little proud I have the opportunity to get under his skin. I want to be the one to personally let him know I still control this situation, and I want to listen to him lose it as he realizes she’s slipped from his hands and into mine.
Picking up on the second ring. “What’s the news?” he asks, his voice coming through loud and clear, and I can hear the eagerness in his tone. He probably thinks I’m one of his men calling him to touch base, especially since my cellphone is encrypted.
“Nick.” I breathe the word like thick venom, and somehow he doesn’t miss a beat.
“Travis,” he says silkily, “I can hear you're still alive. Such a shame.”
“You should know by now it would take more than just a few of your cronies to take me out.” I pause for effect and smooth out my voice. “I’m surprised at your lack of judgment, Nick. Three men, really? Is that the best you’ve got?”
“I want her back, Travis,” he barks out, cutting to the chase.
“If you would've known how to treat her from the get-go, you might have never been put in this predicament,” I taunt.
“Somehow, I doubt that, Travis.” He hesitates for moment, the silence deadly between us before he asks, “What do you want?”
I shake my head even though he can't see me as smug arrogance lines my voice. “I already have what I want, Nick.�
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“You bastard!” If Nick could breathe fire, my ear would be singed right now. He’s that pissed.
“I’ve been called much worse,” I calmly state.
“You're not going to keep her. I’m all over your ass, Travis, and I’d quit while I’m ahead if I were you. Turn her over, and I might spare you,” he warns.
“I don’t need sparing, and I believe since I've already got her, the finders keepers and all that shit applies.”
He chuckles menacingly into the phone. “Why are you really calling, Travis? Did I stir up your little love nest? Are you upset you got blindsided by my men? I'm one up on you, and I plan to keep it that way.”
“Nope, not upset at all. Give me your best shot, Nick,” I say nonchalantly. “Oh, wait, you already did, and you failed.” I then think of Jules and how she almost got shot down. “By the way, just so you know, tell your dipshit men to aim at me next time, and not Jules.”
“What? Was she shot?” he asks with sudden panic.
“Near misses, Nick,” I spit out angrily. “Of course the men you sent couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.” I know the bastard isn’t going to tell me how he found us, so I don’t even ask. At minimum, however, I want to take a jab at him, get under his skin, and let him know more than just his mission failed. “You know, a real man would’ve come after his woman, but instead you sent a team of dysfunctional dumbasses. What does that say about you, Nick?”
“You have to know your days are numbered, Travis,” he hisses.
“Everyone's days are numbered, Nick. Some have larger numbers than others. Since your men fight like pussies, I’ll live to be a ripe old age.”
I hear a string of curses come through the receiver. He is so pissed off on a rant that I hold the phone away from my ear and his voice fills the room. Quinn shakes his head at me in amusement while he starts to chuckle.
“Travis! Travis! Do you hear me?!” Nick bellows. “I want her back, dammit!” I hear the desperation growing thick in his voice as he adds, “Name your price.”
A grin forms across my lips as I taunt Nick again. “Mmmm…you can’t put a price on her pussy. It tastes too sweet to give back or sell. Not to mention, her pussy has been molded to fit my dick perfectly now, just like a glove.” Then I hang up on him abruptly, happy I was the one to get in the last word. He would’ve only had a string of curse words for me after that anyway.
The sardonic smile dissolves from my lips as I look at Quinn in all seriousness. “Well, I stirred up the hive for us. We’ll be drawing them out now, ‘cause he’s madder than a nest of wet hornets, and after that, I have a feeling he is going to unleash every last resource he has on us.”
Quinn leans back in his chair and runs his fingers through his hair, and then interlocks his fingers, holding his hands at the back of his head. I can tell he’s formulating something in his brain as he stares at the ceiling. Since I’ve pissed Nick off, I feel a little better now and can think clearer.
Quinn speaks toward the ceiling as he tells me, “We need to get back to my house.”
I shake my head at him. “Negatory, man. It’s not safe to go to your place just yet. We have to find out how they found us first. Otherwise, it will be like leading a kid to candy again.” Quinn’s house is north of Raleigh, a little ways outside of the city limits. He lives on a few acres of land in a rural area, with a shitload of armory. Plus, he has more electronic resources there than the government. “I say we head into the city first, stay in plain sight. We need to be around a mass number of people and try to mingle in until we can figure out how he’s tracking us.”
Quinn drops his gaze from the ceiling to mine, and then wrinkles his forehead in thought. “Yeah, let me make some phone calls and get some backup in place. I know a hotel we can hunker down in for a day or two until we get this figured out.”
“Do you think we got them all?”
“As soon as you texted me from the cabin, I made my way toward the front drive and saw there was only one vehicle. Figured on three men. So yeah, we got them all. I took down one man who was standing guard at the vehicle, and of course I got Mitchell, and then you took the other.”
“Correction, Jules took that man out all by herself.”
Quinn’s neck snaps back in surprise with both eyebrows lifted high. “Damn. That’s one hell of a woman.”
I give him a sly grin. “That’s why I told you not to piss her off.” Now that I’ve calmed down some, I can see it was best to have sedated her. What she just went through was some serious action. “It’s probably for the best you knocked her out. I think she was on the hard and fast road to a major meltdown.”
Quinn opens his eyes wide in mock surprise as he sarcastically comments, “You think?”
“My concern is when she wakes up.” I pause, shaking my head, and let out a sigh. “She's never killed anyone before, and I’m seriously worried how she’s going to process all of this. This whole scenario is going to change her, Quinn. We all know she’ll never be the same after this, and she won’t want to hear that.”
Quinn's lips form a thin line before he speaks. “That it does, my friend. That is does.” He quietly contemplates his thoughts for a minute before he speaks again, and when he does, his eyes pierce mine with utter resolution. “We have your back on this, you know? All of us will do what it takes to help pull her through the aftermath.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, looking at Quinn through the eyes of Jules. The corners of my lips lift in a smirk as I eye him up and down. I guess he does look like Rambo, in all his getup and gear with war paint on. It’s something I’m so used to seeing, so I’ve never thought twice about it. I can only imagine the thoughts that ran through her head at the first sight of him. The thought strikes me funny, and I start to chuckle.
“What are you laughing at?” he asks skeptically.
I shake my head at him and tease, “Rambo. Of all the names for someone to come up with, she comes up with Rambo.”
He chuckles himself, and then shrugs. “Hey, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“So what’s next?”
“Given the fact they know where our vicinity is, they’re probably sending out more men as we speak. Once Stryker and Chase get here, we can head out. Chances are excellent we won’t have a tail,” he pauses, “for now anyway. At least we’ll have a head start. I’m parked about a quarter mile out.” He jerks his chin up and to the left, as if I know where he’s indicating.
“Lovely…just fucking lovely.” Sarcasm drips from my voice as I think about having to carry a very sedated Jules for a quarter mile. “You just had to drug her, didn’t you?”
He holds his hands up in the air in protest. “You just agreed it was a good idea.”
“Mmmm, I think we all need to see what this Rambo is made of. I believe you should be the one to carry her ass out to the truck,” I stand up and reach across the table to give his arm muscle a manly squeeze, “since you’re the one who drugged her and all.”
A smooth smile spreads across Quinn’s lips as he rags on me. “Why, Travis, I do believe you’re getting old and feeble on me. Why don’t you just admit it; you’ve gone soft and can’t handle carrying the extra baggage.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I let go of his shoulder and he starts to laugh.
Jules
My eyes flutter open, and confusion overcomes me. Where in the hell am I? I rub the sleep from my eyes, narrowing them to focus, and I realize I’m in another friggin’ hotel room. A cold chill runs down my spine as bad memories roll through me, my pulse picking up speed. I catch the scent of Travis and my stomach dips. I’m not caught; I’m with Travis. A huge gust of air leaves my lungs in relief.
When I peel the blankets back, I raise a brow. My legs are bare. Looks like Travis had put me in one of his oversized t-shirts, and thank God I’m in my panties. The clock illuminating on the nightstand reads seven. Is it morning or night? I can’t tell. The curtains are drawn shut, and I’m not about to look behind the
m and tempt fate.
I make my way to the bedroom door, still in a disoriented stupor, and step out into the carpeted hallway. The sound of men’s voices carries from down the hall. It looks as if I’m in a large hotel suite. I follow the voices and find myself in front of a table full of men. I stop in my tracks. I don’t recognize any of them except for Stryker and Quinn.
All of the men abruptly stop talking, turning around to look at me as if I just interrupted a secret meeting. I spy a huge spread of breakfast food stretched out across the table, and at that moment, I know I’ve slept into the following day. Quinn is sitting off to the right, and I narrow my eyes on the bastard for drugging me like that.
Someone clears their throat, and out of the corner of my eye I see Travis scooting his chair away from the table. He hastily makes his way toward me as he speaks in a gruff voice, “Guys, give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.” He reaches out and gently takes me by the elbow, and leans in to whisper in my ear, “Babe, you can’t come out dressed like that.” Oh, crap, I didn’t even realize that. Thank goodness his shirt comes down to my knees.
He ushers me quickly back down the hallway, out of sight. When we reach the bedroom door, he pauses to ask, “Can I get you some coffee or something to eat?” I look into his eyes and they seem a little off, like he’s hiding something.
“I am thirsty,” I softly reply.
He leans his head out the bedroom door, then shouts out toward the dining room, “Stryker, need you to bring Jules some OJ.”
He guides me into the bedroom, and sits down on the edge of the bed. He pats the empty space beside him, silently telling me to have a seat. I sit down on the edge of the bed with him, and for some reason, I feel unsettled. Maybe because there is an army of men out there and we’re on the run, but Travis is acting different.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
