“Thank God,” she breathed through the hysteria rising in her throat, and turned the key, bringing the powerful engine to life. After throwing the big truck into reverse she stomped on the gas. Someone shouted her name. She changed gears and flew down the driveway, blinded by tears she never shed.
She swiped them away with the back of her hand, then gripped the wheel, and pushed the gas pedal down. The truck shot forward, fishtailing on the gravel road. She never should have gone with Quinn. Never should have gone to Azbakastan. If she hadn’t, Ryan would be alive, her friends would be alive, and none of them would be suffering.
More tears streamed down her cheeks as she took a hard right, remembering the route Quinn had taken. Everything was wrong. She shouldn’t be here.
Gut-wrenching sobs choked her as she brought the truck to a skidding stop in front of Quinn’s house. She fumbled with the door handle and nearly fell on her face when it opened. Leaving the door wide open, she ran into the house and straight to her bedroom where she slammed the door. Quinn’s borrowed bloody shirt lay on the floor, tainted with Ryan’s blood. Her own blood.
Memories of what they’d done to her flooded in. The pain. Her screams. The times she couldn’t scream. The missile hitting the Land Cruiser. Scott taking a bullet.
Oh God.
Unable to process, Avery pummeled the fabric with her fists. Over and over she swung until the pain in her arms overshadowed the pain in her heart.
A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, picked her up off the ground and swung her away from the bed. Still aching inside, she kicked and fought to be free. The arms held tight, body taut.
“Let me go.” Her heel landed a blow and sent a jolt of pain up her leg, which only frustrated her more.
“Avery, stop.”
Quinn’s gruff command penetrated the emotions pounding inside her. Avery deflated like a balloon and slumped in his arms, chest heaving. Quinn’s chin touched the top of her head, his chest rising and falling in sequence with hers. He still hadn’t put her down; her feet dangled off the ground. The way he held her, tucked against him, made her heart ache even more. Almost as if he couldn’t let her go.
For just a moment she allowed herself to lean on him, letting him hold her close until it felt like they were fused. She didn’t analyze why she did it, or why he let her. Simply let it happen.
Quinn tucked his head into her neck, voice gravelly, his breath hot on her skin. “Goddammit, Avery.”
Mouth dry, she nodded her head in understanding. She didn’t need the words. What was done was done. She couldn’t take it back.
Gently he set her feet on the floor and she winced. They stung like she stood on a bed of glass. Before she could guess his intention, Quinn swung her into his arms and carried her out of the room. She wrapped her arms around his neck, too worn out to fight. Her gaze followed his tanned neck to the strong line of his jaw. His profile was rigid, lines of fatigue bracketing his eyes. So much strength and so much pain. He wore his emotions inside like a warrior. She admired that after the spectacle she made of herself.
Just as tenderly he deposited her on the sofa. Avery rested her head on a pillow and watched him stride into the bathroom and return with a First Aid kit. In silence he lifted her feet, sat on the opposite end and lowered them into his lap. The First Aid kit he opened and set on the arm of sofa.
With utmost care, he removed her socks, then unwrapped the blood-soaked bandages from her feet and discarded them on the floor. Next, he cleaned the soles, his hand warm against her tender skin. Avery studied his profile as he treated her wounds, and regret knifed through her chest. In another time, another place, under different circumstances maybe they could have become friends. Lovers, even. A man like Quinn would definitely have turned her head if she passed him on the street. So different from Tim. Tim was classically handsome, where Quinn was more rugged. After that kiss they’d shared, she knew what she was missing and that only made it worse.
Regret made her look away and stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the darkening sky. Maybe it would rain. Storms always calmed her. She stifled a yawn. The way Quinn’s hands cupped her feet made her sleepy. Her lids grew heavy.
“How did you get here?” she murmured, remembering she took his truck.
“Took a shortcut through the woods.”
Giving in to exhaustion, she let her lids drop. “Did you borrow a car?”
“I ran.”
Her head lolled to the side as sleep gripped her. “Must be a fast runner.”
His grunt made her smile as her limbs relaxed. A warm, humid breeze floated in through the open windows, caressing her skin. She hadn’t slept in days. Not for real. Catnaps in the room when her body shut down out of necessity. Pretending to sleep on the plane so no one would see her misery. The way she felt right now, wrung out and barely lucid, two straight days of uninterrupted slumber sounded like bliss.
“I’m sorry I took your truck,” she murmured, slipping into sleep without hearing Quinn’s reply.
Chapter Six
The ache in Dani Fitzpatrick’s heart would not subside. She didn’t want to think about her deceased fiancé and would strangle the next person who offered a shoulder to cry on. The Wolff brothers meant well, but the more they hovered the more she felt like screaming.
Nate and Evan followed her home, making sure she didn’t drive her car into a tree or something crazy like that. In truth, the thought occurred to her as she pulled into the driveway of the house she and Ryan had waited a year to finish.
She tapped the brakes to let the brothers know she was fine, watching them in the rearview mirror as they drove slowly past. They would patrol her house all night, checking on her without disturbing her, per her request. The Wolffs were loyal to a fault and more obstinate than anyone she ever met.
The five brothers only made her heart ache all over again because they all shared the same tall, dark good looks and made her see Ryan every time she looked at them. Especially Evan. He reminded her the most of Ryan. They both shared the same easy smile and laid-back manner.
Stifling a sob, she slid wearily out of the car. The pressure in her chest built as she climbed the steps to the covered porch. She kept her gaze focused on the door and not on the matching handcrafted rocking chairs she and Ryan had bought at an antique shop last weekend. The door closed with a soft snick behind her and she jumped when the sound echoed through the quiet house.
Without turning on the lights she followed a path through unpacked boxes to the curving staircase. Her hand slid along the polished banister as she ascended. Being a bodyguard wasn’t the only thing Ryan had been good at. A smile touched her lips as she remembered how he’d worked day and night sanding the solid wood just so she wouldn’t get splinters. So their children wouldn’t—
Pressure built in her throat and she ran the remaining steps to the top, as if she could outrun the memories. But they followed her into the bathroom. Slamming the door closed to keep them out she flipped on the light and threw the medicine cabinet door open. She fumbled for the prescription bottle. On occasion she had bouts of insomnia when Ryan was out of the country. Rachel, the town doctor and her friend, had prescribed a light sedative to help her sleep. Tonight it would be her way of making the pain stop. If only for a couple hours.
She twisted off the cap and poured two into her hand, double what she normally took, and popped them into her mouth. She swallowed them dry and drew in a deep breath. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink.
She lifted her head and stared at her reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the white-faced, broken woman.
Ryan would never approve of her taking sleeping pills. It was why she never told him and hid them behind her night cream. He didn’t understand what it was like to be the one left behind to worry every time he walked out the door. To be the one sleeping alone in the bed they normally shared, counting the minutes until he returned safe and sound to her arms.
He would never know.
****
Across the lake, Ellen Wolff lay in bed, wrapped in her husband’s loving arms, staring at the ceiling of their bedroom while he slept next to her. The boys had gone home upon her insistence, but Bailey refused to leave. Her children tended to hover, God bless them, but their concern sometimes smothered her. She needed time to process, to come to terms with this nightmare.
She wasn’t a naïve woman by any means. She knew what her sons did for a living. Watched them grow from rough and tumble boys into brave, strong service men. They shielded her unnecessarily from the nature of their business, and they were good boys for it, but she knew they provided more than a bodyguard service and that it put them in danger every time they took a job.
The chance of losing one of her sons in the field was always a possibility. Always in the back of her mind, but she came to terms with it. Her boys were dedicated to protecting life and she would support their decision.
Or so she believed.
Tears floated in her eyes and she blinked them back. She’d thought there were no more tears left this night. Her youngest son was gone. How did she come to terms with that? No amount of preparation, of acceptance, could change that. There was so much to do. A funeral to plan instead of a wedding…
A pair of strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. “Hey, there,” Frank murmured against the top of her head. “I got you.”
Ellen let her tears fall silently on his chest, her hands gripping his pajama shirt, for fear he would slip away too.
****
Quinn wrapped his hands around the steaming cup of fresh brewed coffee and strode onto the back deck. Taking a sip, he gazed out across the glassy surface of the lake. A loon called to its mate in the distance. The water rippled near the shoreline where an insect took flight. Low, overhanging clouds broke up the early morning sky. A storm approached, making the air sticky and heavy. He’d thought it would break last night, but it was a slow mover.
The door slid open behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at Kell, who looked like hell warmed over. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and scrubbed his face with the other as he came to stand beside Quinn at the railing.
They stood in silence staring over the lake to where the roof of Ryan’s monstrosity of a house poked through the treetops. Modern contemporary, Dani called it. All Quinn saw was a wall of glass and glossy concrete with furniture and white carpet a person couldn’t walk on for fear of getting it dirty. But Dani loved it and that was all that mattered.
“Avery asleep?” Kell finally asked.
“For a few hours now.”
Kell sipped his coffee. “Took some mettle doing what she did last night.”
Quinn watched a bald eagle take flight from the treetops and soar across the dark sky. Mettle wasn’t something Avery Marks lacked. He had yet to face the repercussions of the stand she’d made with his family. Despite what she thought, Ryan’s death lay on his shoulders, not hers. He’d made the promise to Dani. He had taken lead on the mission. The decision to send Ryan to protect her belonged on him. He got his brother killed and Avery couldn’t change that. Although no one outside his family ever stood up for him like that.
None of his family except for Kell knew Avery and what she may have endured in Azbakastan. Hell, he didn’t even know. What they saw last night was the start of Avery falling apart. His family didn’t know what it cost her to make that stand, the guilt she carried for him. And, because of it they wouldn’t understand where it came from. Dani was a forgiving woman with a tender, soft heart, but he wasn’t certain she would forgive Avery, no matter what the truth. Grief needed an outlet. He’d planned on being that outlet until Avery stepped in and made a mess of an already bad situation.
Quinn rubbed his forehead, fatigue pounding at his temples. “She shouldn’t have done it.”
“Too late for that. Gotta let the pieces fall now.”
“Fucking mess.”
“That it is,” Kell murmured, sipping his coffee. “I’m headed over to Mom and Dad’s. Bailey’s gonna need to decompress. Evan’s checking on Dani. Not even going to tell you where Chris is. You sleep any?”
“No.”
“Me neither.” Kell drained his cup. “Better get over there.” He crossed the deck and paused at the door. Quietly, over his shoulder he said, “Every one of us would have done the same thing, Quinn.” He slipped through the door before Quinn could respond.
He watched the eagle soar over the lake, wings spread. Didn’t matter if Kell was right. Bringing Ryan back wasn’t an option, but he could clear Avery’s name. She didn’t need the added burden of Ryan’s death. What the hell was she thinking, blaming herself anyway? Damn fool woman.
The smooth surface of the lake beckoned him. Whenever something ailed him the cool, dark water served as a retreat. Or playground, depending on his mood. As kids he and his brothers spent many long, hot summers swimming and horsing around in the lake. Not to mention late night skinny dips with some of the local girls.
He looked to the east where his parents’ pontoon sat secured to an ancient dock. They were supposed to put in a new one this summer, but none of them had found the time and the Fourth of July wasn’t far off. Wolff Securities had been busy all year, one job after another. Most of the time two running simultaneously. With six brothers and Savat it wasn’t hard. A couple of Nate’s SEAL buddies were thinking about signing on when they retired. Expanding wasn’t something he’d considered, but with their popularity he wondered if maybe he should. When he’d started the business four years ago he hadn’t expected it to go off like it did.
A blood-curdling scream rent the air. He sprinted inside the house and threw open Avery’s door. She sat in bed, flailing blindly at an unseen enemy. Face deathly white, her eyes were open but unseeing. Still wearing the clothes from last night, she looked tiny and frail.
This is what they did to her.
He crossed the room and sat down on the bed. Avery jumped, striking out at him. She missed by a mile, but the terror etched on her face told him all he needed to know.
“Please, no more,” she said frantically.
Quinn inched closer, covered her shaking hands with his and lowered them to her lap. “Avery. It’s Quinn.” He spoke softly as to not scare her.
“Quinn?” she whispered. “Is that you?”
“It’s me. You were dreaming. It’s all right now.” As he spoke he moved closer.
A breath shuddered out from between her lips and her chest heaved. “I—I thought I was in that room. With him.”
“You’re in my house, Avery. You’re safe.”
Her head bowed. “Will you…stay with me? Until I fall back asleep.” The words came out soft, hesitant, as if she didn’t want to ask. Humble, even, and it tore at his chest.
“Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her and lay back on the pillows, holding her close. She curled into him, her body trembling.
After a few minutes he asked quietly, “Who did you think I was?”
A shudder went through her and he tightened his grip. For a moment he didn’t think she would answer, but then she spoke.
“The man who gave the orders. The leader. I only saw his face once. Before I stepped off the ledge into the river. But I know it was him.”
Another tremor shook her.
Quinn’s gut tightened. “You think you saw Ramil Diakameli?”
She clung to him. “I’ll never forget his face.”
Mind reeling, Quinn tucked her head into his shoulder and stared into the darkness. This changed everything. If Avery had gotten a look at the leader of the IPA, something no one had ever done, then she was in more danger than anticipated. Hell, if word got out she could identify the FBI’s most wanted terrorist she’d be taken into Witness Protection and never be heard from again. No wonder Shea was so anxious to get to her. She wanted credit for taking down the most wanted terrorist in the w
orld.
Why did Diakameli allow her to see his face when he took so much care to avoid detection? What was it about Avery that made him change his M.O.?
When Avery’s breathing evened out, he glanced down to see she had fallen asleep. Her arm held tight to his waist, her head tucked into his shoulder. She carried her pain deep inside, suffering silently.
Quinn rubbed his dry, gritty eyes. With Avery nestled against him, the soft sound of her breathing combined with the gentle breeze blowing off the lake through the open window, his body began to relax, his eyelids drooping. Maybe he would take a short nap. Just a few minutes until he had to face the day…
****
In that moment between sleep and awake, Avery snuggled up to the hard body next to her. Her hand smoothed over the bumps of his abs and up to his muscled chest. She frowned slightly. When did Tim get so muscular? So broad?
Her eyes flew open. She studied the rugged profile of Quinn Wolff, asleep next to her. Memories invaded the peace of waking, replacing it with despair. Pain knifed through her chest as she remember the circumstances that brought her here.
She couldn’t stay. No matter how good it felt to be in Quinn’s arms.
Quinn saved her life. She wanted to remember him like that. Not with loathing in his eyes. Staying would only remind him of what he’d lost.
The best thing she could do for the Wolff family was leave quietly so they could begin the grieving process.
And so she could try and piece her life and business back together without her friends.
Empty inside, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his strong jaw. Then disengaged from his arms and slid her stiff, achy body out of bed. With one last regretful look at Quinn she walked away.
In the kitchen she called a cab, using memorized numbers from a credit card she hadn’t taken with her to Azbakastan. Then, without a backward glance, did the best thing for everyone.
Maximum Risk Page 7
