Noble Prince (Twisted Royals, #4)

by Sidney Bristol

  Owen straightened, his professional smile in place, and kept a hand on Quinn’s shoulder.

  “Hi, I’m Owen King.” He offered his hand to Karen.

  “Hello, Mr. King.” Karen’s smile was fawn-like. “These are Quinn’s friends, Molly and Anna Beth.”

  Friends.

  Ha.

  More like evil step sisters. They had their good days. They could be nice when they wanted to be. It wasn’t natural though. They were each consumed by their work, which Quinn got. Mom had been much the same way, but she’d treated people with respect. Unlike the duo staring at Owen like cats in heat.

  “Nice to meet you all.” Owen managed to remain polite, wonder of wonders. “I need to talk to Quinn in private, if you don’t mind?”

  “We’re all family here.” Karen wrapped her hands around the handle of her cane, smile dialed up to a ten.

  “Owen’s a detective,” Quinn said. There were probably legalities about working the case of the woman he’d slept with, but Karen didn’t need to know that.

  “I still need to ask her a few questions. In private, please?” Owen had on a winning smile but Quinn could almost peel the fakeness of it off his face. Odd that now she could classify his smiles.

  “Oh, dear.” The nurse from before paused in the entrance. “I’m going to need at least two of you to leave.”

  “Hi ,Agnes.” Owen waved at the woman.

  “Hi, Detective King. They already did the kit...”

  “I’m not here in any official capacity.”

  “Oh.” Agnes blinked at Owen, then Quinn. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face while Karen wasn’t looking.

  “Quinn, you call if you need anything, okay?” Karen glanced at Owen then shooed her girls out.

  “We’re going to be a minute, Agnes,” Owen said.

  Agnes nodded and pulled the curtain after Karen and the others, leaving them in relative privacy.

  There were so many things she wanted to say to Owen. Apologies to make. But first, there was the matter of today. That needed to come first, because so long as someone was after her, she couldn’t move on.

  “What do you need to ask me?” Quinn shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot.

  “To please, never take a taxi again.” He wrapped his hands around hers and bent forward, staring deep into her eyes.

  “What? I do it all the time—”

  “The person you rode to the store with was not the driver dispatched to pick you up.” He spoke softly, but his words were chilly.

  “W-what?” Quinn laid back.

  “Wu and Morgan should be here soon to take your official statement, but I’m worried you’re going to start forgetting details. Did they...check you out?”

  “You mean did they do a full swab me down kit? Yes.” She wrapped her arms around herself. She’d never felt more humiliated in her life, but it was over and once it came back negative she’d have peace of mind. She hadn’t been that unconscious.

  “It’s just to make certain.”

  “I know. He didn’t touch me, not like that, but I understand the necessity of it.”

  “Do you...want a hug?”

  “Not right now.” She’d had too many people need to touch her to want anyone else’s touch.

  “Okay. Can you walk me through what happened? What you remember? What did the guy look like?”

  “I don’t know.” She could picture the seat in her head. “He was clean shaven.”

  “Okay...” Owen frowned.

  “The guy who broke into our house. He had a beard. Remember? The hair was sticking out the mouth and nose hole. It was weird. This guy, he didn’t have facial hair, but...that’s it. He had on a hat. I didn’t think anything of it. He locked the door, sprayed me. After that, I don’t remember. Not really. I was sort of awake, I think?”

  “It’s okay. Take a deep breath. Breathe with me. We’ll take this one detail at a time.”

  Quinn covered her mouth. Her chest hurt, all the muscles too tight. What was going on? Why her? What could possibly be worth killing her over?

  “Quinn? Quinn are you here?”

  “Pearl?” Quinn choked out the woman’s name.

  “We’re in here,” Owen called out over his shoulder.

  Besides Owen and Chloe, the only other person Quinn wanted to see was Pearl. The woman was her rock, a major support through Quinn’s life.

  “There you are.” Pearl pulled the curtain aside enough to step in. She was once again using her cane, which worried Quinn.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Quinn sat up a bit.

  “Me? What about you?” Pearl slowly made her way to Quinn’s bedside. Owen shifted, allowing Pearl to grasp Quinn’s hand.

  “I’ll be fine,” Quinn said. “How did you even know I was here?”

  “Oh, the boys at the store told me.”

  Of course.

  Most labs in the area got supplies from the same store. Word would spread fast. Awesome. Just what HI-Co needed, more rumor fodder.

  “How are you doing, dear? Looks like they’ve got you all hooked up.” Pearl’s face creased with worry. Was that a tremble in her hands?

  “I’m fine. Really.” The sooner Quinn could be back on her feet, the better she’d be. This whole lying around thing wasn’t helping her do anything except take in more IV fluids.

  “Do they know who did this?” Pearl asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “We’re working on it,” Owen said. “Someone did see a vehicle pull down the street, and if we can ID the make and model, there’s a bank around the corner with cameras. If we can link the car someone saw to those cameras, we could get a plate. That might not do much, except tell us where he’s been if the car was stolen.”

  “That’s horrible.” Pearl glanced from Owen to Quinn, eyes wide. “Are you a police officer?”

  “Was. Sorry, I shouldn’t say we anymore.” Owen sighed.

  “Hello?” a male voice called out.

  “Kade?” Owen turned toward the curtain.

  “What are you doing here?” Owen reached out and slapped hands with the man.

  “We brought in a nasty accident and I’m afraid I stole your doctor.” Kade glanced at Quinn. “I talked with your doc and looked over your chart. You’re good to go home if you feel up to it. I could maybe talk over this with you, help get you somewhere more comfortable sooner.”

  “And clear out a bed?”

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Quinn was just ready to be gone.

  “Are you a doctor?” Pearl frowned.

  “I’m a paramedic, ma’am.” Kade smiled.

  “Kade was a combat medic before he came back to civilian life. He’s about as good as a doctor.” Owen smacked Kade’s shoulder.

  The look Kade gave Owen could kill, if it weren’t for the goofy grin.

  “All right.” Kade glanced down at the chart in hand. “You have no physical injuries, besides the bruising. Nothing hurting? No difficulty breathing? Heart acting funny?”

  “No. I went over that with the nurse.”

  “I have to ask. Don’t want to be anything but thorough.” Kade clicked his pen and frowned at something. “Now—the drug. They took samples of your blood and the residue on your face. It’ll take time for the lab to come back and tell us what it is, but at first look—it’s not a common substance.”

  Quinn was grateful Kade left mention of the kit off the list. She didn’t want to alarm Pearl without reason about something that hadn’t happened.

  “Will it be easy to trace?” Owen asked.

  “Possibly, yeah. Unless this is a homemade concoction. It’s a new one for me. You said he sprayed it in your face?” Kade asked.

  “Yes. I was trying to get out, he turned around, and sprayed it at me.”

  “We found a canister at the crime scene,” Owen said.

  “Did he wear a mask or something?” Kade kept his focus on Quinn.

  “No.” She shook her head
.

  “She said he was clean shaven. That’s about the only part of him she saw,” Owen said.

  “Hm. Okay.” Kade made more notes.

  “What does that mean?” Quinn asked.

  “Well, first, it’s probably not a gas. The greenish substance we got from your skin is likely the delivery method for the drug. It’s just strange. Then again, the North Korean dictator’s brother was...” Kade’s words slowed and he stared into space.

  “Kade?” Owen said the other man’s name slowly.

  “I just had a thought.”

  “Want to share it with the rest of the class?” Quinn fidgeted with the sheet. Pearls’ hand trembled in hers.

  “Just a news story about that assassination. The girl accused of killing him sprayed him with something.”

  “Kade. Dude.” Owen’s stare wasn’t friendly.

  “Sorry. Its speculation, should have kept that to myself. Anyway, unless you want to stay overnight, you’re free to go home. The doctor already looked at your chart. Basic instructions, rest, stay hydrated, if you feel any pain or discomfort, come back immediately. My opinion, not that it matters, don’t go to your house. Do you have a friend you could stay with?”

  “Yes,” Owen said before Quinn could even process it all.

  “I can’t—no.” She turned toward Owen. “I have so much to do and all my stuff is at home.”

  “We’ll get it all, take it to my place. I’ll call Chloe now, she can get started getting you a bag.” Owen pulled out his phone.

  “I’m with Owen on this,” Kade said. “I’ve seen you now, twice in—what? A week? Eight days? I’d rather not do this again.”

  “Fine. Okay. Whatever.” Quinn lay back her gaze drifting to Pearl’s face.

  Pearl stared at her, eyes wide behind her frames. She smiled and patted Quinn’s hand.

  “You’ve got a lot going on, dear. You need anything?” she asked.

  “A tranquilizer dart?” Quinn thumbed at Owen, who merely glared at her.

  Pearl chuckled and leaned over. Quinn offered her cheek for a quick peck.

  She couldn’t wait to get out of this bed. She wasn’t sure what she’d do first, kiss Owen or strangle him. They both sounded pretty good right now.

  At least she was alive.

  She pulled into the parking lot of a fast food joint. This conversation needed to happen now, but outside of the purview of those who might take too much interest in her.

  That man, that cop, was bad news.

  Quinn hadn’t mentioned seeing anyone, let alone a police officer.

  She jabbed at the contact in her phone and glared at the cane in the passenger seat.

  She hadn’t been able to get close enough to Quinn to use the poison. It would have been awfully convenient to pop her there and let her die as an unexplained side effect of whatever the hired hand had done to her.

  “What do you want?” Hansel drawled.

  “What the hell are you doing?” She hated the harsh tone, her fraying nerves, but this was taking too long.

  “Nice to talk to you, too.”

  “I saw your handiwork. You need to hurry up and finish this. Stop fucking around.” She peered over her shoulder.

  “I’ve got it all under control.”

  “No, you don’t. She’s spending time with a cop. Finish this. Do what I’m paying you to do.” Why was it so hard to get good help these days?

  “I’m well aware of the cop. I’ll take care of him.” Hansel seemed entirely too relaxed about all of this.

  “Tonight?”

  “No, not quite yet.”

  “Time is running out. Do you understand?”

  “I’ll get the job done.”

  The line cut off.

  She wasn’t sure about this man. He’d been too eager, and now he was a cat playing with a mouse. She’d hired a professional out of courtesy to Quinn, to have this over quickly and painlessly, not to toy with her.

  If she had to do this, to be merciful to Quinn, she’d do it, but it might destroy that last bit of humanity in her.

  Quinn hadn’t given much thought to where Owen lived. He was simply part of her life now, after a week of wedging himself into her every day. It was a selfish way to view things, almost as if when he wasn’t around her he didn’t exist.

  His bungalow was very much a bachelor pad. Comfortable and masculine to the nth degree. Dark woods, big furniture, a TV in every room. It was a man’s space. She could even smell his scent, though she couldn’t figure out where it came from or what it was.

  She wandered down the hall, looking at the framed certificates, the commendations Owen had received over the years, and family portraits depicting a brood of children with the same dark hair and blue eyes as Owen.

  It was so different from her life. And whose fault was that? She couldn’t blame her dad or mother. Quinn had allowed her life to fall down this hole, and she just kept digging it deeper. She wished someone had come along, lifted her nose out of the dirt and shown her what she was doing. That she wasn’t creating a future, she was digging a trap. A grave. She wouldn’t have listened, though, and that was probably the worst part. Stubbornness was both a strength and weakness.

  “Thanks!” Owen closed the front door after the last helpful hand.

  He really hadn’t been kidding about getting all the guys on board with moving what she needed from the house to Owen’s bungalow. The guys had treated her like part of the group, an expected member, even. She could hardly remember all their names.

  Chloe had brought over all the clothes she wanted to off-load on Quinn, plus some conspicuously packaged make-up she just hadn’t wanted anymore. Yeah, right. Chloe was doing her best to doll Quinn up, make her look like a real girl, in the hopes that it might spark something between Quinn and Owen. There wasn’t enough make-up in existence to fix the dark circles under her eyes or the strain this circus was putting her through. Quinn appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

  There were people in Quinn’s life who cared about her. All this time, she’d kept pushing forward, believing herself a ship alone at sea. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in with Owen, Chloe, and the others, she hadn’t allowed herself to see them as what they were. Her family. Not the ones she’d been born with, but the ones who’d picked her.

  Asking for help wasn’t her strength, but if she was going to set a new course, she’d need all the help she could get. These men she barely knew, it wasn’t the first time they’d dropped whatever they were doing to lend a hand, and...it was time she woke up and realized that she wasn’t alone. Just because her mother was dead and her father absent, it didn’t mean she and Kierra were by themselves.

  That seemed to be the thing this near-death experience had taught her.

  She wasn’t alone.

  There were people in her life. People she cared for and who cared for her in return.

  Owen and Chloe were top of that list, for two obviously different reasons, but she appreciated them in a way she hadn’t before. She needed to take off these blinders and own that life wasn’t as lonely and bleak as she’d allowed herself to believe. All this time, she’d been staring at the ground, ignoring the sky above her. Well, no more. She wanted to be excited about her days and what was going on, instead of dreading them.

  “Hey.” Owen blocked her way out of the hall, hands on either side of the entrance “Want anything to eat? Drink?”

  “No, thanks.” He’d already fed her once. Besides, she had a lot of thinking to do about life, the changes she would make and what she wanted. “I’d really like to just sit and—be.”

  “I’ve got a very comfortable sofa with your name on it.” He held out his hand.

  “You mean the one with my crap on it?”

  “No, I put that in my bedroom.”

  Oh, did he now?

  Quinn’s breath caught in her throat. Top of the list was deciding what to do about Owen, how he made her feel, what the future might bring.

  She let Ow
en lead her into the living room. She’d fled earlier because the sheer number of people had been overwhelming. Her body was still too exhausted and worn out to deal with that much testosterone, even well-meaning as the guys were. The guys couldn’t help it that they took up every inch of available room and, even trying to be quiet, made more noise than a stampede of elephants.

  The parts from her basement lab were spread out over Owen’s dining set. From the look of the wood, it was an antique, refurbished with care.

  “How much of this place did you fix up?” Quinn curled her legs under her and settled into the plush embrace of the couch cushions.

  “All of it?” He chuckled. “When I moved in, this place had been stripped down to the studs. I even had to take out all the electrical.”

  “And you moved in?” Quinn stared at Owen in horror.

  “Hey, I’d just paid cash for this place. I didn’t have a lot left over.” He grinned. “My older sister is an electrical engineer. She started out as an electrician, and her contribution to me moving out was to help me rewire the place. I think she still feels guilty about pushing me out of the hay loft as kids. Broke my arm in two places.”

  “That’s some pretty epic guilt.”

  “I was pretty annoying.”

  “What about the rest of the house?”

  “Spit polish and elbow grease.”

  “Owen.” She stared at him.

  “What? It’s not that hard, once you know what you’re doing. Besides, growing up I worked on our friend’s dad’s construction crew. It was good money, experience, and it got me out of the house.”

  “Is there anything you don’t do?” She sighed and leaned into him. His touch was welcomed, desired even, so why fight it? This was where she wanted to be, after all. It was easier to accept that without those proverbial blinders on.

  “Sing. I don’t sing well. I’m not very good at trivia, either. Oh, and dancing. Did you see the video of us from Delilah’s party? I cringe every time someone plays it because I’m that white guy in the back with no rhythm.”

  Quinn chuckled.