Break in the Storm (WeHo Book 2)

by Sherryl Hancock

  Quinn looked back at her brother, her look unreadable as she chewed the steak she’d just put in her mouth. Xandy looked between the two, sensing that this was a matter of a sibling feud.

  When Quinn swallowed, she grinned. “Liam actually helped, he was the one that picked me up off the ground when I hit.”

  “Feck clean off, I tell you!” Garran crowed, gesturing at Hagan.

  “No!” Hagan protested. “I thought it was Liam that went off the roof!”

  “Obviously,” Quinn said, grinning and winking at Xandy who was shaking her head. “But no, it was me. I was going to try and see if I could land it.”

  “Broke an arm that time,” Brann said, shaking her head at her daughter.

  “I thought it was my ankle that time,” Quinn said.

  “Nah,” Brann said, “you broke yer ankle when you jumped into the lough and ran into a piling down in the water.”

  Quinn looked considering for a minute, then began to nod. “Yeah, okay, I remember that now.”

  Xandy looked horrified by the list of injuries piling up.

  “So the ‘hooligan’ shirt really was true,” Xandy said, looking astounded.

  “I said it was,” Quinn said, chuckling at Xandy’s look.

  “Quinn wasn’t a hooligan,” Hagan said, “she was an adventurer!”

  “I think she’s probably the bravest of us all,” Garran said.

  “I think Finn’s got me beat,” Quinn said. Looking at Xandy she said, “He’s with the Belfast Fire Brigade, a fire fighter, plus he has medical training.”

  “Oh,” Xandy said nodding, “sounds handy.”

  “Oh yeah,” Quinn said, grinning, “he’s the oldest out of all of us too, he’s forty-five.”

  “And there’s still…” Xandy said, trying desperately to remember all the names of Quinn’s other siblings.

  Quinn laughed. “You’re going to make yer head explode if you try to remember everyone without even meeting them, babe. There’s still Liam and Miles as well as Fallon, and you obviously haven’t met Finn yet.”

  Xandy nodded, looking relieved. She looked at Garran.

  “Quinn said you’re a history teacher? Like your dad here?” she said, smiling at Bryan.

  “Well, Da is a professor and the head of his department at the college, but I’m a teacher at secondary school, yes.” Garran said.

  Xandy looked at Quinn, a question in her eyes.

  “Secondary school is like your junior high and high school, we start it at eleven,” Quinn explained, knowing that was what had tripped Xandy up.

  “Yes, and Maggie teaches music at the primary school,” Garran supplied, nodding toward his sister, “the younger babbys.”

  “I teach ages eight to nine,” Maggie put in.

  “So three teachers,” Xandy said, looking at Bryan, “you must be very proud.”

  Bryan nodded. “I’m proud of all my little uns.”

  “Liam’s in the Army like I was,” Quinn told Xandy.

  “He’s not Ranger Wing though, like Quinny was,” Hagan put in, winking at Quinn.

  “Ranger Wing is more difficult isn’t it?” Xandy asked, looking at Quinn.

  “Yeah, there’s about a hundred and fifty of the Rangers, out of about seventy-five hundred defense forces,” Hagan said, obviously very proud of his sister’s ranking in the military and knowing that Quinn wouldn’t brag for herself.

  “Wow,” Xandy said, knowing that American Army Rangers were considered the best of the best, but it seemed like the Irish version was just as elite if not more so.

  “How much extra training did you go through, Quinn?” Hagan asked, prodding his sister to blow her own horn a bit.

  “A lot,” Quinn replied simply, not playing along.

  “Quinn’s not a braggart,” Hagan said, giving his sister foul look, “but trust me, she’s deadly if she needs to be.”

  Xandy looked at Quinn, who was staring at her brother, her lips twitching slightly when he referred to her being deadly. She asked Quinn about it later.

  They were lying in bed, with Xandy in her usual position with her head in the hollow of Quinn’s shoulder, except that she was lying face up, instead of her side. Quinn’s arm was under Xandy’s neck and their right hands were intertwined as much as was possible with Quinn’s bandaged hand.

  “You really don’t like to talk about your skills do you?” Xandy asked, glancing up and back at Quinn.

  Quinn shrugged. “I know what I’m capable of. I don’t need to talk about it for it to be true.”

  Xandy smiled at Quinn’s logic.

  “But most people like you, you know, that were in such elite groups, like to talk about it don’t they? I mean, brag a little.”

  Quinn considered the thought for a minute, then shrugged again. “I’m sure some do, but I’d rather prove than talk.”

  Xandy let go of Quinn’s hand, moving to sit up and look down at her bodyguard-turned friend-turned possible lover. Quinn was wearing a black tank top and black sweatpants; with her tattoos and short hair she looked very rough indeed. It was impossible to see the woman that Xandy knew from the rough looking exterior, the one that had been so kind to her and who had saved her life. It was easy, however, to believe that this woman with the lean fighter’s build, could be dangerous. Xandy just wasn’t sure how dangerous. She found out, the next night.

  They’d spent the following day meandering south toward Belfast. They’d stopped at shops and churches and sometimes just to look out at the sea. They’d gone to the Titanic museum in Belfast when they’d gotten to the city. By the time they were done there, they decided to go find someplace to have dinner.

  Quinn parked the car on a side street and they walked to a local seafood restaurant. They had a nice dinner, but by the time they were done, it was dark and the clubs were just starting to get going. As they walked by one club, there were people standing outside waiting to get in. Someone recognized Xandy, who had apparently had another sudden jump in popularity.

  “You’re Xandy Blue!” someone yelled, and many heads turned.

  A couple of guys stepped out of the line to approach Xandy. Quinn immediately went on high alert, standing between Xandy and the guys approaching her, her arm extended slightly to motion Xandy to stay back.

  “Okay, guys, leave off,” Quinn said, all business.

  “We just wanna chinwag…” said one of the men, his speech slightly slurred.

  “Yeah, she’s a lash,” the other man said, referring to Xandy as a ‘hot girl.’

  “She’s with me, and we’re leaving,” Quinn said, her tone no-nonsense, as she moved to step around one of the men.

  “No hold on…” the first man, closest to Quinn said, putting his arm out, and touching Quinn’s shoulder.

  Quinn’s look was icy as she dropped her eyes to the man’s hand, then looked up at him.

  “You’ll want to remove that,” Quinn told the man, her voice as icy as her expression.

  “Are ye startin’?” the man said, his look amazed.

  “I don’t start, I only finish,” Quinn replied, reaching up to take the man’s wrist, twisting it towards her and making the man go down to his knees immediately.

  She let go just as quickly as she’d grabbed him. Glancing down at him, she said merely, “Now get lost.”

  Reaching back, Quinn took Xandy’s hand and began to lead her away from the bar. The second guy caught up to them, ready to protect his friend’s manhood.

  Quinn heard him approach and turned to face the man, pulling Xandy behind her, and then pushing her back away from her.

  “I’ll knack yer ballix in!” the man said, moving to throw a punch. Quinn ducked the punch, and came up with one of her own, landing it square in the man’s midsection, causing him to double over.

  Quinn quickly stepped back, knowing that the man wasn’t done yet. She was right; he got angrier and charged her. Jumping aside, she brought her fist up to punch him in the face on his way past. He stumbled, almost fall
ing, but spun with surprising agility for his size. He was at least a half a foot taller than Quinn’s five eight frame, and he looked like he weighed about fifty pounds more.

  When he turned, he came at Quinn directly, and there was nowhere for her to back up to, or she’d run into Xandy. The two stood facing each other. People who had been in the club queue were now walking toward them, always interested in a good old-fashioned street fight. Quinn could tell by the set of the man’s jaw that he had no intention of letting a woman best him, especially not in front of all these people. She knew she was going to have to fight this one through.

  Blowing her breath out slowly, Quinn brought her hands up, her legs parted in a fighter’s stance. With her finger tips she motioned for the man to come at her. He did with surprising speed, his fist seeking to shatter her jaw, catching Quinn in the shoulder as she pulled back at the last second.

  “Quinn!” Xandy screamed as she watched Quinn get hit.

  Quinn glanced back at Xandy, afraid that someone else was approaching her, and that’s when the man charged her, knocking her to the ground. She felt her gun at the small of her back, but had no intention of using it, her sense of fair play firmly intact. She always carried one just in case, though rarely had to use it. If things went badly and she needed to shoot the guy to protect Xandy, she would, but not yet.

  Grabbing the man’s shoulder with her right hand, she felt a burning pain shoot up her arm as her stitches on that hand reopened. She used all her strength to shove him away from her. He hadn’t expected a woman to be that strong, no matter how masculine she looked, so he fell heavily away from Quinn. She leapt to her feet and turned to kick him in the mid-section to do her best to keep him down. Someone else grabbed her from behind, she had no idea if it was the first guy she’d fought with, or someone new. What she did know was that they were male and strong, with arms like vices holding her fast.

  She could see the guy on the ground getting up, a malicious smile on his face, he intended to use her disadvantage to do her some damage. Quinn felt the man’s breath behind her, so she knew his face was close, ramming her head backwards she caught him square in the face. He let go of her then, and Quinn turned punching him in the face as hard as she could, and he went down.

  That’s when the other guy grabbed her arm; she turned to scuffle with him, even as she heard the police siren in the distance. The man grabbed her by the throat, doing his best to use his brute strength against her. Quinn twisted out of his grasp, and holding onto the arm he’d used to try to grab her, she yanked him over her shoulder, throwing him to the ground.

  He lay still for a few moments, and Quinn stood breathing heavily, thinking that she was in the clear. She was just turning to scan the area when she was caught in the back of the head with something extremely hard. She heard Xandy scream, and saw stars before dropping to the ground unconscious.

  She woke a few minutes later as two people were helping her to a chair outside the club. As they sat her down, she became fully conscious.

  “Fucking son of a bitch!” she snarled as her head exploded in pain. Grabbing her head, she leaned over, every cell in her body concentrating on not throwing up from the pain. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted, as she tried to get a handle on the pain in her head.

  Her legs were spread in a wide stance and her elbows rested on her knees, her head in her hands and down between her knees. Her legs bounced as she tried to force the pain to go away.

  “Lousy fuckin cheats…” Quinn said to no one in particular, she didn’t care about anything at that moment, but then it clicked, Xandy!

  Her head snapped up, even as she grimaced at the movement, she quickly located Xandy who was standing in front of her, looking worried.

  “You okay?” Quinn asked.

  “I’m not the one who’s currently bleeding…” Xandy said her tone flabbergasted.

  Quinn blew her breath out audibly as the temporary ebb in the pain, having been replaced with fear momentarily, fell away. Someone handed her a bottle of Guinness and she took it gratefully, downing half its contents in one long swig. As she took a cigarette out of her jacket pocket, she noticed that her hand was bleeding from under the bandage.

  “Son of a….” she muttered, reaching for her lighter and lighting a cigarette with her left hand.

  A police officer walked over then, with one of the guys in cuffs. His three friends were sitting on the curb with another officer, also in cuffs.

  “Can you tell me what happened??” the officer asked Quinn.

  “One of those bastards jumped me from behind. Which one was it?” Quinn asked, glancing back at Xandy.

  Xandy pointed to the man that stood with the officer.

  Quinn stood up, getting a proper look at the guy. He was no taller than Quinn and quite skinny. Her look was murderous, so much so that the man tried to back up. She stabbed him in the chest with her finger, holding her cigarette just under his nose as she did, her eyes narrowed.

  “This one, yeah,” Quinn told the officer. “Next time, fucking come at me if you got the balls for it.”

  “You’ll need to come down and make a formal statement, if you want to pursue this further,” the officer said.

  Quinn gestured to her still slightly bleeding head and hand, and said, “Can I do it tomorrow?”

  The officer nodded. “Just come down to the station.”

  “You got it,” Quinn said, nodding and grimacing at she did because it hurt her head.

  “You want medical attention?” the officer asked.

  Quinn shook her head, moving to sit back down in the chair and continued to smoke her cigarette.

  The officer led the man off and put him in a police car. The other three were released, Quinn presumed just cautioned.

  Xandy looked horrified. “Quinn, you should go to the hospital,” she said, still completely horror-struck at what had happened in front of her.

  Part of her had been amazed and impressed with Quinn’s fighting ability, but she’d also been terrified that she’d see Quinn killed before her eyes. Especially when the man had come running up with the pipe in his hands, she hadn’t even had time to scream to warn Quinn; he’d come out of nowhere. Seeing Quinn get hit and go down had scared her beyond belief.

  Fortunately, that had been when the people in the crowd had enough of the unfair odds Quinn was fighting against and had stepped in to grab the man with the pipe and the other man who was still trying to get up to fight back. The police had shown up shortly thereafter and people had helped Quinn up and to the chair.

  Now Xandy was further worried that Quinn was refusing medical help.

  Quinn shook her head in answer to Xandy’s question. “No point,” she said, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray on the table.

  “What do you mean ‘no point’?” Xandy asked, stunned. “You could have a skull fracture!”

  Quinn grinned. “I don’t.”

  “And you know this how?”

  Quinn shrugged. “I’m fine, Xan.”

  Xandy sat down heavily in the chair across from Quinn. “There’s no way you can know that.”

  “I do,” Quinn said, when she saw that Xandy was still unsettled she said. “Look, that guy weighed about a hundred pounds, hell, I weigh more than he probably does. He hit me hard, but trust me when I say, I’ve been hit harder and there was no fracture. I have a really hard head.”

  “She does, she definitely does,” said a man standing next to them suddenly.

  Quinn glanced up and dropped her head back blowing out her breath. “Damnit…”

  “Oh, the hell you say,” the man said, rolling his eyes, then he looked at Xandy. “Hi, I’m Liam, Quinn’s brother.”

  Xandy looked over at Quinn, who nodded as she grinned, reaching for the bottle of Guinness again. “And that’s Miles,” she said, gesturing to the man behind Liam. “What’re you two doing here?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Pub crawl,” Miles said, moving forward to shake Xandy’s hand a
nd look at his sister. “Yer bleedin’ ya know,” he said, his tone matter of fact.

  “I know,” Quinn said, grinning as she finished off the Guinness, setting it on the table and reaching for another cigarette.

  “Ya do that a lot when you’re home,” Liam commented.

  “Feck ya,” Quinn said, grinning.

  Someone walked up then, handing Quinn another Guinness and saying, “Good on ya,” with a nod of respect.

  “Slàinte,” Quinn said, and raised the bottle, taking a long swig.

  “So, you don’t think you have a fractured skull, but you could still go to the hospital to get checked out, maybe they could at least give you some pain killers,” Xandy said, still trying to reason Quinn into going to the hospital.

  Quinn laughed out loud at that, and Liam and Miles shook their heads.

  “Not a good idea,” Liam said.

  “Very bad idea,” Miles agreed.

  Quinn took another long swig of the Guinness and looked over at Xandy. “I’m allergic to pretty much every pain med there is.”

  “How allergic?” Xandy asked.

  “She could die,” Liam said, his tone mild.

  Xandy’s eyes widened as she looked at Quinn. “Seriously?”

  Quinn nodded, taking another drag off of her cigarette. “Almost did when I was seven, heart actually stopped. That’s when they figured it out.”

  “Wow,” Xandy said, “I had no idea.”

  “Well, I wasn’t expecting some guy to try and cave my head in after dinner,” Quinn said, with a grin.

  “Some touch,” said a young man who handed Quinn a shot glass full of an amber liquid.

  Quinn took it, held it up to the guy’s glass and clinked it, then downed the shot. “Thanks,” she said, nodding as she handed back the glass.

  “Some touch?” Xandy asked.

  “Means like ‘good job,’ ” Quinn said.

  “Hey, you’re on YouTube!” some girl said to Quinn.

  “Are you fecking kidding me?” Quinn said, her tone far from amused.

  The girl held up her phone. It was a video of the fight.