Farewell Seas

by Lily Harper Hart

  “Which brings us back to Patrice,” Paul mused. “She has to be involved.”

  “Definitely.” Quinn gripped his hands into fists at his sides. “She’s definitely involved, and she’s going to rue the day she decided to hurt one hair on Rowan’s head. I’ll make her pay for that.”

  “We all will. I think that’s the one thing we can agree on.”

  14

  Fourteen

  Even though Nick and Paul would’ve preferred sitting by Rowan’s bedside all night, Quinn convinced them it was a bad idea. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep Rowan all to himself — and he was certain Paul bitterly thought that at one point — but it would be hard to explain why they were sitting vigil if the cops decided to check in. Explaining why the men were so worried could cause someone to be suspicious. With that in mind Quinn sent them off with promises that he would text regular updates.

  Once Rowan was moved to a standard room, Quinn had nothing to do but sit ... or pace ... or stare out the window, cursing anyone he thought could’ve possibly had the gall to hurt her. She was dead to the world, completely unaware of his inner turmoil. That only allowed him to wallow to the point where he was imagining bloody revenge on a multitude of Sterlings when he finally drifted off in the chair.

  He woke early the next morning when a nurse came in to check on Rowan. He shifted in his chair and rubbed the crusties from his eyes as he watched the woman — her nametag read “Susan” — check Rowan’s vitals and carefully pull back the bandage on her shoulder so she could verify the wound still looked clean and clear.

  “Is she okay?” Quinn asked as rubbed his cheeks to get the circulation going.

  Susan smiled at him. “She seems fine. We’ll know more when she wakes up, which we want to let her do on her own. There’s no reason to force her awake.”

  Quinn’s expression darkened. “I wasn’t planning on forcing her awake.”

  Susan’s smile never wavered. “I know. You look agitated, though. I’m guessing sleeping in a chair didn’t leave you feeling fresh and relaxed.”

  “I honestly don’t care about that.” Quinn flicked his eyes to Rowan when she shifted in the bed and made a murmuring sound. “She’s going to wake up soon.”

  Susan lifted an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

  “She makes the same noise before she wakes up every morning. I guess it might take longer because of the drugs they gave her, but she’s going to wake up.”

  Susan was sympathetic as she crossed over and patted his arm. “She’s definitely going to wake up. I know it’s not going to make you feel better to hear this, but as far as gunshot wounds go, she got really lucky. Things could’ve been much worse.”

  Quinn kept telling himself that as he woke over the interminable night and immediately checked to make sure she was still breathing in the bed beside him. The words had yet to sink in.

  “I just want her to wake up.” His smile was rueful. “She’s not a morning person, though. She’ll be crabby. I can’t wait to hear her complain about being in a hospital.”

  “Oh, you’re kind of cute, huh?” Susan was in her fifties and her words were more motherly than flirty. “The other nurses have been watching you all night. You’re quite the celebrity. I’m pretty sure almost all of them have a crush on you because of the way you keep getting up and making sure she’s tucked in tight.”

  Quinn was earnest. “I love her.”

  “I think that’s obvious. She’ll wake up soon. The doctor will be back to check on her when that happens.”

  “It can’t come soon enough.”

  Quinn lapsed into silence again when Susan left. He took to watching Rowan for signs she was about to open her eyes.

  He jumped every time her fingers fluttered.

  He leaned forward every time she made a murmuring sound.

  He fought off tears whenever he looked at her shoulder wound.

  He was a bundle of nerves ... and then it happened. Out of nowhere, Rowan moved her arms above her head to stretch and made a growling sound in the back of her throat when the pain from her injured shoulder hit her full on.

  “It’s okay, Ro.” Quinn was at her side in an instant, his fingers gentle on her cheek as he cajoled her into waking. “You’re okay. I’m sure your shoulder hurts, but you’ll be as good as new in a few weeks. You’re okay.”

  Slowly — so slowly Quinn had to stop himself from begging her to wake up — Rowan opened her eyes. The first thing she did when she saw him was smile.

  “Good morning.”

  His heart leaped to his throat. “Good morning, sweetie.” He choked on the words, causing her to frown.

  That’s when she recognized her surroundings and her face fell. She slid her eyes to the glass door at the front of the room and then immediately shifted to look at the hospital gown she was dressed in. “What the ... ?” That’s when she tried to move her shoulder and grimaced in pain. “Ow.”

  “It’s okay.” Quinn wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand from the fresh wound. “I know you’re confused. They gave you a lot of drugs to knock you out. It’s okay, though. You’re going to be okay.”

  Rowan was officially bewildered ... and she didn’t like it. “What happened?”

  Quinn licked his lips. His mouth suddenly felt unbelievably dry. “What do you remember?”

  “I remember wearing a bib.”

  A smile came to Quinn’s mouth, unbidden. “You wore a bib and ate a huge bucket of seafood. That happened.”

  “What happened after?”

  “We went to the beach,” he prodded, choosing his words carefully. “We were playing around on the sand and talking.”

  Rowan screwed up her face in concentration. “I kind of remember that. I told you I wanted to live at the Stanley Hotel.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. I’m going to make sure you get there. I promise you that.”

  “We were talking about living in Florida.” Rowan pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead as she struggled to remember. “Then there was a really loud noise and I was drowning.”

  “Oh, sweetie, you didn’t drown.” Quinn shifted so he could sit on the bed and stare directly into her eyes. “That’s not what happened. You weren’t in the water.”

  “I was drowning in my head. I could hear the blood rushing by.” Rowan was momentarily confused and then her focus sharpened. “I was shot.”

  Quinn wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. He wanted to deny that anything ugly had touched her. He couldn’t, though. He’d vowed to tell her the truth. Always. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, I remember.” Gently she lifted her hand to her bandaged shoulder. “You were there. You rolled on top of me. I could feel your tears on my face.”

  “Probably,” he agreed. “I panicked a bit after the fact.”

  “You saved me.”

  “No, Ro. We got lucky. I called the police and got an ambulance, but I didn’t save you. I didn’t know we were in trouble until it was already too late.”

  “You saved me,” she repeated, struggling to a sitting position so she could look him straight in the eye. “I love you.”

  “Oh, geez.” He’d been fighting off tears since the conversation began. He didn’t want to frighten her. Now, he couldn’t stop them from flowing. “I love you, too.” He slipped his arm around her so he could hold her, being careful to avoid her injured shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you. In fact, I’m going to take such good care of you that you’re going to think you’re a queen.”

  “That sounds interesting, huh?”

  “Most definitely.”

  DETECTIVE MORGAN STOPPED BY for a chat not long after. Dr. Carpenter was checking Rowan’s wound when he let himself into the room without an invitation.

  “You look much better than last night,” he said with a bright smile.

  If looks could kill, Quinn would’ve murdered the man with one harsh glare. “She always looks good,” he growled. “Why are you here
?”

  Morgan merely deepened his smile. “Because Ms. Gray was the victim of a shooting and I have a few questions to ask her.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s not feeling up to your questions.” Quinn found he violently disliked the detective and wanted him nowhere near Rowan. “If you want to talk to her, you can visit her on The Bounding Storm in a few days.”

  “I think it’s best to talk to her now,” Morgan countered serenely. “That is unless there’s a medical reason I can’t.” He pointedly turned to the doctor and waited.

  Carpenter held back a sigh ... but just barely. It wasn’t difficult to take the temperature of the room. He could read Quinn’s fury and wanted to help the man. He also had no choice but to cooperate. “She’s okay,” he said after a beat, ignoring the way Quinn scowled at him. “You can talk to her. If she gets tired, though, I expect you to give it a rest. Her wound isn’t serious, but she was still shot and we had her on a lot of painkillers last night. She’s still coming off them.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Morgan was unusually chipper as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his pen. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?”

  Quinn wanted to fight him. He would have, in fact, if Rowan didn’t shoot him a warning look. She was completely together as the detective asked questions. Her memory was coming back in bits and pieces, and when she couldn’t pull a fully-formed memory from her brain, she was honest about it.

  “The seconds right after are fuzzy,” she admitted as she plucked at the blanket stretched over her legs. “I knew Quinn was there. I felt him on top of me. I didn’t realize what he was doing, though. I don’t know what I thought, but I was feeling nauseated so I threw up. That’s the thing I remember most.”

  “Do you think you got nauseated from the gunshot wound? Perhaps the fear made you sick.”

  “That’s a nice thought, but one of the things we were talking about on the beach was how I ate way too much food.” Rowan flashed a nervous smile. “I have a thing about crab legs.”

  “I think a lot of people do.” Morgan’s smile was charming as he regarded her. “As for throwing up, don’t feel bad about it. You went through a trauma. If that’s the worst reaction you have, it’s not a big deal.”

  “Yeah, well ... I just remember feeling sick. I was confused, although I don’t know why. The doctor says I’m going to be fine.”

  “You were in shock,” Quinn replied simply. “It’s okay. It’s not important.”

  Rowan wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t believe it was a conversation they needed to share in front of an audience. “I guess.”

  “How do you feel now?” Morgan asked.

  “A little stiff. My shoulder is a bit achy, but it’s not the end of the world. I’m eager to get out of here and head home.”

  “We’re going to release you soon,” Carpenter said, winking at her. “I think your friend is going to have a meltdown if we don’t.” He inclined his head in Quinn’s direction.

  “I’m guessing he had a worse night than me,” Rowan offered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay now, though.”

  Quinn’s smile was sincere. “You’re okay, so I’m okay. Everything else we can figure out as we move forward.”

  Rowan grinned as Morgan shifted on his chair and drew her attention back. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m just trying to ascertain who would do this to you,” he replied. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you?”

  Rowan scratched her cheek as she considered the question. She and Quinn hadn’t talked about what she should tell the police regarding the shooting. She felt as if she was treading water with no life preserver in sight. “Oh, well ... not off the top of my head.” She made up her mind on the spot. “It’s not as if I make a habit of picking up enemies. I take photographs on a cruise ship, for crying out loud. That’s not generally a high-risk job.”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t ticked someone off along the way.”

  “And yet I don’t believe I have.” Rowan looked to Quinn for help. “I don’t know what he wants me to say.”

  “You’ve already said enough.” Quinn clutched her hand and pinned Morgan with a serious look. “She’s told you all she knows. I’ve told you everything I know. I’m sorry if you feel we’re leaving something out of the telling, but we’re honestly not. I have no idea why we were targeted. All I care about is that Rowan is okay. I want to get her out of here.”

  “Okay. There’s no reason to get persnickety.” Morgan held up his hands. “Take her home. If I have further questions, I’ll track you down on The Bounding Storm.”

  “That would be great.”

  FRED ARRANGED TO PICK UP Quinn’s motorcycle from the hospital. He also provided a car so Quinn could transport Rowan back to the ship in comfort. Even though he knew it was unlikely that anyone would be ballsy enough to attack them again — especially in the bright light of day — Quinn was hyper-vigilant as he navigated the highways that led back to the familiar dock they called home in their off-time.

  “Home sweet home.” Quinn forced a smile as he parked and turned to Rowan in the passenger seat. “How are you feeling?”

  For her part, Rowan recognized Quinn was on the edge. The problem was, she had no idea what to do to ease his pain and make him feel better. “Mild discomfort, but otherwise I’m fine. It’s kind of like a muscle ache. I bet I’ll be able to go back to work next week when we set sail. They won’t even have to call in a replacement for me.”

  Quinn was having none of that. “Um ... you’re not working next week. I’ve already called Michael and told him what happened. They’re arranging for a temp for the next cruise and you’re going to take it easy.”

  “I think you’re overreacting.”

  “And I think I’m going to spoil you rotten.” Quinn pocketed the car keys. “Stay there until I come around to collect you.”

  Confused, Rowan shifted her eyes to the window. “What do you mean?”

  “Stay there,” he repeated.

  She watched with interest as he climbed out of the car and circled the vehicle. His eyes were keen as he scoured the edges of the parking lot for movement. Apparently satisfied that no one was lying in wait, he opened the door and reached in for her.

  “Come on, Ro.”

  To her utter surprise, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up so he could carry her. He used his foot to kick the door shut and then he immediately pointed himself toward the walkway that led to the ship.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, flabbergasted.

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “Yeah, but ... I can walk. I was hit in the shoulder.”

  “I prefer carrying you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you were shot and this gives me something to do.” He was matter-of-fact. “I know you think I’m being a big baby. No, don’t deny it. It’s written all over your face. I get it. You think I’m smothering you and you’re barely out of the hospital. All I can say is ... it’s going to get worse.”

  Despite his serious expression, Rowan couldn’t stop herself from bursting out laughing. “It’s going to get worse?”

  He nodded, his lips curving at her amusement. “Completely worse,” he agreed. “I’m going to fawn all over you, serve breakfast in bed, rub your feet ... basically I’m going to treat you like my princess.”

  “I thought I was a queen,” she teased.

  “I can treat you like a queen, too.” Quinn’s eyes turned serious as they reached the ship and he regarded the two security guards standing there. “Anything?”

  “No, sir,” one of them replied, shaking his head. “It’s been quiet.”

  “I want it to stay that way.” Quinn was deadly serious. “I want eyes on the parking lot at all times. If anyone shows up, I want to know about it. Don’t let anyone on this ship who doesn’t have the proper credentials.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going to b
e with Rowan for a bit but there will be a meeting in a few hours so we can discuss a few things. Spread the word.”

  “We’re on it, sir.”

  Rowan pressed her lips together as she slid a sidelong look to Quinn. His profile reflected a grim detachment that had her questioning how well she really knew him. “Don’t go crazy,” she said finally, her voice low. “I’m okay. I won’t be if you go crazy.”

  “I have no intention of going crazy.”

  “Good.” She relaxed against him. “You’re acting a little crazy, though.”

  He didn’t want to laugh. This was a serious situation, after all. She’d been shot and needed to take it easy. He couldn’t stop himself, though. “I’ll try to refrain from acting crazy as much as possible.”

  “That would be good because I’m not sure both of us can be crazy at the same time. Since I’m the one who was shot, I have dibs on the crazy today.”

  “Does that mean, if I put in a request now, I can be the crazy one tomorrow?”

  She nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “Isn’t it, though?”

  15

  Fifteen

  Rowan was the center of attention within minutes of hitting her room.

  “I can’t believe you were shot,” Sally announced, pushing past Quinn and stalking into the room, hands on hips. “I also can’t believe I had to hear about it from a random security guy. Why didn’t you call?”

  Guilt, hot and fierce, crawled over Quinn’s skin. “I wasn’t really thinking,” he said after a beat, holding out his hands in an apologetic manner. “I called Michael to tell him, but I didn’t think about anyone else. That’s on me. Don’t blame her.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of blame to go around.” Sally absently patted his chest and blew past him so she could climb on the bed next to Rowan. “Your arm isn’t going to fall off or anything, is it?”