Extraction Point (Ricochet #3) (11 page)

Hours later, after Mara had gone home, Quinn was curled up on a chair in Mack’s office, reading a book while Mack sat in front of his laptop. She had started to doze off when Tucker poked his head in.

“Mack—”

He stopped short when he noticed Quinn. “Oh, hi Quinn.”

“It’s okay Tucker, go ahead.” Mack gestured for him to keep speaking.

Quinn put her book down and straightened up, her eyes darting back and forth between the two men. Unintentionally, she put a hand up to her chest, a sad attempt to calm her racing heart.

This is it.

“They’re on their way back. He— uh, he got away.”

Mack nodded and Tucker disappeared without another word. Quinn didn’t know what to think. She swallowed down the thick lump that had formed in her throat. How could she be both disappointed that Travis was still alive, yet thoroughly relieved that he wasn’t killed? It made no sense and these warring feelings were turning her into a wreck.

“Can I go home now?” she asked, her stomach churning nervously.

“Why don’t you wait for everyone to—”

Mack was cut off by a loud crashing noise in the gym, followed by shouting. Without thinking, she raced down the hall, recognizing Rick’s voice.

“Fuck! Fuuuuck!” Rick was standing in front of the heavy bag, hitting it over and over again, letting out a constant stream of obscenities as his fists flew violently.

Quinn came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the padded mats. Ben was righting a weight rack that she could only assume Rick had knocked over in a fit of rage. For the first time ever, she was honestly afraid to approach Rick. His fury was so palpable Quinn could feel it all the way down to her bones. It was so potent— it literally sent chills across her skin. She was at a total loss as to what to do.

Thankfully, Clint walked over to Rick, unafraid to get within striking distance of a very hostile former Recon Marine. She couldn’t hear what Clint murmured in Rick’s ear, but whatever it was, it didn’t help. Rick lashed out, shoving the large man out of his way and yelling in his face. “Fuck off!” He thundered past Quinn without glancing her way and disappeared into the locker room, leaving everyone stunned.

Quinn winced at the loud banging of metal on metal that came from behind the closed door, looking to Clint for help. He shrugged and averted his eyes. “It didn’t go down well, Quinn.”

That much was obvious, but it didn’t explain Rick’s behavior. Or why he wouldn’t so much as look at her. Less than a minute later, Rick stormed back out of the locker room, once again passing Quinn without acknowledging her presence.

“Rick!” Quinn couldn’t let him leave like this. Not without an explanation as to why he was so angry and why it felt like that anger was directed at her specifically. She took a few steps with the intention of following him.

Without warning, Rick whirled around. Quinn flinched when she caught sight of the hostile expression he wore. “Don’t!” He stabbed a finger in her direction, warning her not to speak. “I can’t—” Rick was beyond agitated. She watched, helpless, as he tore at his own hair, his jaw clenched in frustration. Rick shook his head. “I can’t do this.” Before she could take another breath, he was gone.

Stunned and humiliated, Quinn could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she stood in the middle of the gym. She caught a glimpse of Mack, standing by himself doing that deep thinking thing he’d been doing a lot of lately. Clint must have sensed her impending breakdown, because he took her elbow and quickly escorted her back to her apartment. Once there, instead of losing it, Quinn was completely numb, unable to process the rapid-fire events of the last ten minutes.

“Here.” She felt a glass of water being pressed into her hand as Clint led her to the couch. He dropped into the ratty old armchair opposite where she sat and leaned over the coffee table to talk. “Rick is angry.”

A slightly hysterical giggle bubbled up from Quinn’s throat. “You think?” She gaped, struggling to explain how she felt. “I don’t get it? Is he gone? Why is he angry with me? What—”

“He is angry, but it’s—” he sighed. “It’s misdirected at you.”

“I don’t understand.”

Clint’s mouth twisted up, clearly uncomfortable having to be the one to tell Quinn what had Rick acting so out of character.

“He had Travis in his sights… could have taken him out. But—”

Oh.

“But he didn’t because I made him promise not to.” When it clicked into place, she suddenly felt suffocated, as if the room were closing in on her.

Clint took her hand and awkwardly patted it. “He’ll come around. He just needs some time. Rick isn’t used to failure. And he isn’t used to caring.”

Quinn vaguely remembered nodding as Clint said something about having Mara check on her later and the guys watching her apartment on the security cameras. She heard the quiet click of her front door and she was alone.

Still numb, she kept her emotions locked up tight, too afraid to let them out because they might send her down a hole she couldn’t climb out of. Shutting off her mind, Quinn went through the motions, showering and climbing into bed. As she stared at the ceiling fan, watching it go round and round in slow circles, she wondered if Rick would ever forgive her.

It was nearly a week after the failed mission and Quinn still hadn’t heard from Rick. Not a phone call, not a text, he hadn’t even shown up for work. Frankly, Quinn was beginning to feel more pissed off at his selfishness than she did worried.

“Hey. You want to learn this or not?”

Quinn was startled from her thoughts. “Sorry, Tucker. Yeah, I do want to learn.”

“Cool.” Tucker continued explaining how to use the different components of Sanctum’s sophisticated computer system, oblivious to Quinn’s anxiety.

After finding her moping around the gym, waiting for Rick to magically appear, Tucker pulled her into Mission Control and began to show her exactly what Sanctum was capable of. Now, five days later, Quinn was hacking into files all over the world, collecting intelligence for clients (aka the US Government), and gathering info for Mack’s operations.

She was grateful for the distraction, but honestly, Quinn really wanted to talk to Rick and make sure he was okay. Even though she was madder than hell that he blamed her for his failure to catch Travis, she couldn’t deny that she loved him. Before she met Rick, Quinn couldn’t have imagined trusting anyone enough to fall in love, let alone have feelings so strong that she literally felt ill at the thought of not being with him again.

They continued gathering intel for an operation Tucker said was to take place the following week. Dane stopped by several times throughout the week to see what they had compiled, since he was going to be the team leader when the operation hit the ground.

“So…” Dane tried to be casual as he scrolled through the files they had downloaded to his laptop.

Quinn glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “So what?”

“Just wondering if you’d heard from Rick.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line, her nerves worn thin. “No, Dane. I haven’t. Just like the last four times you asked.”

“Okay, okay.” He held his hands up in defeat. “I’ll stop bugging you.”

“Thanks,” she snapped, irritated that not only was Dane constantly asking about Rick, but that Rick was still gone. Quinn turned to Tucker who was speaking to someone on his ever-present Bluetooth. “Should we bring this stuff to Mack?”

Tucker held up one finger for Quinn to wait. He finished his call and threw his earpiece onto the desk. “Mack’s not in. That was him on the phone. He’s been working remote since Tuesday.”

“Oh. I hadn’t even noticed.” Great, now she felt bad that she’d been so wrapped up in her own problems she had no clue Mack hadn’t been at work the last few days. The man took her in, treated her like his own, did everything in his power to get Travis, and she couldn’t be bothered to stop by his office long enough to notice he was missing.

Tucker shrugged. “He’ll be back tomorrow.”

Mack would be back tomorrow, but would Rick? Not knowing hurt like hell. “I think I’ve had enough for today.” Quinn pushed away from the desk, not meeting Tucker or Dane’s curious stares.

“You can sit in while I brief Mack and the team tomorrow morning at ten. See what it involves,” Tucker called out as Quinn left the room.

“I’ll be there.” She waved good-bye over her head and crossed the gym. Quinn caught Xavier’s attention and waited patiently by the door while he ran to the locker room before joining her in the lobby. Even though this was the third day in a row that one of the guys escorted her upstairs, seeing a large, loaded firearm in their hand reminded her that she was still in very real danger.

“Let’s go, Quinn.” Xavier went first, scanning the area carefully like the professional warrior he was trained to be. Nodding, she trailed on his heels as they scaled the stairs to her small apartment. Once there, Quinn unlocked the door for Xavier, waiting for his signal that it was okay to follow him inside.

“It’s clear. See you tomorrow morning, Quinn. Is nine okay?” Xav’s dark eyes and kind expression made her feel more relaxed, but did nothing to heal the gaping hole left by her wayward soldier.

“Yes. Nine.” She was exhausted, mentally and physically. All she wanted was to see Rick, to clear the air between them. Selfishly, Quinn needed him and he wasn’t here for her. More importantly, he wouldn’t let
her
be there for
him
. She understood that he was angry, that he felt confined when she forced his hand with Travis. If he would just call or show up they could discuss it like adults.

Quinn stripped and climbed into bed and just like every night over the last three days, she didn’t cry before going falling to sleep, the blissful numbness still helping to keep her emotions shuttered up tight.

Rick flicked through the different keys on his keychain, struggling to find the correct one. With no moon to brighten the night sky, it was nearly pitch black outside the door, making his task near impossible.

Cursing, it took him three tries to finally get the correct key into the lock. Rick needed to speak to Quinn, he knew it. He reacted badly the other day— okay, so he was an asshole. Who’s perfect? At least the five days he spent with his brother gave him time to think about everything. After seeing what a normal, healthy relationship was, it led Rick to come to the conclusion that above all else, he
had
to be with Quinn. No matter the cost.

As Rick unlocked the bolt and pushed open the door, entering the dark foyer, he knew that getting some distance, leaving town, had helped him prioritize his life. Unfortunately, priority number one was currently aiming a very large handgun at his head.

“Whoa! Doll, it’s me. Please put the gun down.”

Rick stood motionless in Quinn’s apartment, cautiously eyeing the gun that dwarfed her small hand. His heart nearly stopped at the impossible image in front of him. Tiny Quinn, amber eyes wide and frightened, her arms trembling as she held up the dull, black pistol.

“Rick?” The relief in her voice nearly brought him to his knees.

“Yes, doll. Please… lower the gun.”

A sob hitched in her chest as her shaking hands came down. She dropped the gun onto the couch and collapsed into his arms.

“God I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you like that. I had the guys watching over you but… you must have been terrified.” Rick pulled her close, closing his eyes to enjoy the feel of Quinn’s body against him. Such a fucking shithead, leaving Quinn to deal not only with a psychotic ex-husband stalking her, but his chilling outburst followed by days of silence.

“You’re here now.” Quinn clutched at his clothing, pressing herself so tightly against Rick that it felt as if she were trying to climb inside him.

“I am here. I’ll never leave you again, doll.”

“But you did leave me,” she whispered, releasing his shirt and taking a hesitant step back. “Where were you?”

The anguish on her beautiful face cut into him like a knife, slicing his heart into tattered ribbons.

“I—I needed time away. I was so angry, Quinn.” Rick didn’t know how to explain why he had gone without upsetting her further. He already knew it was a douche move. No need to make it any worse.

Naturally, Quinn wouldn’t accept his pathetic explanation.

“Angry with
me
, you mean.” Her full lips turned into a frown.

This was not going well. Taking her hand, Rick guided her over to the couch, pulling her down to sit next to him. Starved for contact, he kept their hands intertwined, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand as he tried to clarify why he was a total jackass.

“Not angry with you—” he winced, “well, kind of, but not.” Her frown got deeper, small furrows lining her forehead. “I’m not saying it right. I was pissed that I didn’t get my hands on Travis. In the moment, yes… I was angry that I couldn’t shoot him, take him out like the piece of shit he is. But—” Rick squeezed her hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a small kiss on her knuckles. He heard the sharp intake of breath pass through her lips and smiled against her hand. “But after taking the time to think… really think about what you said, I decided you were right.

“So yes. Originally I was angry at you for stopping me from killing your ex.” Quinn’s face twisted into one of anguish and it killed him to see her in such pain. Rick tugged her closer, their lips only inches away. “But I’m so glad you did, doll. You
shouldn’t
be okay with waking up next to a murderer. You’re way too good for that. And I want to wake up to you, Quinn. Every fucking day.”

“I’m not better than you, Rick,” Quinn murmured, squirming on the couch as Rick continued kissing her knuckles, turning over her hand to brush his mouth across her palm, down to her wrist.

“Still, gunning down a man in the back, no matter how I justify it, isn’t right. You deserve someone better than that.” Rick moved closer to Quinn, their knees bumping together gently. He let go of her hand so he could sweep back a stray piece of hair that had fallen over her face. Rick let his hand linger, tracing his finger down the shell of her ear, over the soft skin of her cheek until he used it to nudge her chin up towards him.