His (29 page)

Quinn

I hear a man’s voice.

“Quinn? Open your eyes for me. You’re safe. Andrew’s on his way.”

When I lift my eyelids, I see the face of Andrew’s security guy Steve. He’s kneeling next to me. My hands instinctively go to my throat, which is still burning.

“Don’t touch it,” Steve says, easing my hands down. “You’re okay.”

I start to sit up, looking side to side for my stepfather. “Where’s Paul?” My words come out in a croak.

“He’s restrained. Lie down, okay?”

His tone is so soothing that I let my head fall back down to the couch. My neck is throbbing, and I still feel the terror of not being able to breathe.

Paul is here. He’s inside the warehouse. I have to keep my gaze on Steve to calm my pounding heart and remember I’m safe.

A couple minutes later, I hear Andrew yelling my name from the kitchen. It sounds like he just came up from the garage and is looking for me.

“Where is she? Have you got him?” His voice is frantic.

Steve stands up. “She’s here. We’ve got him tied up in your office.”

Andrew’s gaze lands on me and his eyes widen. “What the fuck happened?”

He bends down and pulls me into his arms. I’m sore, but I need him to hold me tight right now so I don’t wince.

“Bethy,” I whisper in his ear. “He can’t know she’s here.”

“I texted Dawson on my way here,” Andrew whispers back. “He’s taking her somewhere safe.”

I want to relax, but I can’t. The tears come hard and fast. Andrew keeps his arms locked around me as I sob against his pressed white dress shirt.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m here now. You’re safe.”

“You can’t protect me from this.” It burns my throat to talk.

“Yes, I can. I’ll have her out of the country within a few hours. Trust me, okay?”

I nod. “What about Paul?”

“I’ll take care of him. You go upstairs and rest.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Andrew shakes his head. “You don’t need to be in there for this, Quinn.”

“Yes, I do. We said no secrets, didn’t we?”

He draws his brows together in a skeptical look. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“I want to choke the life out of that bastard,” I say. “He nearly killed me.”

Andrew releases me and looks at Steve. “How the fuck did he get in here?”

“He flashed his Senate ID at Micah and said he had a meeting with you.”

“No one gets in here unescorted.
No one.
Fire Micah and remind him of the NDA he signed when you hired him.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve says. “But . . . I think you should fire me as well.”

“I just might,” Andrew snaps. “This shouldn’t have gotten by you.”

Steve nods and gives me a pained look. “It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“We found a printout of a photo from an online magazine on the living room floor. It’s from that event you were photographed at. I was supposed to buy them all, and obviously, I missed one. That must be how he found you. I’m sorry.”

Andrew sighs heavily. “Let’s just clean this fucking mess up, okay?”

He takes my hand, and the three of us walk back to Andrew’s office. The closer we get, the stronger my sense of foreboding becomes. Looks like Paul was right. There
was
no escaping him.

At least Bethy’s safe. I clutch Andrew’s hand and remind myself that if Paul can’t find her, I can’t get into legal trouble. Hopefully. Paul is a very powerful man.

Paul is scowling at us from the floor, his hands and feet bound with thin ropes.

“I demand to be released,” he says. “You are holding a United States senator captive.”

Andrew looks unconcerned. “I’m holding an intruder in my home until the authorities arrive.”

“You didn’t call the police,” Paul says, practically snarling. “But I did before I got here. I said if they didn’t hear back from me within an hour, they should come here to investigate.”

“Nice of you to report your invasion of my home,” Andrew says. “Saves me the trouble.”

“I was let inside.”

“Under what pretense?”

I cut in. “What do you want, Paul? I’m an adult now, and I want nothing to do with you or my mother.”

“We wrote you off a long time ago,” he says with a sneer. “It’s Bethy we want back. God knows what you’ve put her through.”

“I saved her from sexual assault by you, you sick bastard,” I fire back.

“Let me go,” Paul says to Andrew. “You don’t know who Quinn really is. She’s a very troubled young woman.”

Andrew reaches down to the ropes tied around Paul’s wrists behind his back and hauls him up to his feet. He slams him face first into the wall, and Paul cries out in pain.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” Andrew says in a low, menacing tone.

Steve looks at the screen of his phone and glances up at Andrew. “There are people out front. Should we let them in?”

“Might be the police,” Andrew says, looking at me. “Sure, let them in.”

We all file out of Andrew’s office and into the living room. Paul actually hops since his ankles are bound. I keep my hand locked with Andrew’s, needing to feel his presence next to me.

When we get to the living room, the front door opens and Dawson steps inside with Bethy. His eyes slide to Paul’s for just a second. It’s almost imperceptible.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Andrew demands, glaring at Dawson.

I look at my sister and feel light-headed. She’s seen Paul, and the color has drained from her face.

“I’m just bringing Bethy back,” Dawson says. “Is there a problem?”

“I texted you other instructions,” Andrew says sharply.

“I must have missed that.”

Andrew shakes his head. “What the hell have you done, Dawson? You sold us out to this guy?”

Dawson scoffs. “It was only a matter of time, anyway. Quinn’s been angling to take over for me since she moved in here.” He turns to me. “I wish I would’ve kept walking when I saw you having a breakdown on that sidewalk.”

“Get Quinn and Bethy out of here,” Andrew says to Steve.

Steve nods and Andrew turns to me.

“He’ll keep you safe,” he says in a low tone.

“You aren’t taking my daughter,” Paul says to Steve, wrestling with the bonds on his wrists. “You don’t want to kidnap a senator’s daughter, do you?”

Steve ignores him. I go to Bethy and wrap my arms around her. She’s shaking. This was supposed to be over, and now it’s blowing up in our faces.

“We’ll be okay,” I say, trying to convince both her and myself.

But then I hear voices at the front door, and I realize it won’t. It’s the police. Paul apparently wasn’t bluffing about calling them.

Bethy bursts into tears. I’m too upset to cry at this point. I’m just numb. We were so close to freedom, but now it’s all over.

Andrew

Paul Shriver is a Grade A asshole. I knew it already from what Quinn told me and from what the private investigator I put on him came up with. But he proves it again when the police walk into the warehouse.

“I’m Senator Paul Shriver,” he says arrogantly. “And that’s my daughter, Bethy Bradley. She was kidnapped from my home four years ago.”

“I am
not
your daughter,” Bethy says.

Quinn has her arms wrapped protectively around her sister, and my love for her grows stronger. She’s the most selfless person I’ve ever known.

“She’s been brainwashed,” Paul says, shaking his head with disgust.

I speak to the three uniformed NYPD officers in my living room. “This man broke in to my home and choked my girlfriend. I have video.”

Paul’s eyes widen. I hope he’s shitting his pants right now. I decide to sweeten this moment a little more and show Quinn this bastard’s not untouchable.

“I know more about you than you realize, Senator,” I tell him. “Your dealings with Cargill. Melissa Shaw. Want me to enlighten everyone?”

“No.” He gives me a murderous glare.

“Bethy’s staying with us.” I leave no room for doubt. “I’m certain the missing person claim will be dropped. And since that’s settled, I don’t think we have any need for the police, do we, Paul?”

After a few seconds of silence, he says, “I suppose not. Untie me, and I’ll leave with the officers.”

“Whoa,” one of the officers says, putting up a hand. “We aren’t leaving here without getting some questions answered.”

“It was all a misunderstanding,” Paul says. “I’m the one who called you, and I apologize, officers.”

“We need to talk to the girl alone,” the officer says.

Quinn gives me a questioning look, and I nod. The officers take Bethy into the kitchen and talk to her privately.

Leaning close to whisper in my ear, Quinn asks, “Who’s Melissa Shaw?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

She nods and wraps her arms protectively around herself. I pull her into my arms and hold her close until the officers return to the living room with Bethy a couple minutes later.

“Okay,” one of them says, shaking his head. “If no one wants to file a complaint, I guess we’re done here.”

“Take this piece of shit with you,” I say, nodding toward Paul.

“Bethy, your mother misses you,” Paul says. “At least call her and let her know you’re safe.”

Bethy shakes her head. “You can tell her I’m safe. I don’t want to talk to her.”

Steve cuts the ties from Paul’s hands, and he leaves with the cops. Quinn gives me a questioning look as soon as the door closes behind them.

“That’s it?” she asks, her brow furrowed with disbelief.

“That’s it. I put a PI team on him last night, right after you told me his name. He’s done both unethical and illegal things to benefit an oil company that cuts him six-figure checks every quarter. He also beat a prostitute last year and paid her to keep quiet about it.”

Quinn shakes her head sadly. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Does this mean we’re not going to Paris?” Bethy asks, looking back and forth between Quinn and me.

“We can still go if you want,” I say. “Might be nice to get away for a while.”

“Can we wait? I need to catch my breath,” Quinn says. “Between Paul and Dawson and just . . . everything, I’m exhausted.”

I nod, thinking about what needs to be done now that Dawson and Micah have been fired. I need to call my attorney and reprogram the facial recognition program to alert security at a high level if either one of them comes onto the property.

“Bethy can go to school now,” Quinn says, tears shining in her eyes. “And we can get IDs in our real names. I never thought—”

She presses a palm to her mouth, and tears spill onto her cheeks. It’s all hitting her now.

“I never really thought it would be over,” she says softly. “Not unless they found us and we had to go back.”

I take her in my arms and hold her close to me. “It’s all over now. You guys won’t have to look over your shoulders ever again.”

She cries harder, and I realize how rarely I’ve seen this vulnerable side of her. I’m ready to show her my vulnerabilities, too. When Bethy goes upstairs to rest in her room and Steve returns from securing the warehouse, I sit down on the couch and pull Quinn onto my lap.

“You know why I live here?” I ask.

“You mean in New York?”

I shake my head. “No, the warehouse.”

“Because you like security.”

“That’s true,” I admit. “And I also needed space for . . . the upstairs stuff. But I need to live and work at the ground level. I have a thing about tall buildings because of 9/11.”

She presses her lips to my neck in a soft kiss. “That’s completely understandable.”

“Same with windows. I’ve always been a little obsessed with security because . . . I don’t even know why. My dad’s gone, and it made me feel closer to him to protect myself from having the same thing happen to me.”

“I don’t think anyone would ever blame you for that.”

I sigh against her soft hair. “I just wanted to tell you I’ve got my weaknesses, you know?”

“Thank you. I owe you my life, Andrew. And Bethy’s, too. No one’s ever had my back the way you do.”

“I always will. You’re stuck with me.”

She laughs, and I feel her warm breath against my neck. “You’re stuck with me, too. I love you.”

“I love you, too. You make me want to be a better person.”

“You’re already one of the best.”