Quinn II (Undaunted Men #2) (9 page)

“Ho-ly shit,” Quinn murmurs, slowly pronouncing his vowels. Confused, I look around to see what Quinn sees.
 

I draw in a quick, sharp breath, feeling as if a sledgehammer has slammed into my chest. I think a sledgehammer would have felt better instead of witnessing the sight of Vince and his dark men as they surround us. Kimber is at Quinn’s side and lets out a low, menacing growl meant to intimidate and threaten, and I don’t have to see her to know her hair is standing on end.

“Easy, girl,” Quinn tells her in a gentle, soothing tone. “Stand down.” My heart pounds in my ears, and in a split second, the tension in the air is about to snap in two. I glance at Quinn and know immediately he’s calculating how to defend us, but it looks as if we’re outnumbered.
 

I count five armed men, and knowing Vince, those are only the ones he wants us to see. There's no telling how many more are at our backs, or possibly hidden behind foliage. Terror fills my lungs with a choking thickness, and I can’t breathe. I glance at Kimber who is waiting on one simple command from Quinn that would cause all hell to break lose. Vince's men begin closing in on us like a pack of wolves, and I freeze.

Quinn stands unwavering, unafraid, and undaunted as he holds his ground. With his right arm, he nudges me to scoot in behind him in one smooth move,
shielding me from imminent danger as he goes into protective mode.
How is he not shaking in his shoes?
If anything, he appears angered, as if Vince is the one who should be afraid of him.

Vince keeps his eyes on me as he ominously approaches, striding with an arrogant gait. When he gets about ten feet away from us, he flicks his gaze to Kimber, and I can tell he’s a bit leery of the dog. He then jerks his chin upward in a quick motion, silently telling me I’m to go to him. I hesitate, standing numb with fear behind Quinn.
 

My eyes stay locked on Vince’s. I’m barely able to shake my head. I don’t want to go to him. Vince narrows his eyes, looking highly perturbed that I haven’t made haste. He raises his right hand in the air and snaps his fingers with a foreboding sound that makes the air crackle with imminent threat. His men have moved in with their weapons drawn and aimed at us, or presumably Quinn. My eyes dart back and forth between Vince and Quinn as they stare each other down in standoff. A full-body shudder rolls through me, leaving my legs feeling weak and wobbly.

Quinn blindly finds my hand and gives me a reassuring squeeze, as if he's got this entire situation under control. Vince grows agitated, and it reflects in his voice. “Alexis,” he warns. He holds his hand out in invitation, and I know if I don’t go to him some serious shit will be going down. I’ve known Vince my entire life, and as of late, he's become a loose cannon. I now know what he’s capable of and what he’ll do.

I pull my hand out of Quinn’s firm grip and take a step forward. Quinn stops me, grabbing me by my upper arm with questioning eyes. I can’t explain things to him right now, but I believe if I play my cards right, I can get him out of this alive. Vince just wants me and nothing more; I know this. He thinks I’ve belonged to him since we were five. I can handle him. I tug my arm back, disengaging from Quinn’s hold, and look toward Vince. I can’t let Vince know that Quinn means something to me, or he’ll hurt him, if not kill him.

“Lexi,” Quinn whispers under his breath. I hear the hurt and confusion in his voice, but I ignore him, and stoically take another step forward.
 

His men are very intimidating with their guns drawn, putting the fear of God into me, and, of course, there's no help in sight. The place is desolate. My hands are trembling, so I fist them to keep them still. Oddly, Vince isn’t looking at me anymore; he’s staring Quinn down with a loathing I don't understand.
Why do they have to have all these men and guns just to capture me?
Something feels terribly off with this scene.

With Vince being so unpredictable lately, I have to be smart about my every move. I begin to formulate a hundred excuses in my head, all to appease Vince for my leave of absence. I mentally brace myself for his coming wrath.

I’ll have to find a way to steal a moment alone with Quinn at some future point to account for my actions. I can’t have Quinn getting hurt on my account, and this is exactly what I have feared all along. Someone innocent has already lost their life because of me.

Vince continues to hold out his hand for me as I slowly amble my way toward him. Surprisingly, he's in camo gear and boots. I never even knew he owned such attire. I've only ever seen him in fancy dress clothes.

As I get closer to Vince, I step from the soft grass and onto the hard gravel of the parking lot. The rocks protest as they crunch underneath my boots. Kimber lets out another low, threatening growl, and I close my eyes, just wanting to die. I hear Quinn behind me, chastising her in a low voice. I want to glance back at them, but it would only serve to piss Vince off, and he’s already radiating murderous vibes.

My insides are shaking, and my stomach is in knots. No sooner do I get within an arm's reach of Vince, he pulls me into his hard body, embracing me as if we’re long lost lovers. I try to shield myself from being pressed against him by placing my hands against his chest, but it doesn’t matter. He has me trapped in a bear hug.

He whispers in my ear so only I can hear, “You’ve been a bad girl, Lexi. Did you have a nice vacation with your fuck-buddy? I hope so, because it’s over now.” I shiver at his words. “You got attached to him; I can tell. If you want him to live another day, you’d better kiss me like his life depends on it, because it actually does,” he threatens then nips at my ear, adding, “You know I won't hesitate to kill him, Lexi. One wrong word, one wrong kiss, and it’s over. I will make you watch as I take him down myself…slowly. Do you want his blood on your hands?” He asks, pulling back to look at me, arching a brow.

I swallow hard, and whisper, “No.” I feel like worms are crawling all over my skin, and the clammy feeling makes me want to vomit.
 

“Then you better give me everything I want and more. It's the least you can do since you ran away on our wedding day.” Vince firmly grips me by the back of my hair and tilts my head to the side, crushing his lips to mine in a show of ownership. He starts off with the most pornographic kiss of all time, and my stomach sinks. His tongue makes a blatant show of sliding past my lips while he tastes every inch of my mouth.

I close my eyes tightly, desperately trying to pretend I’m kissing Quinn, but everything is off, and it proves difficult. Vince slips his leg in-between mine, his other hand lowering to support my back as he presses himself into me.
Why is he doing this to me?! In front of men who are holding guns on Quinn!

I’m consumed by confusion, blackmail, and so many other questions, but I force myself to focus on Quinn. I think of my love for him and his safety, and with each swipe of my tongue, I tell myself this will save him.

I whimper out of panic, and Vince thinks I’m turned on and playing into his hands, giving him what he wants. Quinn will have to forgive me. He’ll understand once I explain my method of reasoning and Vince’s insanity.
Won’t he?
When Vince comes up for air, he looks down into my eyes with longing and desire, and then gives me an evil smirk, and I wonder what he's up to.
 

He pulls me into his side and presses my head against his chest, and his other hand splays protectively over my stomach. What he says next is loud enough for all to hear, and it makes me die a thousand deaths. He looks directly at Quinn, addressing him personally. “Thank you, Quinn, for taking care of my pregnant wife. I’m sure she gave you the well-practiced sob story of an unfortunate health condition that would keep her from conceiving, but in actuality, it all was a ruse.”
 

 
Oh. My. God. What the fuck is he doing? I'm too stunned into shock to do anything but stand here with my mouth ajar.
 

“You see, she’s been working for me this entire time.” I squirm to break free, but he compresses my head uncomfortably against his chest, trapping me. His heartbeat thrums loudly in my ear as he continues, “Don’t look so surprised, Quinn. You’ll get over the lies and betrayal, but to be sure you understand, she is mine, and she is indeed carrying my child.”

I begin to panic, because surely there is some sort of Morse code I can give him through my eyes to tell him none of this is true. I'm able to glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and the look of anger is splayed across his face.
 

I can barely hear the rest of Vince’s words as he drives another wedge between Quinn and me. “Remember that phone call she made last week? She was checking in with me until you so rudely disconnected our call; but no matter, she executed her task to perfection. Her job was to help us trap you.”
 

I feel his lips press against the top of my head in a show of a job well done.
How did he know about that phone call?
I’m confused as to what Vince means when he said I was part of his plans, helping to capture Quinn.
What do they want with Quinn, and how does Vince know his name?
 

“Yep, I'm afraid you’ve been played, Quinn. Outsmarted is more like it, and Lexi's father had played right into my hands, too. I told him you were the only one for the job. The only one with the skills to find my poor, pregnant, runaway fiancée, but what her family didn’t know is that we had already eloped.” My chest constricts, and I can’t breathe. I think I’m going to pass out.

Quinn speaks up, his warm, rich voice causing my heart to skip a beat. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you're doing, but you can let her go.”

“What? You don’t believe me?” Vince asks with false incredulity. Vince lifts my face between both his hands and gives me a chaste kiss. He then whispers over my lips, wearing a false smile, “It’s show time, baby. I’ll gut him personally with my pocket knife before your very eyes if you fuck this up, understand?” His voice is tense and edgy – terrifying actually.

I nod my head, fighting back the tears. I'm suffocating. I can't take in a breath; my lungs have deflated. Vince spins me around in his
arms, forcing me to face Quinn head-on, and I go rigid from head to toe. God, help me.

Quinn looks at me with a combination of confusion and duplicity. “Tell him, sweetheart. Tell your fuck-buddy the game is over,” Vince prods me from behind.

My eyes prick with tears, the familiar sting stabbing the back of my orbs. Quinn’s form goes fuzzy as I blink rapidly, trying to get him back into focus. My throat is tight. I don’t want to break us apart. I love him.
 

“Alexis,” Vince warns, prompting me to speak.

I glance down, making Quinn’s feet into a focal point, and choke back the impending sob, whispering, “It’s true.”

“I don’t think he heard you,” Vince bites out, and with those words, one of his men racks a bullet into the chamber of his pistol for show. It works, because Vince has my full attention now. My heartbeat comes to a screeching halt. I have an ungodly amount of emotions barreling through me, but the two most predominant are anger mixed with fear.
 

Vince startles me by using his fingers to pinch and twist a hunk of skin on my backside. It’s an unbearable pain, and I wince. With Vince standing behind me, no one can see what he’s doing. Fuck, it hurts. I want to wrench myself away, but I can’t. Anger for Vince courses through my veins, and I use it to funnel my outrage into my voice, projecting my words louder this time. “I said it’s true.” The words taste bitter rolling off my tongue.
 

Quinn’s brows knit together, his eyes silently begging me to tell him everything is one big lie. His voice comes out slow and measured, laced with hurt and a questioning disbelief. “Are you pregnant with his child, Angel?” God, why did he have to call me Angel of all things? I want to shake my head no while I say yes, but in that moment, Vince ruthlessly twists my skin harder. My teeth clamp together to avoid screaming out, and I fist my hands.

Vince and his men are evil. I know their type; they won't tolerate the slightest bit of insolence, and by the way they're pointing guns at Quinn, I can tell I'm skating on thin ice. I smile through clenched teeth, forcing my voice to remain steady and even. “Yes, Quinn. Everything Vince said is true.” I watch Quinn’s eyes as they display a fleeting look of surprise, then hurt and betrayal. I know he doesn’t want to believe me, because what he says next is like twisting a knife in my heart.

“Don’t,” Quinn says, shaking his head in disbelief, “don’t lie to me just because he’s standing here. Don’t do that to me…to us.” The look in his eyes is killing me, and I want nothing more than to run back into his arms and tell him it’s all lies. I feel Vince breathing down my neck, his breath hot and heavy, and his body tense. My stomach twists into a knot, and honest to God, the way his body is vibrating with malevolent energy,
I'm scared for the both of us at this point. Vince is fucking insane, and I’m not so sure he wouldn’t gut me too if I screwed this up.

I force myself to stand a little taller, and my nostrils flare as I breathe through the pain. My labored breaths of anger helping to create believability. “I’m not lying to you, Quinn. You played right into my hands. Why do you think I kept trying to get away from you? I drugged you that night I tried to escape. You never asked about it, but I think it crossed your mind. I had planted a tracker in your sleeping bag, so when I could make contact with Vince he would've known to move in. It proved very difficult, though, since you confiscated my cell phone.” I say anything detrimental that comes to mind in order to get Vince off my back, literally.
 

I watch as Quinn’s eyes morph into steely blue blocks of ice, narrowing as they fill with hate – hate for me. His hands clench into fists, and his chest heaves as he takes in a deep breath of unspoken fury.
 

I'm two seconds away from caving in and running back into Quinn's arms. Obviously, I can't. Vince has me in a death grip. It's a dangerous thought, and a decision Quinn can't afford for me to make. His hateful glare is so soul-crushing I have to turn away.