Wild Justice (Nadia Stafford 3)

He shrugged. "Up to you."

"Then yes, you are joking. The only thing that would make me feel worse than asking you to kill Aldrich for me is pretending I don't want you to, while hoping you'll do it. I'm not a coward, Jack--"

"Not cowardice. Misguided morality. Misplaced ethics."

I fought a lick of anger. "That's my choice."

"Yeah? You know what's not your choice? How you'll feel when Aldrich goes after another girl. He will and now you'll know it. You'll be watching. Something will happen. You'll blame yourself."

"I'm not walking away from this, Jack. I'm going to investigate and when I find something, I'll turn him over-- No, I don't even need to do that. I can turn him in now. I'll contact the police departments that were looking for him under other names, and I'll tell them where to find him." I leaned back in my seat. "That's what I'll do."

"That'll be enough?"

"It'll have to be. I can't justify killing him."

Jack drummed the steering wheel. Then he put the car in gear, tires chirping as he swerved from the curb.

Jack was pissed. And I felt terrible, because I'd refused his gift. Yes, that sounds fucked up, calling it a gift. But it was. He'd given me Drew Aldrich on a platter. I couldn't imagine how much work he'd done to find him and now I was going to turn Aldrich over to the police, as if he was just some random guy seducing underage girls. Jack had given me a chance for real justice, and I'd rejected it.

We drove around a bit after that. I asked Jack to take me to a car rental so he could go home. He didn't answer. When the silence got awkward, I checked my phone and immediately wished I hadn't. There were two voice messages and three texts from Quinn. I jammed the phone into my pocket, messages unplayed, texts unopened.

"Problem?" Jack said.

"No."

"Lodge?"

"No."

"Quinn?"

I said no again, but this time, there was enough hesitation to give me away.

"Fuck," Jack muttered, and I wished I'd been faster denying it. Even at the best of times, Quinn wasn't a subject Jack liked to discuss.

Professionally, Jack was fine with Quinn. He'd even brought him in on the job where we'd met. Personally, though, the less time they spent together, the happier they both were. For Jack's part, I think it could have been a simple case of "he's not someone I'd choose to hang out with." Quinn was too volatile, too brash, too sure of himself. Jack didn't "get" Quinn's vigilantism, but it didn't affect him, so it didn't bother him. To each his own. Except Quinn didn't see things like that. To him, Jack was a murdering thug. Quinn could grit his teeth and work with him, but he made no secret of the fact that he was gritting his teeth. And like anyone with an ounce of self-respect, Jack didn't take kindly to that. Quinn treated Jack with contempt, so Jack returned the favor.

Now Jack rubbed his hand over his mouth, then looked at me. "Didn't mean to call him. Figured he was in the loop. Didn't know . . . You two . . ."

"If I'd foreseen any chance you'd call him for anything, I would have told you, but under normal circumstances, you'd rather cut off a limb than talk about me and Quinn."

"Yeah. Still . . . Would have liked to know. So . . . everything okay?"

I nodded. "He's just checking up on me, a little freaked out by your call and wanting to know what's going on. I'll send him a text."

"Not what I meant."

I paused, then said, "He hasn't sworn vengeance and vowed to expose either of us. So there's no potential security breach."

"Fuck. You think that's what I'm worried about?"

"It was what you were worried about six months ago. You said I shouldn't get involved with Quinn because mixing my job and my personal life was a security risk."

He gave something like a sigh. "Yeah. Then. Not now. I just . . . Want to make sure you're okay. With the . . . ending."

I forced a wry smile. "You mean, did he break my heart? No. I'm . . . I'm hurt and bewildered but--"

"What'd he do?"