Wild Justice (Nadia Stafford 3)

"I know how you feel," I said. I lifted up to kiss him and then stopped myself. A wry smile. "And the current situation doesn't help. Frustration all around."

"Fuck, yeah."

He opened the door and held it for me. I walked in. Quinn was sitting in the armchair, with his back to us, and even when we walked in, me saying, "Hey," he didn't move and for one second, my heart rammed into my throat, thinking of Duncan's lifeless eyes . . .

Quinn rose. He moved stiffly, not turning.

"Hey," I said again as I walked around to the sitting area. "Everything okay?"

He turned and the look on his face . . . My heart jammed up again, certain he'd heard us at the door, brain whirring to remember what we'd said, what he could have heard, but there was nothing. Still that look . . .

"Cracked the password," he said.

"Hmmm?"

He lifted a cell phone and it took a moment to recognize it as the one we'd taken from the hitman.

"Broke the code," he said. "I was sitting around, waiting for some calls, and I decided to take a shot at it. I got it."

"Oh? That's good. Did you find anything?"

He met my eyes. He had blue contacts in, from earlier, and his gaze was ice cold. I opened my mouth to say something--I don't know what--but he stepped forward, phone out. I could see the tiny screen. There was a photo on it. At first, all I saw were trees, but that was enough. I knew what else was in that picture. Then I saw it. Jack and me, in the park, my arms around his neck as I kissed him.

"You like that one?" Quinn said. "How about this one?"

He flicked to a second picture. I didn't see it as Jack stepped between us.

"Okay," Jack said. "That's--"

"Enough? No, I don't think it's enough at all. We haven't even gotten to my personal favorite."

He sidestepped Jack and shoved the phone in my face before Jack could stop him. On the screen was a shot of me, with my back against the tree, legs wrapped around Jack, his hands on my ass, skirt pushed up. Jack grabbed the phone.

"You like that one, Jack? I bet you do. I bet--"

"Was a mistake," Jack said. "My fault. Went out for dinner. Nadia was upset. About Koss. Seeing him. Remembering t

he trial. We drank too much. I took advantage."

I tried to cut in, but Jack slid in front of me, his heel stepping on my toes, warning me to keep quiet.

"You took advantage?" Quinn said. "Huh. I don't see any resistance here."

"Because she was drunk. Drunk and hurting. Then the shooting started. After that? Apologized. We worked it out. Nothing else happened."

"And that was that. You guys worked it out, and nothing else happened."

"Right."

They locked gazes. My gut was roiling so hard I thought I was going to be sick. I don't know what was worse--letting Jack take the blame or pretending nothing happened. Both crossed an ethical boundary that wasn't fair to either of them.

"I--" I began.

"Nothing happened," Jack said. "It was all a mistake."

"Is that right, Nadia? You got drunk, Jack took advantage, and nothing else happened?"

"Isn't that what I said?" Jack cut in before I could answer.