The four men stood silent, each one considering the various possibilities.
“Well,” Clint said, “there are two large-ish cities, Roswell and Alpharetta, then— not much. Just suburbs then the lake.”
“Lake?” Tucker asked. “Maybe he has a boat?”
“How the fuck would he get a boat here from Texas, Tucker?” Rick snapped. He was itching for a fight, egging the man on so he could get one.
“Hey, fuck you Rick!” Tucker twisted in his seat, pointing angrily at his teammate. “Maybe he fucking rented one! Do you want me to immediately discredit the possibility or do you want me to be thorough?”
“You’re pissing me off, Tucker! Don’t lecture me on being thorough!” Rick took a step towards the other man, who responded by getting out of his chair, tossing his glasses on the desk, and raising his fists in front of him.
“Whoa!” Clint jumped between the two men, Xavier ready to help separate them if needed. “Let’s chill the fuck out, okay?” His gaze flicked back and forth from Rick to Tucker. “It’s tense in here, this whole fucked up situation is tense. But you’re not going to help Quinn if you’re at each other’s throats!”
Rick grumbled under his breath, knowing Clint was right.
“Got it, Rick?” Clint stared at his friend, almost nose to nose in the small room.
Rick exhaled, his shoulders dropping. He hated this feeling of uselessness. “Fine. Check for boats. I’m going to search Quinn’s apartment while you do that. I can’t sit here and do nothing.” The twitchiness and agitation had Rick wanting to scratch his own skin off. He was always slightly restless, but with the stress of the situation, the very real potential for Quinn to die today, plus the fact that he drank way too much caffeine… Rick felt as if he might explode at any second. He was a foreigner trapped in his own body.
Without another word, Rick spun on his heel and stormed out of the room.
It was easy to break into Quinn’s tiny apartment above the gym for the second time that day. Rick frowned, it was too easy. Making a mental note to get a better lock, he closed the door quietly behind him. Rick stood still for a moment. The reality that Quinn was gone finally hit him. It was already well past dinnertime and they still weren’t anywhere close to finding her. It was sinking in that there was a very good chance that she wouldn’t return.
Hang on doll. Just hang on a little longer.
I don’t give up. Almost a decade in the Marines, dozens of covert operations, and I’ve never left a man behind or left a mission incomplete. I will get her back.
Fuck! Easier said than done. He’d never had a mission like this, one in which his own future, his own personal happiness, was dependent on the outcome. His body shook and his knees nearly collapsed beneath him. Rick struggled to hold in the sobs that were causing his chest and eyes to burn like fire.
Man the fuck up, Rick. Quinn is depending on you to keep her alive.
Teetering on the edge of either falling apart or finding his girl, Rick fell into Marine mode, shoving away his grief and getting to work.
Chapter 3
Quinn opened her eyes to a dark room, the only light coming from the thin sliver of moon outside the window. Her head felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. A constant throbbing was squeezing it like a vice. She couldn’t see out of one eye and knew with almost absolute certainty that her left cheekbone was fractured. Quinn ran her tongue over her dry, swollen lips, flinching when she touched the areas that were split open.
With great effort, she pushed herself to a semi-sitting position, shocked to find that she was back upstairs on her childhood bed and her hands were untied. Quinn glanced around the room, ignoring the sharp pain that the action caused in her one good eye. She was surprised to see a glass of water and a damp washcloth on the side table.
Quinn scanned the rest of the room, knowing that Travis must be hiding out nearby, waiting to do something cruel. Why would he leave these things for her? Kindness was not one of her ex-husband’s best traits. In fact, it wasn’t a trait even remotely in his universe.
Desperate to feel clean, Quinn took the cloth, gently rubbing the blood off of her face and hands the best she could. It hurt so much she could hardly stand the pressure of the soft fabric on her skin.
The loud rumbling of a car starting in the driveway caused Quinn to pull all the way upright much too quickly. A hazy darkness clouded her vision for a moment, the urge to be sick rushing into her head. She stilled, waiting for the nausea to pass. Quinn could hear the car pull out of the driveway, the sound getting farther from the house with each passing second.
Did he actually leave?
Quinn’s heart fluttered in her chest. Could she escape? Maybe he thought she’d be unconscious longer than she was and he got careless. Maybe he ran out of food and had no choice but to go get some. Why would he leave her unbound?
She didn’t know and she didn’t care. She didn’t even know if it was midnight or almost morning. Even though the thought of moving made her sore muscles clench painfully in anticipation of the agony that was sure to follow, she took a deep breath to steel herself. Crying out at the fire that ripped through her damaged body, Quinn pushed through the torture and sat up on the bed.
It was too much. Quinn knew she had to hurry, but the effort just from sitting already had her panting heavily, which made her ribs feel like a hot poker was gouging into her side. Gritting her teeth, she went to swing her legs off the side of the bed.
Hope…
That damn traitorous bitch. She got me again.
Quinn should know better by now than to let hope in, but she did, every single time. And once again, hope failed her.