Locked & Loaded (Ricochet 1)

Rick strode right up into Chase’s personal space, forcing the younger man to back away from Quinn so he could greet Rick.

“Hey man, I’m Chase. Are you the Muay Thai expert?”

She noticed that Rick grudgingly accepted Chase’s outstretched hand. He snapped at the young man as he answered. “Yeah, that’s me, kid.” Quinn flinched at Rick’s harsh tone. She’d never heard Rick be anything but polite.

Realizing that she no longer needed to be part of this conversation, Quinn decided she could sneak away for a bathroom break. Plus, there was way too much testosterone in the lobby and she didn’t want to be in the middle of it.

Quinn pushed back from her desk, circling around it to reach the locked inner door. Rick and Chase’s position in front of her desk forced her to walk past them, her arm brushing against Rick’s as she went. The contact made her gasp, causing both men to stare at her strangely.

Quinn tilted her head up to apologize and found Rick glaring at her with cold, harsh eyes. It was such a frightening stare that Quinn forgot what she had been about to say. Her mouth went dry and her skin broke out in prickly goose bumps. Freaked out, she hurried to the door, swiped her card, and ran down the hall to the women’s bathroom.

Quinn locked herself in a stall and leaned back against the door.

What just happened?

Rick seemed abnormally angry, and not just at her but at Chase as well. Quinn swallowed down her nerves and willed her thrumming heart to slow down. Maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. She frowned. It was very likely he woke up in someone else’s bed this morning. Jealousy streaked through her, unwelcome and frankly, very confusing.

She quickly used the bathroom and washed up. By the time she walked back to her desk, she was even more annoyed by Rick’s hostility. If he wanted to be a jerk, then that was his problem. Quinn was done bending over backwards trying to make unreasonable men happy. She suffered through two years of that with Travis and eighteen years with her dad before that. She was never going back to living that way.

As she passed by the door to the men’s locker room, she could hear Rick’s voice loud and clear, and he did not sound happy. More eavesdropping— Quinn decided there must be something wrong with her to constantly find herself listening in to Rick’s conversations. Maybe she was a stalker?

“Like I said kid, Quinn’s off limits, got it? She’s like family to Mack and I’m not going to

let anyone hurt her. So dial back the bullshit and keep it professional. Understand?”

Shocked and embarrassed, Quinn hurried back to her desk before anyone could catch her spying. She slumped into her chair, worn out from the crazy day.

Rick seemed to think Chase was flirting with her. Was that why he was angry? She bristled at Rick inserting himself in her personal life. He went out and fucked a stranger last night. What the hell business was it of his who flirted with her? Not that she’d ever take Chase up on it, but Rick doesn’t know that. Quinn knew she was in no shape to date anyone, even a charming blonde cutie with dimples and a perfect body.

Or a hot, aqua-eyed fighter who gets on my nerves and is a total player.

Whatever. Quinn’s head was beginning to ache. She refused to worry about Rick. If he wanted to be angry with her for Chase’s flirting, then he could just be angry all by himself. She shut down her computer and retrieved her purse, relieved to be done for the day.

The remainder of the week went by quickly, Chase came and went every day, acting polite but distant. Rick stayed back in the gym, so Quinn only saw him in passing here and there. They exchanged casual hellos, but that was it. It was better that way, she knew it. She had been getting too close to Rick, and her heart couldn’t sustain another bad relationship.

By Saturday, Quinn had cabin fever. She needed to get a beat up old car or check the bus schedule at some point. Being confined to the gym or her apartment was too reminiscent of her life back in Texas. Now that she was free to go wherever she wanted, Quinn intended on taking advantage of it. There were a few places she could walk to, but not many. Atlanta was definitely not a walking city.

Since she couldn’t really leave, she threw on a sports bra and a pair of shorts, figuring she could at least get some exercise. Plus, a workout would help her focus on something other than Rick’s hard muscles and chiseled jawline, not that she hadn’t used every opportunity possible to check him out this past week. For someone who swore to stay away from the sexy, dangerous, heart-breaking Rick Brennan, she was doing a terrible job of it.

She shook her head, setting her radio to a hits station. Quinn started with push-ups, then progressed to jumping rope, a routine she used to do in Texas without telling Travis. He would have beaten her if he knew she was exercising behind his back. He wanted to keep her weak and dependent. The thought made her push harder, work to be stronger, to never allow a man to control her again.

About twenty minutes into her workout, Quinn had worked up a good sweat and was starting to feel the natural high as the endorphins flooded her body. She stopped to grab a sip of water when she heard a knock at the door.

She froze.

Her old friend fear reared its ugly head again, clenching tight in her gut, forcing her heart to race and her breathing to pick up. The same paranoid thoughts that plagued her since she left Texas filled her head. Is it Travis? Did he find me? Will he finally kill me?

Even sweaty and hot from her workout, chills broke out all over her body. A voice called out from the other side of the door.

“Doll. It’s Rick.

RICK SMILED AS he stood on the small landing just outside of the tiny apartment above Sanctum. He could hear loud music playing inside, some top forty crap. What was Quinn doing— dancing, singing, cleaning while dancing and singing?

The locks disengaged and the door swung wide open. Rick nearly choked on his tongue at the sight in front of him. Quinn was standing on the threshold with a light sheen of sweat on her body, her hair pulled into a high ponytail, and wearing only a tiny blue sports bra and a pair of shorts so small they couldn’t possibly be legal to wear out in public.

Holy hell, I’m going to croak right here on her doorstep.

“Rick. What are you doing here?” Quinn’s amber eyes shone, but her face looked confused.