by Kylar Wilde
Healing Hearts
Quinn’s Girl
Kylar Wilde
Healing Hearts: Quinn’s Girl
By Kylar Wilde
www.KylarWilde.com
Copyright © 2020 by Kylar Wilde
First E-book publication: June 2020
Cover Designer: Ella Strong
All rights reserved.
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This novella is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
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Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
Disclaimer
This book is intended for adults (ages 18+) as it may contain explicit erotica and sexual content.
Contents may be offensive to some readers. Do not read it if you are under the age of 18 or offended by content as mentioned above.
The following story is for entertainment purpose only. The author takes no legal responsibility for any results of sexual acts depicted in this story, if you choose to practice them.
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Derek Hawkins, a ladies’ man has his eyes on Elle Walkers, a new and young nurse at Tampa Medical Hospital but his intellectual and physical charm have no effect on her at all. When Elle is placed on Derek’s service for a week, she is in for a whole new ride…
Get your free copy of Elle’s Scars,
the 1st book in the Healing Hearts Series of interconnected romance standalones.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Thank You
Also by Kylar Wilde
About the Author
Chapter 1
She couldn’t fight it on her own. This huge, black hole was pulling her downward, like a whirlpool pulls a swimmer into it, drowning her with no chance of escape. Why was her life so miserable? She had seen countless rich people living in mansions, driving cars that cost more than poor people make in twenty years, and sailing on yachts while hosting lavish parties. Ali had none of that. And not only did she have no money, she had no hope.
During her military days as a helicopter pilot, Ali met an old Russian soldier at a café on her return home. Like her, he had been scarred by war, but he had lost a leg and half his right arm. His English was broken, but he was a pleasant man, someone who just wanted to live out the rest of his life in peace. Know what he said to her? Hope dies last. That really struck Ali. No matter how down you were, no matter how desperate your situation was, human beings always clung to hope, even when it made no sense.
That’s where she was. Ali was standing on the precipice clinging on to hope at the age of twenty-nine. She had seen the figures. In 2012 alone, 7,500 former U.S. military personnel died by their own hands. That was more personnel than were killed in combat that year. At times, when she was wavering at the edge of that black hole, that bottomless pit of depression, anxiety and guilt, she thought she might join those ranks of people who found the idea of death more comforting than life. But she did have things to live for. Elle had been a dear friend, almost family to her, and she would die trying to protect her.
Ali Miller and Elle Walker were one of the “Forgotten Ones” as people called them. Ali was one of the best helicopter pilots. When there were people in desperate need of rescue, they sent Ali out to get them. She had nerves of steel. She could fly her chopper into an active war zone, get her people and get out of there without batting an eye. Bad weather, RPGs, heat-seeking missiles, none of that affected her. Elle on the other hand, was an army nurse in her early twenties who was often on Ali’s chopper tending to the wounded soldiers. She was good at what she did and had patched up countless soldiers adeptly even when on a flying chopper. They both have deep respect for each other’s craft and forged firm friendship. When a small army base in Afghanistan used mainly as a medical center was attacked, both of them were captured by the insurgents. Ali had caught the eye of one of the insurgents and he would often rape her along with the torture she had to endure.
The months of physical and psychological torture made Ali messed up in her head. She had lost confidence and hope to live a normal life. Her PTSD was off the charts and she was often living on the streets when she was not with her abusive junkie boyfriend, Matt Culler. A week ago, Matt was stoned out of his mind and accused Ali of cheating on him. After a few punches to which Ali retaliated, Matt grabbed his gun. There was some scuffle before he pulled the trigger and grazed Ali on the right of her abdomen. She got the gun down from her army training, knocked him out and escaped. She ran without stopping to catch her breath until she reached Elle’s doorstep and had been holding up at her place ever since. Elle’s boyfriend Derek, who was a cardiologist at the same hospital where Elle was working as a nurse, had helped to stitch Ali’s wound that night. He also called his older brother for help seeing how Ali could be in danger.
And that was how this handsome man, Quinn Hawkins, appeared in her life. She liked him from the moment she saw him at Elle’s place and she could tell he was intrigued by her. Could there actually be a possibility that she might find someone, someone to love and cherish, a partner to build a life with? Was it possible, actually possible, that she might have a normal life and raise a family? No, that was too much to ask.
The phone suddenly rang. “Hello,” Ali answered.
“It’s Quinn,” said a male voice in a rush. “Remember me?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“I have to speak with you right now,” he said emphatically.
She felt a surge of hope. “Did you catch him?”
“Can I come visit you right now?” he said. “I’m outside Elle’s apartment building.” He paused. “Is Elle there?”
“Yes, she’s here,” Ali said, surprised by the insistence in his tone. “I’ll tell her you’re coming.”
Two minutes later a knock sounded on the door. Ali opened it to Quinn, the good-looking and interesting man who had suddenly come into her life. He stood about six feet tall with two hundred pounds of muscles and sported the kind of sculpted veiny arms that Ali always looked out for in men during her time in the military. His dirty-blond hair was neatly clipped at the sides and with floppy layers on top. Overall, he had an attractive face with blue-brown eyes. It was not only because he was handsome, it was something else, something deep and profound that drew her to him. She could tell he had suffered just as she had. On the night she met Quinn, she learned from Elle that he was an ex army ranger
who had now carved a new life as a detective. He was thirty-five years old and had not been in a relationship for years since he left the army as he was battling his own demons. He had however slowly picked himself up seeing how he had helped many people while on the job.
The moment they made eye contact, Ali remembered something her late mother had said. In speaking about marriage, her mother said that when two people fall in love, they do not double their burden, they help relieve the other person’s burden. That’s just how she felt. Maybe Quinn was the man. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that fate had thrown them together when she most needed someone.
Yes, hope does die last.
“What is it?” she asked, smiling at him.
He rushed into the apartment and Ali, definitely surprised by his bold action, closed the door and turned to him.
“Listen to me,” Quinn said to Ali and Elle, who was just coming out of her bedroom. “We have just received information that I need to tell you.” He gave them hard looks. “As you know, Ali’s ex, this Matt Culler guy, is more than just a wasted junkie. He is dangerous. We picked up one of his friends this morning on a drug bust and he offered us information if we would let him go. We took his offer and here’s the reality. This guy you were dating, Ali, has gone off the deep end. In his mind you’ve betrayed him and he’s become almost psychotic, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. The friend told us Culler has a new fascination with some freak from the Middle Ages.”
“He’s insane,” Elle said.
“That’s an understatement,” Quinn replied. “Not only is he a maniac, he’s got this vision of a big event. The way he described it to his friend is that he wants to go out in a blaze of glory. He plans to kill you, Ali. For some reason he thinks Derek and Elle have conspired against him too, perhaps because you three are always together now. All three of you are on his kill list.”
“Can’t you find him?” Ali asked in a frantic tone, more concerned about her friends’ safety than her own.
“We’re trying, but in the underworld, they have a whole infrastructure. They can move people around without getting caught. It’s almost like the spy world. They have safe houses, people who will not talk even if they’re tortured, and financial resources. Apparently, your ex has gone out of state, but not far out of state, and he’s got his hands on an AK-47, over a thousand rounds of ammo, and a bag of explosives. He’s prepared for major mayhem.”
“Good God,” Elle said, her eyes opening wide.
Quinn gave them a meaningful look. “Apparently he contacted his friend this morning and said he’s on his way back with all the weaponry. He’ll be here by late afternoon. That’s all we know. He may be driving a different car and may even be wearing a disguise, but one way or the other, it’s a countdown now. Once he’s here, he’s going to wait for the perfect moment to strike.”
“What should I do?” Ali looked at Elle like someone who is shell-shocked. “What should we do?”
“Here’s where we’re at. The police cannot watch you twenty-four hours a day, Ali. If we did, he would just stay back and bide his time until the opportunity presented itself. My superior want you to go into hiding.”
“What do you mean? You want me and Elle to get a different apartment down the street and live like prisoners, never going out? That’s no life, Quinn.”
“No, we have a different plan, but it entails the two of you being ready to leave within an hour.”
“Leave for where?” Ali queried with exasperation. “Where am I going to go? I have no money, no family, no connections.”
“I’m getting to that,” he said, trying to calm her down. “One of the officers in the department comes from a rural area in another state two thousand miles from here. He has a house that’s just been left to him as part of an inheritance, but he doesn’t want to sell it for now. As it turns out, he’s friends with the police chief there and apparently there have been some murders in that area which they think may well be the work of a serial killer.”
“What has this got to do with us?” Ali asked, pointing from herself to Elle. “What difference does it make to me if there’s a serial killer two thousand miles from here? What are you talking about, Quinn?”
“Because I have the training,” Quinn explained, “and this police force hadn’t recorded a murder in fifteen years, not to mention a frigging serial killer, he asked if I could help out, talk to them on the phone and maybe look at evidence over Skype, that sort of thing. Now my chief has come up with the idea that I could go there and help on the case, taking you, Elle, and Derek with me.” He looked hopefully at them. “It should only be a temporary situation, you know, until this lunatic is caught, but at least you could sleep more peacefully. Right now, you can’t. Even if you stayed inside, there’s no reason to believe he won’t show up at this apartment building with cans of gasoline at three o’clock in the morning one of these days.”
“Oh, my,” Ali said, cringing at the thought.
“He would have no problem in killing a hundred people if it meant killing you.”
“I want to go,” Ali said. “Elle?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Quinn, I assume Derek is updated on this?”
“He is and he is concerned for your safety too. He has informed the hospital about this temporary urgent departure for the both of you. There’s another house a few miles away that the chief said both you and Derek can use. Everything’s paid for. I help with the investigation there and you guys hide until the madman is captured.”
“Let’s do it,” Ali said, her heart in her throat.
The women started packing fast, taking only what they absolutely needed. As they packed, Quinn explained that the four of them would be driving across the country in his car and that Derek was waiting for them. It was no more than fifteen minutes before the trunk was loaded with essentials and the four of them were headed for the little town of Hidden Grove.
Chapter 2
They hardly spoke for the first hour, instead trying to look relaxed in Quinn’s 2020 grey Impala. It was then that Quinn revealed more on what he had found out. The authorities had identified one accomplice for the crazy boyfriend, Matt Culler, but though they knew his name, Aryan Prince, they could not locate either individual. The Prince family pulled big weight in the criminal community and it was understood that Matt Culler’s father had saved the life of Aryan Prince’s father in a prison fight. Rumor had it that the Prince family did agree to conceal and aid Culler, but they would not participate in the attack, and they condoned only the killing of Ali, Derek, and Elle, along with any boyfriend Ali might have. Now that he would be living with Ali, Quinn was persona non grata. But no other casualties were to be allowed.
By the time his informants would tell Culler that Ali had disappeared, however, she would be long gone, along with Derek and Elle, and with Officer Quinn Hawkins. Other than Quinn’s superior, only two outsiders knew where they were going— the officer who told them of the opportunity, and the commanding officer. They swore to secrecy.
“They want us held tight,” Quinn told his companions with that special look of seriousness. “They think this guy is prepared for Armageddon, possibly something bigger than anything before. If he could get his hands on a nuclear device or a malignant virus, he would. He’s that dangerous. But the streets aren’t talking. He’s either dead or hiding so deep in some rat hole that no one can find him. Right now, they have no idea what state he’s even in. The main thing is keeping you three hidden, especially Ali. The longer he’s out there the more chance there is for a mistake, or maybe someone comes forward because he knows what might go down and he wants no part of it.”
“This Matt Culler doesn’t sound like the Matt I knew. I knew he was a junkie but not a maniac,” Ali sighed with a look of disbelief in her eyes. “Tell me what he said about me,” Ali asked Quinn from directly behind him. “Don’t hold anything back.”
He adjusted the rear-view mirror and looked her in the eye. “Are you su
re?”
“Yes,” she said, then pointed at Elle and Derek. “They have the right to know as well.”
“Matt Culler has always had a fascination with Dracula,” Quinn said, “as I’m sure Ali knows.”
“I never thought there was anything too far out about that, to be perfectly honest,” she responded. “Dracula is one of the most popular books ever written. Practically everyone has picked up a copy of Dracula.”
“I don’t mean Count Dracula from the Dracula novel. I meant Vlad Dracula. The character Count Dracula was actually inspired one of the best-known figures of Romanian history, Vlad Dracula better known as Vlad the Impaler, ” Quinn explained, adjusting the mirror back to its original position. “Ali, your boyfriend has a tattoo of Dracula on his penis. Did that really not strike you as odd? Or the fact that people said he could recite hundreds of gruesome vampire poems? He once went around the neighborhood on recycle night, collected animal blood from meat trays, then drank it.”
“I didn’t know about that,” Ali disputed. “I’m hearing for the first time from you.”
“You didn’t know him very well then, did you?”
“Not really. I was homeless, Quinn. Try it sometime. Living in a cardboard box and keeping out the rain with garbage bags is all you’re trying to do. Day by day, just like the song. Was he messed up? Sure he was messed up, but so was I.” Ali rubbed her eyes. “When I was younger, I visited an opium den with an older man. He used, but I didn’t, I just watched. I was there maybe twelve hours. Some of those men were so intoxicated that you would have had to drag them out if the building caught fire. They could not move. They had their eyes open; they could look at you, see you, understand you, but the motor was gone. Matt used a lot of drugs, but his motor never stopped. For the most part, believe it or not, he was nice to me. He brought me food, fixed up a real respectable shelter for me, complete with a bed and everything. Men harassed me before he came, but after he showed up they backed off. I liked that. I liked the fact that he had scary eyes. But now I know why and I don’t like it. Still, I want to know what he said. Tell us.”