If that wasn’t an invasion of her privacy, she wasn’t sure what was.
“And why exactly are you here? If I remember correctly, the last time we spoke you told me there were absolutely no circumstances under which I would be getting my job back. You also said that I may as well leave town.” She waved a hand around the apartment. “As you can see, I left town.”
Darren took two large steps forward, shrinking the space between them. “I know. I feel terrible about how things ended, particularly because you and Tanya are such good friends. My hands were tied. That’s why I’m here, to check that you’re okay.”
He was here to check that she was okay? Yeah, right.
Quinn scoffed. “You fired me for doing my job. The only thing I’m struggling with is the why behind it all.”
“You know why you were fired, Quinn. I told you to drop the story. I told you we weren’t publishing it. You kept digging. You went against a direct order and forced my hand.”
“And tell me again why I couldn’t write the story.”
Darren’s eyes turned sympathetic. “I know losing your job was hard.”
Quinn didn’t miss that he’d dodged the question. She also didn’t want the man’s sympathy. She highly doubted any of it was genuine. “Are you here to offer me my job back or to tell me the real reason I was fired?”
He looked at her as if she were a child. “I’ve told you why you were fired. I wish I could offer you your job back. You’re a damn good journalist. But I can’t.”
“That’s bull. You’re the executive editor.”
“If you’d just done what I’d asked, you’d still have your job. You’ve only got yourself to blame.”
Quinn shook her head. “I’d like you to leave.” Because the guy clearly wasn’t going to tell her what she needed to know.
Darren reached his hand out, placing it on her arm. “Is this really about losing your job, or is this about us?”
Quinn took a hurried step back. Even that small touch made her skin crawl. “Us?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember that night, Quinn.”
Quinn wanted to gag at the memory. “First of all, we were both drunk. Second, you plastered your lips onto mine before I could pull away. Thirdly, you’re married! The only reason I didn’t tell Tanya was because you begged me not to. Said it had never happened before and would never happen again.”
Walking around him, she pulled the door open. “If you have nothing constructive to add to this conversation, then please leave.”
Darren frowned. “I flew all the way over here to see you. I thought maybe I could sleep on your couch for the night.”
Quinn laughed out loud. “Maybe you should have called, and I would have saved you the trip. The answer is no.” Yes, she was good friends with his wife, but that in no way made her responsible for giving the guy a place to sleep. “There’s an inn and a motel both within a few minutes’ drive. I’m sure one of them has a vacancy.”
Darren moved to the door, but instead of walking out, he stopped in front of her. “Okay, I’ll leave. But before I do, I need to know something. Have you dropped the story?”
The story? As in, the one that got her fired?
Ah. So that’s why he was here. Finally, it was making sense. Darren hadn’t flown two thousand miles to check that she was okay. He’d flown all this way to ask her in person if she’d dropped the story. Because, just like her, he liked to get his information in person.
“I know how you get when you find a story,” Darren continued. “You don’t let it go until you’ve acquired all the facts and it’s published. I need you to tell me you’re dropping this one.”
There was an urgency in his voice that hadn’t been there before. It intrigued the hell out of Quinn.
First, the man fired her for looking into the break-in. Now, he’d flown across the country, spending both money and time, to check that she’d let it go.
Why? What was it about this story that was so important to warrant both actions?
“Why is it so important I let this one go?”
His eyes lifted and he looked around the room. There was a nervousness about his expression. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Some drugged-up street thugs are probably responsible for the whole thing, and I doubt they’re people you want to mess with.”
Except drugged-up street thugs weren’t organized enough to pull off what happened at Novac. Quinn knew that. And she sure as hell knew that Darren knew that.
All of his actions and words just confirmed for Quinn that this was a story that needed to be investigated. Not that she was about to tell Darren that.
“My safety is not your concern.”
A wave of frustration passed over his features. “So you’re still researching it?”
Quinn didn’t answer. It wasn’t any of his business either way. He wasn’t her employer anymore. He wasn’t her anything.
The frustration fell from Darren’s face, to be replaced by…desperation?
Reaching out, he grabbed her arm in a tight grip. His fingers digging into her skin, causing pain to shoot up to her shoulder.
Immediately, Quinn tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. “Let go. You’re hurting me.”
He didn’t let go. Instead, he stepped closer, his fingers tightening. “I’m not messing around, Quinn. You need to drop it.”
She firmed her voice. “Unless you want a knee to your balls, get your hand off me right the hell now.”
Chapter 5
Wyatt stepped out of his car. It had been a long day at work. A large chunk of it had been spent searching for Commander Hylar. The man shouldn’t be so hard to find, but he was.
The search was both exhausting and frustrating.
Pushing through the entrance of the apartment building, Wyatt headed up the stairs. If all went to plan, his night would entail a cold beer followed by a night of doing nothing.
No computers. No searching. No work.
When Wyatt reached his floor, he did what he always did—attempted to block out the hum of people from the surrounding apartments. This evening, one of those voices caught his attention.
Quinn.
“Let go. You’re hurting me.”
Wyatt stopped as a male voice followed. “I’m not messing around, Quinn. You need to drop it.”
Wyatt was moving again before the man had finished speaking.
He arrived at Quinn’s apartment in time to hear her threat. “Unless you want a knee to your balls, get your hand off me right the hell now.”
Wyatt took in the scene in front of him. A man had his hand on Quinn. Was threatening Quinn.
Big mistake.
Moving to stand beside her, Wyatt towered over the man. “You have one second to remove your hand, otherwise I’ll be adding a broken arm to the bruised balls.”
The guy turned his head and studied Wyatt. He didn’t remove his hand.
Another mistake.
Grabbing the arm that was holding Quinn, Wyatt squeezed in what he knew was a painful grip. The asshole let out a yelp, immediately releasing Quinn, and Wyatt shoved him against the wall.
Fear crossed the stranger’s face. “Who the hell are you?”
Wyatt moved a step closer so that only a few inches separated their faces. “I’m someone you don’t want to mess with. I suggest you leave this building immediately. And if I catch so much of a glimpse of you again, you’ll regret it.”
Wyatt listened as the man’s heart begin to gallop. “This is none of your business.”
Oh, but it was.
The guy attempted to pull his arm from Wyatt’s grip. That wasn’t going to happen. “The second you put your hand on her, it became my business.”
After another few seconds, Wyatt released the man but positioned himself in front of Quinn. He was giving the guy the chance to leave on his own but wouldn’t hesitate to provide “assistance” if required.
Quinn stepped beside Wya
tt. “Darren, just leave.”
The man looked angry. But he clearly knew he had no choice in the matter. “Fine. I’ll leave. But I meant what I said.”
Wyatt watched the guy leave before turning to Quinn. He studied her face, expecting to see fear. Maybe some uncertainty or dread.
He saw none of those things. The woman glared at the closed door with nothing but rage.
Touching her elbow, Wyatt didn’t take his eyes off her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t expect him to grab me like that. Lesson learned. Don’t underestimate a jerk and always keep pepper spray in the back pocket.”
Something stronger than pepper spray would be Wyatt’s preference.
He lifted her elbow to study her upper arm. Angry red marks discolored her skin. There was no doubt they would bruise.
A spark of anger shot through him. Why the hell had he just let the guy leave? He should go out there and chase him down. Teach him some manners.
“We should get some ice on this. I have some at my place…”
“It’s okay.” Quinn shook her head, pulling out of his hold. She crossed her arms, clearly frustrated about what had happened.
Lifting his other hand, Wyatt trailed his finger down her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. Before he touched you.”
Her eyes softened, and she pressed her hands to his chest. He felt the heat from her skin through the material of his shirt.
“My brother taught me self-defense, so I’m pretty good at saving myself. He was a second away from being on his knees, howling in pain. But it was nice to have you here.”
Wyatt had no doubt the woman was badass when she had to be. But if he could save her from having to fight a man, any man, he would.
“Who was he?”
At Wyatt’s words, Quinn dropped her hands and took a step back. He felt the loss of her touch immediately.
“He’s my…ah…my boss.”
Wyatt frowned. Quinn lived and worked in New York. That was a long way for her boss to travel.
There was also the fact that her voice had hitched at the end. Meaning there was something that wasn’t quite true in her statement.
“What did he want?”
Quinn turned and walked behind the kitchen counter. “Don’t worry about it, Wyatt. My problems are my own. I can handle them.”
Only, he was worried. People didn’t fly across the country for nothing. They also didn’t assault people over nothing.
Wyatt wanted to push it. Hell, he wanted to sit the woman down and not let her back up until he got every little life detail.
He didn’t. Because her body language screamed that the conversation was done. Over.
But there was definitely something going on. Something to do with her work. And there was a strong possibly that something was dangerous.
For a moment, he wondered if Mason knew. But he quickly dashed that idea. If Mason knew his sister was in trouble, he would either be here to help her, or he’d have asked one of them to look out for her.
“Wyatt, stop.”
Quinn had placed her hands on her hips and was now watching him. Damn, had he made his thoughts too obvious?
“Stop what?”
“You’re trying to figure things out. Your mind is moving a thousand miles an hour, I can see it on your face and read it from your silence. There’s nothing to figure out.”
He smiled. Not because there was anything remotely good about his suspicions, but because he wanted Quinn to be at ease. “If I can’t think about you, what can I think about?”
Her body visibly relaxed at his comment. “Okay, you can think about me a little. But only about how awesome I am.”
Oh, he already spent a great deal of time doing that. “It’s hard for me not to.”
If the woman knew how often she was on his mind, she would probably be more than a little freaked out.
“Don’t worry, it’s completely normal and very common.”
Wyatt chuckled. “That’s good to hear because I was starting to worry.”
“Nothing to worry about.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he glanced at the door. “Okay, well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll leave.”
He looked back at her in time to see her eyes roll. “I’m sure.”
He’d almost made it out the door when her voice stopped him.
“And Wyatt…thanks again.”
He dipped his head. “Anytime. And I mean that, Quinn, I’m just across the hall. The door is always open for you.”
He gave her a final smile before stepping out and into his own apartment. The moment the door closed, he beelined for his laptop.
The technology-free night was no longer an option. Quinn was supposedly taking a “break” from her job at The New York Times. Wyatt was almost certain that was a lie.
Quinn wouldn’t appreciate him researching her. But she was Mason’s sister. Mason was more than a friend, he was family. No blood connection needed.
If there was something going on with Quinn, Mason would want to know.
There were questions that needed answering. Questions that he would love Quinn to answer herself once their relationship grew, but if danger lurked, then he needed to know now.
Quinn had just climbed into bed when her phone began to ring.
No! She was not going to answer that. She had a date with her laptop. She planned to fall asleep watching mindless sitcoms and drinking hot cocoa.
The whole “Darren” situation had frustrated her to no end. He had answers. Answers that he wasn’t sharing.
Quinn listened to the ringing without so much as looking at the cell.
When the room went silent, she clicked on Netflix. It had saved her overactive mind many a time, and not once had it failed to de-stress her.
She’d just clicked into a show and snuggled under the sheets when her phone rang again.
God dang it. Could this person not take a hint?
Reaching across to her nightstand, Quinn intended to switch the thing off, but stopped when she saw whose name flashed across the screen.
Mason.
Crap. If she didn’t answer, he would just keep calling. Either that or send in the whole damn police force to check that she was okay.
Reluctantly, Quinn lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, big brother. How’s Lockhart treating you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were fired?”
Quinn shot up into a sitting position at her brother’s words. “How the heck do you know I was fired?”
“Answer the question, Quinn.”
At Mason’s authoritative tone, Quinn’s spine straightened. “How about you answer mine first?”
“Wyatt told me.”
For a moment, Quinn thought she’d heard wrong. “Wyatt? As in Wyatt…”
“Who lives across the hall from you? Who was a member of my SEAL team and now runs Marble Protection with me? Yes, him.”
Holy jam on a cracker. Wyatt knew her brother.
No, not just knew—served with him, ran a business with him. Christ, the guy was basically family to Mason.
Suddenly, things began making sense. The muscular body. The intelligence.
How had she not fit those pieces together?
“You’ve talked about your team plenty of times and I’ve never heard you mention a Wyatt. And why didn’t you tell me one of your team members lived across the hall from me?”
“The team calls him Jobs, and I just didn’t think to mention it.”
He didn’t think to mention it? It seemed like pretty important information to Quinn.
“So, this whole time he’s known that I’m your sister?”
“Of course. I told him you were moving into my apartment.”
That sneaky bastard.
On one hand, she hadn’t shared much information about herself with Wyatt, either. On the other, he’d lied by omission. He’d probably known her name before the words had left her mouth.<
br />
“Quinn!”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was fired because my boss told me to drop a story and I didn’t. I kept researching it. I kept digging and asking questions. And he fired me.”
“What was the story?”
“Oh, did Wyatt not discover that part?”
Her brother sighed. “Q. Please. Tell me.”
She shook her head. “There’s really nothing to tell. It was a story about a burglary where some innocent people got killed. You don’t need to worry, I’m done looking into it.” She crossed her fingers and toes as she lied through her teeth. She couldn’t very well tell her overprotective brother that she was still researching a story that involved super-human killers.
Not only would he think she was insane, but he would probably cut his trip short, come home and lock her away until he made sure there was no danger.
She didn’t need him to do that. She was capable of protecting herself just fine. As far as she was concerned, there would always be danger in the world. And there was no way Quinn would lock herself away to stay safe.
“Are you okay?”
Quinn paused at Mason’s question. She knew what he was asking. He knew how much she loved her job. She lived and breathed it. That was just one of the reason she couldn’t drop this story. Quinn needed to know why it had cost her everything.
“I’m okay, Mason. Just figuring out my next step.”
“Wyatt told me you’re going to be working at Mrs. Potter’s Bakehouse.”
Quinn was going to kill that guy.
“I was hoping my boss would reconsider and take me back. He didn’t. And while I waited in New York, rent chewed up my minimal savings.”
If you could even call what she’d had in the bank “savings.”
“Do you need money?”
“No!” Hell no. It was bad enough she had to ask to live in his apartment rent-free. No way was she taking cash handouts, too. “Mrs. Potter was good enough to give me a job. That will keep me going.”
“Okay. What about this boss? Wyatt said he paid you a visit?” There was an edge of danger to Mason’s voice. An edge she was all too familiar with.
“Darren’s harmless. Mason, I really appreciate that you care. I love that you’re always looking out for me. But I’m okay. If I need your help, I’ll call.”
Wyatt: A steamy contemporary military romance (Project Arma Book 5) Page 4