by L B Wyatt
She swallowed back emotions that threatened to surface and shook her head. She stood up and walked over to her dresser, opening the top drawer. She pushed aside her underwear and socks and pulled a small wooden jewelry box from the very back. She turned on the small light sitting on the chest of drawers and gently opened the lid. Inside she kept only two items: a dog tag and an old gum wrapper. If someone were to see what she kept housed in that small box, they would surely laugh, but those two things were all she had left of her father and because of that, they were her most prized possessions.
She took the tag out and let her hands trace over the cool metal, feeling the engraved letters and numbers. William V. Covey. She pressed the name between her forefinger and thumb and sighed. She wasn’t sure why it meant so much to her. It was just a means of identification with his social and blood type stamped beneath his name. It couldn’t come close to representing the man he really was. But it had belonged to him, had hung around his neck while he served in the Navy. It had probably been hidden away in his bunk during active duty on the sea. There was no telling where all her father had taken the tag. But he thought to leave it to her and her alone. Not his wife or his eldest daughter, but Veronica. She’d never admit it out loud, but the sentiment made her feel special.
She gently placed the chain back in the box and turned to the gum wrapper. It was folded neatly in the shape of a boat. A fascinating origami trick her father had done for her for years during her youth. She carefully lifted the paper to the tip of her nose, but the peppermint scent had long ago faded. Her heart lurched again at another recollection. He had smoked for years and when he’d come in from outside he’d always chew gum to hide the scent of his habit from his wife. Her mother hated the smell of smoke, but Veronica cherished it. It was just another piece of him she kept stored away in the recesses of her mind. He would hand her the tiny boat with a wink as he passed her by in the hallway. Her token for keeping his bad habit a secret.
She hadn’t kept any of the folded boats when she’d been younger, but this one was different and she hadn’t been able to part with it. She had found the tiny design on the window sill of her apartment her first year of college—two years after her father “died” in a boating accident. They had never found his body and she’d often wondered when she was younger if he was truly dead. It ate at her everyday of her life. She had longed to know the truth, but her mother had disconnected from reality and become someone else entirely after Veronica’s father disappeared. And then her sister—with no warning signs or reasons why—had committed suicide. As if her mother wasn’t crazy enough after Victor disappeared, having to bury a daughter had been the final straw which completely erased any sanity Allison Covey had left.
Veronica had no one to mourn her losses with. No one to help her deal with finding her sister’s body in a bloody bathtub. No one to help her figure out the mystery shrouding all the unfortunate events that seemed to happen one right after another until Veronica’s life had been turned upside down and left in shambles.
And then one day, completely unexpectedly, she found this little morsel of hope sitting on the window ledge and her heart nearly exploded with anticipation. She had flung the window open and looked out over the grounds. She had been living on the second floor of a poorly maintained government building at the time and she remembered a brick pulling loose as she leaned over the ledge, looking out in anticipation. But she hadn’t seen him anywhere.
She had taken off down the hall and out the door, rushing through the grounds with her eyes searching every face and corner. She never found him, but there on the ground beneath a towering oak tree beside the complex lay the remains of a smoldering half-smoked cigarette.
Her life hadn’t been the same since that day. Something had ignited in her. She changed her major to criminal justice the very next day and vowed she wouldn’t stop until she found out why her father felt like he needed to fake his own death. She knew in her heart he loved her and her sister and he would never put them both through so much hell for nothing. He had to have had a good reason.
Veronica sucked in a deep breath and tried to shake off the effects of memory lane. Very seldom did she allow herself to travel this far down it. It wasn’t like her. She didn’t dwell on things or get sentimental. She was just having a weak moment, but it would pass. She snapped the lid to the treasure box back a little more briskly than she intended at first and shoved it back into the corner of her drawer, covering it with a veil of underwear.
She decided to get her mind off it all and go for a run. She dressed in black running pants and a dark purple tank. She braided her hair securely and grabbed her pepper spray and her phone. She drove out to the park where she usually liked to jog. The sidewalks weren’t her favorite place to exercise. She preferred the seclusion of the woods and the peace it offered. There were no cars buzzing by and she never had to worry about meeting anyone on the trails, especially at this time of the day. The sun wasn’t even close to coming up. The sounds of the night greeted her when she stepped out of her car and locked it behind her. She was going to put her ear buds in a listen to some motivating music, but the crickets and the whippoorwill were a better soundtrack anyway.
She tossed her phone back into the console and after some warm-up stretches, she was off. After about a mile, she knew this was exactly what she had needed. The burn in her legs replaced the burning in her gut for a past she couldn’t get back. She pushed herself further, running longer and harder than she had in a while. She slowed down as she ascended a steep incline and forced herself to keep going even though her body protested with every step.
She was thankful when she reached the top for more than one reason. The sunrise was breathtaking and she paused, panting beside a pine tree to admire the deep purple and pinks on the horizon.
She stood there long enough for her breathing to regulate and for her heart rate to drop back down to a reasonable number. When she wasn’t distracted by her own ragged breath, her ears detected something from behind her. She turned her head slightly, but when she was angled to listen better, the noise stopped and she was left alone with only the sounds of the woods waking up. Deciding she was probably paranoid, crazy, or both, Veronica headed down the side of the path that would eventually circle back and take her to where she started.
She rounded a bend on the trail right next to a large white oak tree and ran right into what felt like a brick wall. She let out a startled cry, nearly falling back. She felt two large hands grab at her shoulders in a blur to keep her from tumbling and slam her into the unforgiving bark of the towering oak. She lifted her pepper spray, but her attacker quickly grabbed her wrist and applied pressure near the base of her thumb causing excruciating pain to radiate up her arm. Her fingers instantly went numb and she lost her grip on her weapon. Instinctively, she reared her leg back only to have this massive form of a person block that move as well. She let out a disgruntled noise as her attacker managed to pin her against the tree with the weight of his body, placing one hand around her throat. His fingers were so long they nearly touched at the base of her neck.
“You’re rusty as hell, Veronica.”
Quinn’s raspy voice caused a ripple of relief and a surge of anger to ignite through her all at once. She struggled to suck in a breath through the grip he had on her airway. There was no reason for him to actually choke her except that he simply wanted to prove he could. She was sick with the ease in which he overpowered her. He had her lifted from the ground so that her feet were barely touching and her back ached in protest against the rough texture of the bark.
“Let me go,” she ordered, her one free hand going to cover his.
“Say please,” he ordered with a grin.
She waited with a venomous stare until his grip slacked a little around her throat and then she reared back and head butted the center of his face.
He let out yelp of surprise and released her, both his hands going to cradle his bloody nose. With rage and adrenaline f
rom his attack fueling her, she took advantage of his moment of weakness and drove her knee deep into his groin, causing him to double over, giving her the opportunity to plant her elbow into the tender flesh between his shoulders just below his neck. He hit his knees and, unable to stop herself, she forced her foot back and kicked him in the side, causing him to topple over in the dirt.
Veronica had to tell herself not to spray him as she looked for her canister of pepper spray in the rotten vegetation at the base of the tree. But man did she want to. She figured she had gotten her point across enough that the spray probably wasn’t necessary, just satisfying.
Part of her wanted to ask why he was stalking her in the woods, while another part of her just didn’t care. She finally found her weapon, but didn’t have the chance to use it before she felt him rush her from the side. The two of them went tumbling down what was left of the hill with Veronica feeling the heaviness of his body each time they rolled. When they stopped, he had gained the advantage and now had her pinned to the earth. He had managed to get both her hands above her head with just one of his.
She was staring up into his wild eyes, but he didn’t look as mad as he should have. There was fire behind that dark gaze, but it wasn’t exactly rage.
“I’ve missed this,” he said gruffly.
She almost laughed at the insanity of his statement. While it was true they had never been a conventional couple, this took it to a whole new level. There had been times he would test her to make sure she was on her game and she had to admit, she had liked it. She loved the challenges he used to offer. But what they shared was never healthy and she had done surprisingly well these past few years without him.
“What do you want, Murphy?” she demanded, her body pressing deeper into his with every uneven breath she took. That tumble down the ridge had really winded her and she wouldn’t be surprised if she was covered in scratches and bruises.
She felt him lower his arm, raking his hand down her body until his fingers folded over the hollow dip of her pelvic bone. She bucked against him, unsure what he was doing at first. She felt his thumb slide just beneath the elastic band of her jogging pants and she shivered as he traced over the dark ink of her tattoo with the pad of his finger.
“She had the same tattoo as you,” he informed, continuing to rub the tender flesh with intensity.
“Lots of people have compass tattoos, Murphy.” She bucked against him again, mainly trying to get him to stop circling the mark on her hip. He pushed his weight down on her harder and lowered his face to hers so their noses were almost touching.
“Did you know her?” he questioned.
Veronica held her own neutral expression. “I don’t even know her name,” she replied, her breath hitting his face and the heat bouncing back on her cheek.
Quinn stared at her long enough she was growing more and more uncomfortable. She felt like she was suffocating with the full weight of his massive body crushing her into the hard ground. She was starting to feel the pressure from the twigs and rocks beneath her as well as the pressure from something else against her thigh. She could feel his arousal through those dark jeans and it just made her madder. She scowled up at him under her thick lashes and worked her jaw in anger.
“Get off me,” she ordered and she meant it. There was a time when he was all she could think about with his dark hair and proudly displayed ink down those strong muscular arms, but Quinn lacked the one thing Veronica had grown to realize was most important to her in a man: integrity. Quinn Murphy didn’t have a lick of it. Not when it came to his morals at least. She had witnessed his underhandedness and although she hadn’t known it then, she now understood that’s when she stopped having any real emotions for him. With the exception of an unwanted surge of lust here and there in a moment of weakness, Veronica held only contempt toward this man.
Even if he was actually trying to protect her right now in his own warped way.
Even if he was only worried that she was going to end up dead like the girl on the street two nights ago. The girl with the same exact tattoo as Veronica had had since she was twenty-two.
Seeing the intensity in her eyes, Quinn slowly lifted himself off her, pulling her to her feet as if she were weightless. He plucked a few leaves from her hair and she could only imagine what her perfectly manicured braid looked like now. She was covered in dirt and filth and disgusted with herself for letting her guard down.
“Why don’t we go back to my place and take a shower?” he suggested.
She didn’t bother to even respond. She ducked by him and started down the rest of the path toward her car.
“You know, there was a time you wouldn’t have dreamed of turning me down,” he reminded her.
When she heard his words, she knew he wasn’t following her. She glanced over her shoulder to see him standing there, looking after her. “I’ve grown up a lot since then, Murphy,” she said quietly, but effectively. “Next time you want to ask me any questions, I suggest you take me to the station instead of stalking me in the woods.”
She heard him laugh softly before saying, “This way was a lot more fun.”
She shook her head and let out a deep sigh. She took off jogging to save herself some time and humiliation. She wasn’t sure what she would have to do to really get it through to him. She was over it. She chewed on her bottom lip as Logan Hook’s eyes flashed through her mind. She knew the reason she was so attracted to another woman’s husband. Logan had more integrity in his pinkie toe than Quinn had in his entire body. She wanted honor in a man and she wasn’t going to settle for anything less. Quinn was a liar, a thief and a cheat. He had been since she’d known him and he wasn’t going to change because he liked things exactly the way they were. Veronica wouldn’t expect him to be different because of her standards either. She had learned a long time ago that a tiger never changed its stripes. And Quinn Murphy was one hell of a tiger.
Chapter Five
After three tries with no answer and two knocks on her apartment door with the same results, Veronica ended up going old school to try and talk to Amelia’s friend Poppy. Having lost her resources, Veronica couldn’t just look up her finances and where this girl worked, so here she sat down the street in her car parked against the curb with a perfect side view of the townhouse apartment building.
After her run in (literally) with Quinn, Veronica had returned home to shower and change. Her arms still stung from the scrapes and scratches all over her skin. They had settled into an angry red hue for the time being, so she decided to go completely comfortable and wear a long-sleeve shirt made of thin material and yoga pants. Instead of donning her hair in its usual braid, she opted for piling her thick mane in a messy bun on top of her head. It usually gave her a migraine if she kept it up that way for long, but she needed to look this way so Poppy didn’t feel threatened when Veronica approached her.
She pulled her sunshades off when the sun slipped behind a train of big, puffy clouds and sipped on her bottle of water. She was growing anxious having been on this stakeout for nearly three hours now. Just when she was starting to think about leaving, Veronica saw the door to the townhouse open and a young woman with short brown hair bounced out of the house, turning back on the steps to lock the door.
Veronica wasn’t that surprised when she glanced at the clock to see the girl wasn’t leaving her house until after lunch. She also wasn’t surprised to find Poppy wearing similar clothes to Veronica’s with an oversized cell phone in one hand and her car keys in the other. She fished in her giant Michael Kors bag and produced a pair of sunglasses that were way too large for her small face and got behind the wheel of a muted blue Prius hybrid.
Veronica rolled her eyes and cranked her own engine, thinking how unoriginal this girl was. No doubt, Amelia had probably been just as shallow and narcissistic—her Facebook page and profile backed that theory—it still irked Veronica at the turn in generations. She had barely missed the electronic boom and cell-phone craze teenagers now experi
enced, but she was thankful for it. Thankful for a father who taught her how to sail the ocean and tie knots and think for herself. She still hated her damn phone as she cast a hateful glare at it in the passenger’s seat.
She pushed away her heavily opinionated thoughts and replaced her aviators before pulling out behind the Prius. She followed a few cars back until she saw Poppy stopping at a Starbucks. Veronica laughed cynically to herself, thinking how the lack of originality just wouldn’t stop with this girl and was currently shaking her head when the sound of her cell phone ringing caused her to look over.
Blocked number.
Veronica’s bemused expression dropped quickly as she silenced the device. After holding it in her hands for another long moment, she just powered it off completely. She threw it back down and turned her eyes back to her target, watching as Poppy made her way into the shop. And there Veronica was again, waiting aimlessly for this millennial to get an overpriced frappy-crappy-what-the-hell-ever it was called. She tapped impatiently on the steering wheel, considering the outcome if she just walked on in and tried to talk to the girl in the coffeehouse.
No, she decided quickly. Too easy of an outlet. Poppy could just take off if she was uncomfortable and she might not open up about Amelia in such a public place. Veronica closed her eyes, gathering in a deep breath, but in reality she was conjuring up every ounce of patience she had and desperately holding onto it. Her eyes scanned the parking lot for signs of anything suspicious. She didn’t think the girl was being followed, or herself for that matter, but it was a habit to always be on the lookout. And after Quinn’s little show in the woods, she needed to keep her mind sharp.