Love like Yours Series (Box Set #1-4)

by Nicole S. Goodin

  Why is this so goddamn hard?

  I knew it was her. The idea of leaving her here, innocent and trusting, while I roamed the streets was what was causing me physical pain.

  She’d done so much for me tonight. She let me have space to wallow... she came to me when I needed her, she took control when I couldn’t... she was incredible.

  She brought me back.

  I knew I didn’t deserve a woman like Quinn.

  I should get back into bed.

  I wanted so badly to forget this whole mess and snuggle back into her side, but I couldn’t.

  Olivia’s terrified face flashed through my mind and I knew I didn’t have a choice.

  I have to go.

  ***

  I looked at Quinn over my bowl of cornflakes.

  I got fucking lucky.

  I’d gone out last night and come back with Quinn being none the wiser. I was in a much better mood too. I’d got my man last night, and I hadn’t even needed to use my fists. He’d begged me not to hurt him, like the pathetic little weasel he was, and then he took his slimy ass down to the station and handed himself over with a full confession this time.

  One look at the pure rage in my eyes had told him everything he needed to know... I wasn’t here to fuck around.

  “You look tired,” Quinn commented, looking back at me. “Did you not sleep well?”

  My stomach dropped.

  Does she know?

  “I...” I cleared my throat. “Ah, I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I came and got a drink and sat around down here for a bit.”

  She studied me closely and I could feel my heart racing.

  Jesus, Hunt. Get it together.

  “You should try warm milk next time.” She smiled as she stood to take her bowl to the sink.

  “What am I? A kitten?” I chuckled.

  She giggled and threw a tea towel at me. “Don’t forget we’ve got Stella’s party this afternoon.”

  “Like I’d forget my best girl’s birthday,” I teased her.

  Stella loved me. Even Quinn couldn’t deny it. I don’t know what it was about that little girl, but she just melted my heart. We’d hit it off right from our first meeting, and now every time I saw her, she’d hold her arms out to me for a hug.

  Quinn pretended to be mad, but I could practically see her ovaries exploding every time I was around Stella.

  “What’d you get her for a gift then, since you’re BFF’s and all?” Quinn asked smugly, strolling towards the door.

  Shit.

  “Aunty Quinn, one. BFF, zero,” she called over her shoulder as she went out of sight.

  Ah crap.

  “I was just kidding, Quinn,” I called after her. “You know you’re my best girl.”

  I got no reply.

  “Quinn?” I called again. “You’re putting my name on the card... right?”

  I heard her laugh float down the stairs.

  Is it too late to go shopping?

  ***

  I shook my head in dismay; still not quite comprehending what the hell I’d just bore witness to.

  “Swear to God, Skippy, I’ve never seen so much pink sparkly shit in my entire life.”

  Quinn just laughed. She knew Ellerslie a lot better than I did, and she was nowhere near as shocked at the girly explosion that had just occurred in Lawson and Ellerslie’s living room.

  “I don’t know how Lawson handles that shit.”

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “Oh please. He’s worse than El. That little girl has her daddy wrapped around her little finger, she might only be one year old, but she makes eyes at him, and he gives her whatever the hell she wants. I’m terrified for when she becomes a teenager.”

  I couldn’t exactly say I blamed him, I wasn’t sure I’d want to be the one to look at that angel face and say the word no.

  “Did you get much of a chance to talk to my mom?”

  I grinned. “Yeah, me and Whitney are thick as thieves.”

  She whacked at my arm but was too slow. “I’m serious,” she moaned. “Did you get to know her at all?”

  I had got to know a bit about Whitney Adams. She seemed like an incredible woman, it wasn’t hard to see how Quinn had turned out the way she had. She was grounded and sweet and had a real appreciation for life. It was obvious she loved her children and granddaughter more than life.

  “Yeah, we talked. It was nice.” I smiled at Quinn. “She seems like a pretty special lady.”

  Her face lit up. “Yeah, she’s the best.”

  “So, she raised you both on her own?”

  “With the help of my nana and pop.”

  “Where are they? Back home?”

  Her smile fell for a moment. “They both passed away a few years back.”

  Shit.

  “I’m sorry.” I reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.

  “Oh, don’t be.” She waved away my apology with her free hand. “I love talking about them, they were great people.”

  She smiled brightly at me. “They were so good to Lawson and me. I learned how to snowboard with them, and they always encouraged me to chase my dreams with my dancing.”

  She looked so vibrant and alive when she talked about them; it was blatantly obvious that she had a lot of love for her grandparents.

  “If it weren’t for them, I’m not sure I ever would have pursued either of my passions.”

  I was never going to meet either of these people, but if I could, I’d thank them. Anything that put a sparkle in Quinn’s eye was always going to be in my good books.

  33. Quinn

  Two whole weeks without a fight.

  We’re making progress.

  ***

  My eyes opened and shut drowsily as I tried to make out my surroundings.

  Harrison’s bedroom.

  I rolled over in the darkness and reached out for him.

  “Harrison?”

  The bed was empty and cold. He’d been gone for a while.

  Not again.

  He couldn’t be doing this to me again.

  “Where the fuck are you?” I murmured into the still room.

  I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I wanted to imagine him sitting in the living room, maybe because he couldn’t sleep, but I just knew better, he thought I hadn’t noticed the last time he disappeared a couple of weeks back... but I had.

  I pulled the sheet around my body and padded barefoot to the doorway.

  “Harrison?” I called down the hallway. “Are you here?”

  There was no answer.

  I knew he wasn’t here. The house was missing his presence.

  I sighed and blinked back the tears that had sprung in the corners of my eyes. “Fuck you, Harrison Hunt,” I whispered into the emptiness.

  I dressed and walked to the door. He thought he could leave me? Well fuck that, I was leaving him. I wouldn’t be here waiting, not this time.

  Let’s see how you like it.

  Nicki Minaj’s ‘Bed of Lies’ came on the radio as I drove away from his house.

  “Do you ever think of me when you lie, lie down in your bed, your bed of lies?

  Oh, the irony.

  I changed the station.

  34. Harrison

  I jogged down the street, my breath visible in front of me in the cool night.

  I knew this wasn’t the best plan I’d ever had, but it was too late to back out now, I could see the neon sign flashing up ahead. I knew he would be in there.

  I approached the door of the tattoo parlor and pressed my back against the wall for a moment to get my breath back. I’d parked about half a dozen blocks over. The last thing I needed was some asshole getting my license plate.

  I thought through my game plan. I knew I could get him alone. I called earlier for an appointment and had been told he was the only artist working tonight and he was booked up until he finished at eleven.

  These guys work some queer hours.

  This guy was only a tattooist fo
r show. His specialty was pimping out girls that were too young to know better. They all wore his mark, his brand. A small tiger tattoo was etched into the skin on each of their bodies. That’s what he was known as, ‘Tiger’, and the symbol alone was enough to instill fear into every street-hanging gangster on this side of town.

  Tiger Bronson’s gang was not something to be taken lightly. The man himself was nothing, but the connections he had were anything but.

  I knew I had to do this, and I had to do it now. Max wasn’t getting away with this, and the only person who might have the information I needed was behind this door – all three hundred pounds of him.

  I pushed open the door and the bell above it rang out, signaling my arrival.

  “We’re closed,” his voice hollered from behind the curtain that led out back.

  “No worries. I’ll come back,” I called out to him. I opened the door again, the bell jingled, and I shut it, letting him think I’d left. I walked silently to the corner of the room and sank down in a chair to wait for him.

  Fifteen minutes later a scantily clad young girl emerged from the back, a tiger freshly tattooed on her shoulder.

  Motherfucker.

  One day soon I was going to have to find a way to shut this bastard down for good.

  If she was surprised to see me, she didn’t look it. She looked like a zombie, pumped full of drugs, no doubt.

  Motherfucker.

  She left through the door I came in and I braced myself. He wouldn’t be long now.

  The light turned off out back and I saw the curtain move. The room was only dimly lit now from the lampposts out on the street, suited me, the less he saw of me, the better.

  His huge body moved into the room.

  “I’m going to ask you a question, Tiger, and I’m expecting you to fucking answer it,” I said in a menacing tone.

  He froze. “Who the hell are you?” he replied gruffly. I could see his silhouette turning, looking side to side for me.

  “I’m asking the questions,” I replied with my voice full of venom.

  He laughed, as if I was nothing more than a joke to him.

  We’ll see who’s laughing soon.

  “I wouldn’t go getting too cocky, Tiger. Your keepers left a long time ago.”

  His laughter died.

  Yeah... I’ve done my research.

  “What do you want?” he demanded.

  “Max Barceló,” I stated. “I want to know where to find him.”

  He snorted. “Ain’t that just the question of the century. No one knows where old Maxie disappeared to.”

  “Don’t bullshit me,” I warned.

  “What you gonna do about it?”

  I was on my feet and in front of him faster than he probably would have thought possible, slamming his body back into the counter.

  “You don’t want to find out,” I threatened.

  He sucked in a ragged breath and struggled against my hold. He was huge, but not in a way that was going to be of any use to him.

  I could almost make out his features in the dim light. He was definitely going to crack and we both knew it.

  I put more pressure on this throat.

  “Mill Street,” he choked out.

  Too easy.

  I adjusted my hold so he could give me more information.

  “Big warehouse.”

  I gave him slightly more room to breathe before getting up in his face and sneering at him.

  “You speak a word about this and you’ll regret it.”

  He nodded, and I pushed him back, letting him go.

  The bastard swung around and punched me, right in the jaw. It was a pathetic hit. The guy had probably never had to do his dirty work himself, but it would still leave a mark.

  “Fucker,” I snarled. Now I was going to have to lie to Quinn... again.

  I shoved him back hard and he tumbled onto his ass. “I fucking mean it. You don’t want me coming back,” I growled as I turned my back on him and stalked out the front door.

  I had my first lead. Now I just needed to decide what I was going to do with it.

  ***

  “Shit!” I slammed the door back on its hinges.

  She was gone.

  Dread had instantly filled me when I’d arrived home and her car was missing. I’d run through the house calling her name, but it only confirmed what I already knew; she was gone.

  She must have woken to an empty bed and thought the worst. Not that it wasn’t justified – I was the worst.

  Find her, Hunt.

  Throwing myself back into my truck I searched for her everywhere I could think of; Logan’s, Lawson and El’s... even the office. Her car was nowhere to be seen.

  Where the fuck are you, Skippy?

  I needed to calm down and think. If I knew Quinn, and I did, she’d be fuming by now, and looking to fuck me off...

  She’ll be out... drinking?

  She wasn’t stupid, or careless... she’d be keeping herself in a safe environment.

  The club.

  I text the only person there I could count on to help me with Quinn, my cousin Angelo.

  “Is she there?” I typed out frantically.

  The ten minutes it took him to reply was pure agony.

  “Yeah she’s here. You’re fucking this up, man.”

  I threw my phone onto the passenger seat of my truck.

  “Fuck,” I growled to no one but myself.

  I was most undoubtedly fucking this up.

  35. Quinn

  “Don’t even think about it, Quinn.”

  I hated the goosebumps that stood up on my arms and neck at the sound of his voice.

  Dammit... who the hell ratted me out?

  I sat the full shot glass back down on the bar and gave my drinking buddy an apologetic glance.

  “Think about what, Harrison?” I asked as I spun around to face him, getting to my feet.

  The side of his face was red and slightly swollen.

  What the hell happened to him now?

  “You... him... this.” He waved his hand at the scene in front of him.

  “You don’t own me.” My chin lifted defiantly.

  He crossed his arms across his chest. “Like fuck I don’t,” he stated arrogantly.

  “You’re so cocky, you stupid—”

  He interrupted me with a laugh. “Yeah, I know. I’m stupid, I’m a jerk, an asshole, a prick... I’m whatever you wanna throw at me, Skippy.”

  He took a step towards me as he spoke, and I took one back, leaving me pressed directly against the bar. He stepped closer again, right into my personal space, so he was almost touching me.

  I inhaled his scent involuntarily and sighed. I was so fucked. He smelled like home.

  He leaned into my ear and I could feel his breath on my skin. “But make no mistake... you are mine. You were mine the moment I opened my eyes and looked into yours.”

  I opened my mouth to argue but he clamped his hand firmly over my lips.

  “Mmet your mand offa my mouf.”

  His eyes scorched into mine, darker than I’d ever seen them.

  “You are mine now. Like it or not. And even if you leave me... you’ll still be mine.” He growled possessively.

  He pointed at the guy I’d been taking shots with for the last half hour. “You can go home with this guy if that’s what you want.”

  He dropped his hand from my mouth and turned to the man whose name I couldn’t even remember. “But just know, the entire time you’re fucking her, she’ll be thinking about me.”

  I felt bad for getting the guy involved; he held his hands up in surrender, his face a mask of shock.

  Poor man.

  I didn’t know whether to smack him for being such a crass, arrogant prick, or to drag him out back and throw myself at him for the sexy possessiveness he was displaying.

  His little scene was embarrassing, but the fact that he wanted me badly enough to come all the way down here and fight for me gave him the edge.<
br />
  I grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the bar.

  “Where are we going?” He barked at me, once we were halfway across the room.

  “Follow me,” I yelled over my shoulder.

  Almost at the exit.

  “Quinn.” He pulled hard on my arm, jarring me back. “Where are we going?”

  “Just shut up and follow me,” I demanded.

  He stood still, unwilling to move, waiting for his answer.

  “You are so stubborn,” I grumbled.

  He didn’t budge an inch.

  I glanced around the crowd of people and smirked. “Fine then.” I raised my voice, the alcohol flowing through my system giving me courage. “We’re going to the closest private location I can find, so that I can screw your brains out. How does that work for you?”

  He gave me his crooked smile, the one that touches his eyes, and dragged me out of the club, the bystanders whooping and cheering at us.

  “You sure know how to make a scene, woman,” he growled as he towed me through the cool night air to his truck.

  36. Harrison

  “So now that’s out of my system, are you gonna tell me why the hell your face looks like that? Or where the fuck you disappeared to... again?” she hissed, the moment she got her breath back.

  I groaned. “I’ve told you. I like to run at night.”

  I felt like the biggest bastard in the universe for lying to her like this, but I had a score to settle and people to protect. I couldn’t give it up now.

  She stared into my eyes and I nearly caved at the hurt I saw staring back at me.

  “Right.” She rolled over, her naked back towards me. “Running.”

  “I fell,” I insisted.

  “You’re a bullshit liar, Harrison.” She slid from the bed and stood in front of me in all her naked glory, her hands on her hips.

  The sight of her had me hard again, even though the vibe I was getting from her was anything but inviting.

  “I’m not lying.”

  It even sounded like bullshit to me.

  She sees right through it.

  She threw her hands up, infuriated with my lies, and started looking for her clothes.

  “Quinn, please,” I begged. “Just come back to bed.”

  She pulled my shirt over her head and stared down at me. “I’m too drunk to drive... hell; I don’t even have my car,” she fumed. “So I’ll go to the spare room. I can’t even look at you right now.”