by Selena Scott
Her breath stopped.
“I know I don’t deserve to tell you this,” he continued in a hushed tone. “And it would probably make everything simpler if I just kept it to myself. But I can’t face—“my probable death, never seeing you again, take your pick“—what’s next without telling you. At least once. You’re so unbelievably special. Smart, hilarious, sweet. Everything I could ever… I wish everything were different. I wish I were different. It doesn’t matter. I just need you to know that I care about you. So much.”
She still wasn’t breathing. He leaned toward her but froze in place when he felt her forehead land on his shoulder. She rocked her head back and forth a little, and he felt her hair brush against his arm. Her hand clamped down on his and she shuddered.
She sniffed and sniffed again.
“Are you crying?” he asked gently.
“No.”
He chuckled. “Yes, you are.”
She lifted her face from his arm and he couldn’t help but reach for her face with his free hand. His palm landed at her ear and he slid his hand around to her cheek. He swept a tear away with his thumb and leaned his head down. For a long moment, he just breathed her air.
His heart stomped out a painful rhythm in his chest. Their faces were so close he could feel her heat. It would be so easy to ford the distance between them. His fingers were twined in her hair, her softness pressed against him. He heard her lips come open.
“Quill,” she whispered.
And that was it. That was absolutely as much as he could possibly take without kissing her. He was just a man and this woman whom he’d wanted for so long was warm and pressing her cheek into his hand.
His nose brushed hers, her face tipped up, and the lights flicked back on.
Feeling like someone had just ripped the sheets off a warm, cozy bed where he’d been snoozing comfortably, Quill blinked into Dawn’s eyes, his hand still on her cheek and their noses still touching.
He was the closest he’d ever been to her beautiful brown eyes and what he saw there just wrecked him.
Because she was looking at him with trust.
And this was why he could only tell her how he felt in the dark. He could see all over her face everything he didn’t deserve.
He dropped his hand and pushed back from her, standing up and rolling his shoulders back. He could feel her looking at him.
Turning, he offered her his hand to help her stand, but he avoided eye contact. Without another word, he strode directly over to the group of people who were congregating down by the screen, chatting about the blackout, the storm.
He didn’t look back to see if she would follow.
***
Now she was just pissed off.
Well, horny and pissed off.
She could not believe that he hadn’t kissed her! She also kind of couldn’t believe that she’d wanted him to kiss her. Things were changing very quickly. Last week she’d just had a regular old crush on the guy. Two mornings ago she’d found out he was the scum of the earth. And now today she kind of wanted to make out with him.
She scowled down at the back of his head as he sat down next to Karen and started up a conversation. Obviously he was back to the whole avoiding her thing.
She wished, very badly, that she still had her phone. She would have loved to have been able to call Ida or Wren and get some perspective on all this. Because maybe the fact that she wanted to kiss his brains out right now had nothing to do with the crush she used to have on him. Maybe it had a lot more to do with the fact that in two days, her life was going to look very, very different and she was likely never going to kiss someone again.
She didn’t know exactly what the Director would want her for. But she didn’t exactly think she was staring down the barrel of a swinging single life.
Medical experiments didn’t scream romance.
Would it be so bad to have one last fling before she banished herself to a lifetime of being a guinea pig?
Yes, things with Quill were complicated. But would anyone really blame her for wanting to have a little human affection before everything went off the rails for her life? And it wasn’t exactly like she had a huge crop of men to choose from. She had Quill and a bunch of old married men scattered around the theater.
Well, there was Harris too. Who was single. But the idea of hooking up with Harris was kind of like when you’re so unbelievably thirsty and you get back to your car to find two inches of sun-warmed water in the bottle in the cupholder. It’ll do the trick, but it’s not exactly appealing.
Whereas Quill was a little more like an ice-cold, glass bottle of Coke sweating with condensation, the flavor smooth and sharp and unforgiving and perfect.
Yikes. She was giving herself a girl boner and it was not a good idea, seeing as how there was pretty much nothing she could do about it.
Dawn flopped back onto her makeshift floor bed in frustration. This whole thing was torture. She wished that she could snap her fingers and be standing there in front of the Director, pleading her case. Waiting for it was giving her gray hairs.
She hoped they could travel tomorrow. Her mind wandered as she thought about the car parked a block away in the parking garage. She thought about the motel room they’d vacated so unceremoniously. She thought about the miles and miles they’d passed to get here and how many more they had to go.
She drifted away and didn’t wake up until she felt a blanket being lowered over top of her. She rolled and saw Quill leaning over her in the dim light. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “It’s late.”
Her eyes fell shut and she did just that. A while later, she woke up again to a crack of thunder and was surprised to see that Quill had moved his floor bed over next to hers. He’d lain down between her and the rest of the room. A one-man barrier from the world.
She wanted to think about it more, but her eyes were so heavy. When she woke up again, his blankets were six feet away once more, back where they’d started, and a cup of steaming coffee sat on the floor next to her head.
Dawn stretched and sat up and frowned. He didn’t make sense. But maybe it was time to stop trying to figure him out.
***
The rain had stopped around ten p.m. that night, but they weren’t able to drive out of there until four p.m. the next day. The flood waters had mostly receded, but the evidence of the storm was everywhere. Overturned trash cans lay on their sides, debris littered the street, everything had a muddy, swept look from about eighteen inches down. It was disorienting to drive out of the small town and get back on the highway where everything looked disconcertingly normal. The cars weren’t even in a slowdown anymore.
Quill glanced at Dawn in the passenger’s seat and frowned when he saw her scrub a tear away from her cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just kind of sad to be saying goodbye to Karen.”
Quill barked out a laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Karen was a nice lady!”
“And you are a big old softie.”
“So?” she asked accusingly, her arms crossed over her chest.
Quill just shook his head in response. So, it’s freaking cute. So, it makes me want to snuggle into you and not bother coming up for air. So, I think you’re the sweetest woman to ever walk the planet.
He didn’t say any of this, of course. But he finally gave himself free rein to think it. He’d lost some barriers last night in the blackout. And not all of them had erected themselves again when the lights came back on.
Quill was painfully aware of his feelings for Dawn in a new and particularly acute way. His feelings would not be ignored anymore. So, he just had to find a way to keep them trapped inside.
They drove quietly for a few hours before it was time to stop for dinner. Even though they hadn’t done much traveling, they were both surprisingly tired and opted to stop at a diner instead of getting drive-through.
It was a classic American joint, all the way down to
the spinning, upholstered stools at the counter and the seen-it-all waitress with tired eyes and a pen stuck for safekeeping in her tight bun.
They both ate surprisingly good burgers and split a basket of fries. On a whim, Quill ordered a slice of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream melting on top. When the waitress delivered it, he slid it across the table to Dawn. And just like he’d hoped it would, the gesture made her smile.
They split the pie and sat companionably in the booth, looking out at the darkening sky, watching the trucks pass on the highway.
“So,” Dawn said, “are we going to look for another hotel tonight?”
Quill nodded. It didn’t make sense for them to drive through the night when they were both so tired. Besides, they hadn’t had to pay for anywhere to stay last night, an unexpected perk to the storm, so they were ahead in the budget. “Though it’ll feel strange to stay someplace without Ted as the manager.”
Dawn smiled again. “I know. You think he’s still wearing that clear poncho?”
“Considering he didn’t take it off for forty-eight hours straight, I can’t really picture him wearing anything else.”
They both laughed but the smile on Dawn’s face fell off as the door to the diner blew open on a gust of wind.
“What is it?” Quill asked, studying her face.
“Nothing. I just thought I caught the scent of…”
He leaned forward. “Of what?”
Her eyes cut to his. “Of the medicine that they used to tranquilize me.”
His stomach curdled. Not only because if she was smelling that medicine here, that wasn’t a good sign. But also because he was temporarily winded by the reminder of the attack he’d helped orchestrate against her. Guilt had his food turning sour in his gut.
“We should get out of here.”
“Yeah.” She rose and he followed her as soon as he’d tossed cash on the table. They stepped out into the parking lot side by side and immediately Dawn stiffened.
“Get to the car,” she hissed, whirling back around, a wild look in her eye.
She took off at a dead run and he followed suit. “What is it?” he asked for the second time in a minute.
“I can smell the tranquilizer. And I can also smell that guy, Harris. He’s here somewhere.”
“He followed us—FUCK!” Quill shouted as they approached the car. They’d parked in the corner of the lot, only five feet away from the alley at the side of the diner, and Quill crumpled to the ground as something sharp and shiny impacted his thigh.
Quill immediately tore the dart out of his leg and threw it against the outer wall of the diner so hard that its glass canister exploded into a thousand pieces. His vision quavered and he wasn’t sure if it was from the toxin in his blood stream or if it was the pure, unadulterated rage he was experiencing.
He was up and two steps into the alley when he caught sight of Harris standing there, a cell phone raised to his cheek, the tranq gun still pointed at Quill.
“Yeah. I got him. Just now. Even if he runs, the tracker is still active. But there’s a girl here too, his girlfriend or something. What do you want me to—”
Quill lunged at Harris and shoved him down, smashing the cell phone in the process. The last thing Quill and Dawn needed right now was for the Director to learn who Quill was traveling with. If he found out, it would likely imply that Quill was running for his life and taking Dawn with him. Dawn wouldn’t stand a chance at escape then. Quill’s whole plan would be shot to shit.
His brain was moving too fast and too slow at the same time. He tried to stand, but his legs were filled with sand. His hands planted against the ground, but seemed to take root. He couldn’t push himself up. His vision blurred.
“Look out!” he heard Dawn shout and then there was a rush of wind past him, knocking him to the ground. Quill lifted his head to see a gorgeous russet wolf standing over him, baring her teeth and growling, snapping her jaws at Harris, who was trying his best to scramble away from the two of them.
“Dawn,” Quill called, fighting like hell to remain conscious. “Tracker. In the brand. On. My. Hip.”
And then he collapsed in an enervated heap as the world went black.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“The first second I see him, the very first second, I’m going to literally rip his head from his shoulders.”
“Orion!” Ida gasped. She’d never heard her boyfriend’s brother speak in such violent terms. He was normally such a sweetie. Not that he didn’t have the right to want to rip heads from shoulders right now, but still, it was kind of a shocking visual.
“Not if I see him first,” growled Diana. “I’m not going to waste time on his head. I’m going straight for the groin.”
“Diana!” Ida squeaked. This was seriously getting a little out of hand. When she’d gotten in the car and headed to Salt Lake City with the rest of the group, she’d thought this was going to be a pretty simple search and rescue for Dawn. It had turned out to be anything but that.
Phoenix laced a strong arm around Ida’s waist and pulled her close, comforting her. But when she tipped back to look at her boyfriend’s face, it was murder that she plainly read there.
She was just as furious with and betrayed by Quill as the rest of them—he’d been her true friend, or so she’d thought—but that didn’t mean she wanted to physically dismember him. That was… not her style.
“I should’ve stopped them,” Sasha repeated for the fortieth time in a voice that was only getting hollower and hollower.
Ida couldn’t help but reach out and pat the large, blond man’s hand. He was so friendly-looking and sweet, it was plain to see that he cared deeply for Dawn. Ida would never forget the look on his face when they’d arrived at his door, when they’d all pieced together who exactly had been traveling with Dawn, when they’d filled Sasha in on exactly who Quill was. It was like they were slowly inserting a knife into his heart, killing him by inches.
“I knew something was fishy, but I didn’t want to push. Didn’t want her to think I didn’t trust her to run her own life,” Sasha continued, his forehead in his palm, his eyes on the floor, talking to himself more than any of the others in the room.
“Well, that makes you a better man than me,” Orion said. “Because I have no problem with running her life if it keeps her away from scumbags like Quill.”
“I still can’t believe that traitors like him even exist,” spit Wren, Ida’s best friend and raven shifter. She’d been at the house with them when the brothers had gotten Dawn’s call that she’d come to Salt Lake City to be with Sasha. And she’d been there when they’d decided that Salt Lake City was just a few too many miles away than they were comfortable with. She might not have come along on the road trip if it hadn’t been for Jesse, who’d shown up on their doorstep in his roomy SUV, just swinging by to check on them after the crazy events of the previous few days. None of them knew him very well, but he’d been quick to offer a ride and now, there he was, leaning against Sasha’s kitchen counter, silent, listening, blending in with the shadows.
“What kind of shifter works for government programs that wanna turn us into stuffed heads on a wall?! Or whatever they do,” Wren finished, tossing her hands in the air and pacing around the kitchen like a caged animal.
If Ida had to guess, Wren was also firmly in favor of dismemberment.
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Jesse said, the first thing he’d said in hours. “You said he was in one of the internment camps for a few years? Well, that answers your question right there. It screwed the hell out of him. The camps will do that to you. Change your brain. Change your soul. Trust me.”
He leaned back as soon as he was done talking and looked like he very much wished to blend in with the backsplash.
“What are we talking about here?” Wren asked. “Are we saying that Quill is some kind of psycho?”
“No.” Diana shook her head immediately. “We have a whole evaluation process that takes place in order for anyone to get
hired at the center as a mentor. If he had major psychological issues, he never would have been hired.”
“He didn’t seem crazy to me either,” Sasha said. “If he had, I never would have let Dawn go with him. Or at least, I’d have gone along with them. He just seemed, I don’t know, really sad to me. Mixed up and sad.” Sasha grimaced. “And I hesitate to even put this on the table, but I, uh, kinda think he’s in love with her.”
“I think so too!” Ida said in a rush, freaking grateful that she finally had someone else who was willing to see her side of things.
“Oh my god,” Phoenix burst out, pacing around the room just like Wren was. “I love you, baby,” he said to Ida, “but if I have to listen to this theory one more time…”
“Look, I know it seems crazy, because of all the, you know, facts,” Ida pulled a face. “But is there any chance that she isn’t in danger with him? Is there any chance at all that he’s actually protecting her?”
“Ida, honey, I say this with all the love in my heart,” Wren said, her hands on her hips. “But who cares how Quill feels? The question is whether or not she’d be safer away from him than with him. And I for one think she’d be a hell of a lot safer in Portland than she is in the wind with a known traitor.”
Ida had a very long fuse. She was sweet and lovable and generally killed ‘em with kindness. But she’d had it up to her eyeballs with being told that her assessment of the situation didn’t matter. Because she thought there was one very important element here that they were all willingly ignoring.
“You know what? I know that none of you want to hear this,” Ida said with a stomp of her foot. “But I am positive there is more to this story than any of you think there is. In fact, I’m pretty freaking sure that not only does he love her… I think she loves him back.”
The only thing that broke the silence was the one more foot stomp that Ida did before she leaned back and crossed her arms.
“That,” Sasha said in a tired, defeated voice, “is the distinct impression that I also got.”