Ricochet: Friendly Fire
Page 10
“I can’t. I have to meet my lawyer today.”
Rick frowned. “I forgot. I could come with you and we could get breakfast afterwards.”
“No!”
Rick’s eyebrows shot up at her outburst.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that this is something I want to do on my own, for myself. You know?”
Quinn could tell that Rick didn’t like her answer, but he also didn’t insist that she let him tag along. “Okay. Can I come by later?” He lifted a hand to trace his thumb across her jawline.
Nodding, Quinn replied, “I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“Alright.” Rick cupped the end of her chin, tilting it up so he could kiss her again.
This time, Quinn melted into his touch. She would ask Rick or maybe Mara about the bullet wound later. Right now, every emotion she had for this man was racing through her veins, overwhelming enough to help her forget her concern. Rick’s tongue plunged into her mouth, parting her lips to gain access, giving her a long, sensual kiss.
When they finally separated and Rick dropped his hands and emptiness flooded Quinn’s heart. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to strip naked, dive back into bed, and lose herself in Rick’s embrace all day. Lawyers, her divorce, and bullet wounds could wait until another time.
Sighing, Quinn knew she had to get this over with so she could cut Travis out of her life for good. She bent down to put on her shoes. Rick followed her to the door, grasping her hand and threading his fingers between hers.
Quinn picked up her purse as Rick opened the door. When she moved past him, he tugged her hand until they faced each other. “Call me as soon as you’re done.”
“I will.”
He gave her one more quick kiss and she left, the door to his condo not clicking shut until she stepped into the elevator. Downstairs, Mack’s old truck roared to life when Quinn turned the key. She sat in the garage for a few minutes, waiting for her hands to stop shaking.
Why would Rick have a bullet wound?
She knew he had served in the Marines, so it wasn’t that much of a shock. But this was a fresh wound. He had recently missed work to heal from it. That made it less than a month old.
Fell on a free weight, yeah right!
Quinn put the truck in gear, driving out of the parking garage, headed in the direction of her lawyer’s office. First she would deal with Travis, then she would call Mara. Her best friend would know what to make of Rick’s injury. And if she didn’t, Quinn was going to ask Rick directly. She thought she loved him, and the thought of someone shooting at him scared her to death.
No way was Quinn going to lose another person she was close to, not after finally finding happiness.
Agitated, Rick stood on the Paxton’s front step, hammering his fist on their front door.
“What the fuck, Ricochet? Ring the fucking doorbell!”
Rick shoved past an angry Clint, storming into the house.
“Mara!” Rick yelled out from the foyer as he made his way down the hall.
“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” Confused and irritated, Clint followed his friend to the great room.
“Mara!”
He found Mara Paxton sitting in the great room. “Jesus, Rick. Why are you yelling? Couldn’t you have called?” She stood up from the couch, a book and a glass of red wine in her hand.
Rick stormed over to Mara, getting up in her personal space, knowing he was acting insane. “Where’s Quinn?”
“What?” Mara’s brow pinched in confusion. “Quinn?” Her eyes flicked over Rick’s shoulder to her husband, who clearly had no clue what was going on.
“Don’t bullshit me, Mara. I’m not in the mood. Tell me where she is!”
Clint’s large hands landed on Rick’s shoulders, spinning him away from his wife. “Don’t ever fucking yell at my wife!” His thick finger stabbed into Rick’s chest repeatedly.
Rick slapped Clint’s hand away, snarling in the big man’s face. “Don’t—” Rick warned, his fists came up, the fighter in him ready to strike out.
“Rick. Quinn isn’t here. What’s going on?” Mara’s calm voice penetrated through the haze of testosterone.
The men glared at each other, chests heaving in anger. Rick broke eye contact to glance at Mara. “Quinn… I was supposed to go to her place this afternoon. She never called and never showed up. Last I saw her, she left my place this morning to meet with her lawyer. She’s not at her apartment or at the gym.”
“She’s not with us, Rick. I haven’t heard from Quinn since she left here the other night.”
Rick’s hands dropped to his side, a flood of nerves twisted his insides. “Do you know where her lawyer’s office is? Is it far? She could have had an accident in that deathtrap of Mack’s.” Rick began pacing the room. Quinn wouldn’t have disappeared again, not after last night.
“It’s in Midtown somewhere,” Mara whispered, her voice weighed down by something— guilt? Worry? Fear?
Rick came to an abrupt halt, his head whipping around to face the suddenly nervous woman. “What aren’t you telling me, Mara?”
She twitched anxiously, glancing at her husband for help.
“Tell him where the lawyer is, Mar. We need to make sure nothing happened to Quinn.”
Mara balked, torn between her loyalty to Quinn and Rick’s concern for her friend’s welfare. Rick’s head went back and forth between the two Paxton’s, not quite understanding why Mara was stalling with her answer.
“Mar—” Clint warned. “I’ll tell him if you don’t.”
“What? Tell me what? Don’t fuck around with me!” Rick was becoming unhinged.
Mara huffed in exasperation. “Fine, but if she gets pissed, it’s on you.” She pointed at her husband before turning to Rick. “Get your car, Rick. I’ll show you where it is.”
“Oh fuck no!” Clint snapped. “You’re not going unless I’m going with you. Ricochet here is in the middle of a meltdown. No way are you getting in a car with him alone.” He turned to Rick. “I’ll drive.”
Rick scowled, grinding his teeth together. “I think I can drive, Pax. I have over two hundred and fifty hours of tactical driving instruction under my belt, plus real life experience. I can manage just fine. We’re fucking wasting time!”
Rick knew he was being an asshole to his friend. He just couldn’t be bothered to care right now. He stormed out of the house, keys in hand, with Mara and Clint hot on his heels. They no sooner piled into Rick’s car and he was tearing out of the driveway, headed toward Midtown.
As they got closer, Rick started to panic. Quinn could seriously be lying in a ditch somewhere, Mack’s crappy truck overturned with her trapped inside. “Where do I go, Mara? Tell me!”
“Don’t snap at me, Rick. I’m trying to remember. I’m ninety percent sure it’s on the next street.” Mara was typing on her phone while glancing at the letterhead they had stopped to get from Quinn’s apartment. After insisting she could find the place, Mara hadn’t been able to remember the law firm’s name. “She’s going to be pissed that you broke into her place, Rick.”
Rick gripped the steering wheel harder, pressing his mouth into a tight line. Like he could give a shit about picking a lock if Quinn was in need of his help.
“There!” Mara pointed to a building on the left.
Even with traffic barreling towards them from the opposite lane, Rick jerked the wheel in front of them, pulling into the drive right before getting clipped by an oncoming SUV.
“You asshole!” Clint smacked the back of Rick’s head. “My wife is in the goddamn car.”
“I fucking know that, Clint!” Rick used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. He drove into the attached parking deck, scanning each level for Mack’s truck. There were very few cars left, so it wasn’t a difficult search.
“There!” Clint pointed to the left.
Rick jerked the car to a stop and jumped out, not bothering to turn off the ignition or pull into a parking spot
.
“Oh my God,” Mara whispered, her hands covering her mouth as she exited the car.
Clint and Mara exchanged horrified looks while Rick stood next to the cab of the rusty old Ford.
All of the training in the world couldn’t have prepared Rick for what he saw. The driver’s side door of the truck was open, the interior lights dead. Quinn’s purse and its contents were scattered along the oil-stained concrete. The rest of level three was completely empty.
Trembling, Rick hunched down to examine a small, dark spot on the ground, swiping his index finger through it. When he lifted his hand, the end of his finger was red.
Blood. Quinn’s blood.
He sank to his knees, not able to feel the rough concrete that dug into his skin, tearing at his flesh. Rick wasn’t sure if the scream he heard echoing through the garage came from Mara, or from him. All he knew was that the only woman he had ever loved was gone, the woman worth changing his life for, and something terrible had happened to her. A rush of regret made him nauseous.
I never told her I loved her.
“Rick.” Mara put a shaky hand on his shoulder. “I think I know who did this.” Her voice was thick as she spoke between sobs.
Rick staggered to his feet, clutching Mara’s arms for support. “Who? Tell me. If they hurt her, I’m going to fucking kill them!” Mara’s eyes widened at the seriousness of Rick’s statement, the truth in his eyes. She understood that he meant every word he said.
“Mara!”
Tears began to fall, streaming down her cheeks. “It… it was her husband.”
End of part 2
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Books
Sphere of Irony (a rock star series)
Incite — Adam
Strike — Dax (coming June 7)
The Famous Series
Relatively Famous
Absolutely Famous
Extremely Famous
Already Famous
Suddenly Famous (a novella)
Reluctantly Famous (a novella)
Ricochet
Locked & Loaded
Friendly Fire
Extraction Point