by Jemi Fraser
If he was still talking to her. If he still wanted her. He might think she was a coward. But she couldn’t be the only one feeling so deeply. They had to be able to work it out. Somehow.
Back to her phone. Nothing.
Needing to do something, she texted Sawyer asking if he’d spoken with Quinn.
Then she pulled Quinn’s number back up and started another text. Even if you’re mad at me, please text me to tell me you’re okay. At that moment, the swinging door started to open.
Her heart jumped. Quinn? Only he and Sawyer had keys so it had to be one of them.
The hair on the back of her neck lifted as a scent hit her. Mints. Sickeningly sweet breath mints.
A scent that made her want to vomit. And run.
Philip.
Her fingers fumbled with the phone but she managed to add Help and press send. No matter how pissed off Quinn was he’d answer that. If his phone was turned on.
She needed to text Sawyer or Dave as well but Philip rounded the door, slimy smile in place and hand in the pocket of his suit. “Hello, Darby, please put the phone down on the island. I would hate to have to hurt you.” His smile said otherwise. His smile said he would enjoy every moment of pain.
Moving slowly, Darby put the phone on the counter and stepped away. Her knife rack was on the opposite of the island, nearer Philip than her. Could she use one if she reached it? Could she stab another human being?
One look at Philip’s smarmy smile and remembering the pain she’d seen in Quinn’s face and she decided she could. If she could reach them.
The rolling pin she’d thought of earlier in the day had been put away in the pantry but she had to have something nearby she could use.
“Stay where you are, Darby. I’m here to get your help, not to hurt you.” Another smile that had her swallowing bile. “But that could change. Quite easily.”
Philip approached the island but kept it between them, staying well out of her reach. His eyes roved over her body and she couldn’t suppress the shudders. Her stomach clutched and she breathed deeply to stop herself from being sick. She needed her wits about her because there was no way Philip was winning round three.
It had to have been him in the alley the day before. Nothing else made sense. Where was Quinn? Had his brother hurt him?
“You’re more beautiful than ever, Darby. You always did know how to attract men. Always were a tease. I see nothing has changed.” He paused and when she didn’t respond, shook his head with a fake pout. “No response. Most women would thank a man for a compliment. Not you but that’s no surprise. You always thought you were better than everyone else. Nothing but a cock tease.” His voice had hardened as he spoke and his eyes darkened.
If she hadn’t been worried about what he held in his pocket she might have responded but her voice was stuck in her throat.
“You’re going to help me now. My jackass of a brother is resisting signing some papers and you’re going to help me convince him to do that.”
“Quinn isn’t here.” Her voice was shaky and she swallowed hard, knowing she couldn’t project fear. Philip was thriving on it.
Fury flashed in his eyes. “Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I don’t know that? I’ve already searched the house.” Until then she hadn’t thought about how he’d gotten inside. He must have broken a window or door. Hopefully one on Mrs. Ritchie’s side. The woman noticed everything and would call Darby. When she didn’t answer, she’d call Dave. Unless she decided to check it out for herself. Oh God, don’t let that happen.
“He’ll be back. So many of his things are here, most of them in your room.” His face darkened and his eyes glittered. “You’re sleeping with him, slumming. Lowering yourself. Trying to find a substitute for the real thing. You shouldn’t have said no the first time, Darby. You know you wanted to.”
“Bull.” The word snapped out before she could stop it. “You tried to rape me. You laid in wait like a coward and attacked me.”
Moving more quickly than she expected, Philip moved around the island and backhanded her across the face. Darby reeled back against the counter, stunned and shaken. Hand to her aching cheek, she pushed herself up to face him but unable to regret her words.
“You like it rough, do you? Little brother doesn’t have the balls for that but I’ll make sure we have time to play after he’s signed the damn papers.” He pointed a gun at her, held it in the same hand he’d slapped her with.
Philip breathed deeply, obviously trying to reign himself in. Eyes locked on hers, he backed up a few steps until he had some space to pace. If he took his eyes off her, she’d have a chance to grab something. What?
His gaze remained glued on her the entire time until his face lost some of the color and she could hear his teeth grinding. He drew in a deep breath and lifted the gun to point it at her again. “Stupid bitch. I’m the one in control here and you’ll do well to remember that.” His thumb stroked the gun. “I’m in control.” Was he trying to convince her or himself?
His eyes moved over her again, making her want to close her eyes but she didn’t. Couldn’t let him have any more advantage than he already had.
“Where is he?”
Deciding playing stupid wouldn’t help her at the moment, she answered. “I don’t know. He left last night and I haven’t heard from him since.”
Philip’s eyes glittered at that. “Did you have a fight? Maybe we’ll have that playtime now.”
Darby gripped the counter behind her. She needed a weapon because he wasn’t getting the chance to touch her this time. Slowly she moved her hands to open the drawer behind her. No knives but other utensils. She’d take anything she could grab.
When he’d attacked her at her apartment she’d used a lamp that had been knocked over when he’d shoved her into her hallway. It had been heavy enough to daze him while she escaped to her bathroom. Nothing that heavy in her drawer but she’d find something. She had to.
Flashbacks edged into her brain. His breath, his hands ripping at her shirt and bra, his mouth trying to find her breasts while one hand had lifted her skirt and reached under her panties. He’d had his fingers inside her before she’d clonked him.
Sweat beaded on her skin while she worked to push back the memories. She’d beat him before. He wasn’t winning. He wasn’t getting to touch her. She’d rather take a bullet.
Philip moved a step closer and Darby slid sideways, further from the utensil drawer but further from Philip as well. Not the right direction for the knives.
“I just need a fucking signature. Is that too much to ask? If he’d signed it the first time I’d asked, or our father asked, I wouldn’t be here. This is his fault. All on him.” Philip slammed his free hand on the counter, making her jump. The man was crazy. And scary as hell.
“Where is he?” Philip shouted the question in her face and she backed away again, ending up in the corner of the cabinets. Trapped.
Think. “I really don’t know. He didn’t say when he left.”
“Liar.” He brought the gun up and ran it lightly down her cheek, making her skin crawl and she held onto the counter behind her, willing herself to not show the terror.
“I’m not lying. Why do you need his signature?”
“Business. A simple business transaction that could save the family’s investment but no, he’s too self-absorbed to help. Turned his back on his family.” Caught up in his tirade, Philip waved the gun around as he spoke. He wasn’t as strong as Quinn but even with the moves Sawyer had taught her, she didn’t think she could beat him and a gun, especially when he had her trapped in the corner.
According to all the TV shows, getting the crazy man to talk was a good thing, keep him distracted and give her time. Except her question had ramped Philip up. He raged on about investments and plans and taxes and she tuned him out. She needed to think. Gain some kind of advantage.
A distraction.
“Would you like some coffee while we wait? Or something to eat? I’ve got
some fresh tarts. Apple pie?” She sounded like a housewife from the fifties but it slowed down Philip’s cursing.
“Coffee. Coffee would be good. Don’t do anything funny. I’m watching.” He lifted her chin with his gun to prove it.
When he moved back a step and took away the gun, she nodded and turned before closing her eyes to keep in the tears. And the screams. The coffee maker was right behind her and the coffee in the cupboard above her head. No reason for her to move away from him. Not yet. Maybe she could get him to sit at the counter then make a run for it.
Keeping her hands as steady as she could, Darby opened the cupboard and pulled down the coffee, hoping doing something normal would free up part of her brain to think.
When she reached on her toes to get the mugs, the heavy ones she could maybe bash on his head, Philip growled and came up behind her to stick the gun in her back. “Nothing stupid.”
Unable to speak, she nodded and pulled down a mug. Keeping the gun steady in her side, Philip stepped even closer and wrapped his other arm around her waist then pulled her back into him where she could feel his erection. She shoved away but he yanked her back and jammed the gun in harder. “I think the coffee will wait. It’s time for you to pay the piper, Darby. Showing off that fine ass in those tight jeans. Just asking for it.”
Fear shot through her, turned her body rigid as a plank. His hand grabbed her breast and pinched it. Darby let out a squeal and tried to pull away. “Stop it.”
In response, he laughed and shoved her hard against the counter and covered her body with his.
“Get your hands off me.”
He pinched her again. “I like that. Feisty. You want it rough, I’m more than willing to accommodate you.” Knowing she shouldn’t provoke him but unable to help herself, Darby tried to escape. He had her pinned too tightly to use her elbows or feet but he wasn’t molesting her without a fight.
Her struggles made him chuckle in her ear. “Time to see how you handle a real man.”
QUINN held onto the dashboard and the door handle all the way through town. Mrs. Hammond cackled as she took turns on two wheels for real and blew through stop signs, blasting her horn in delight to warn everyone.
“After you drop me off, can you go to the police station and get Dave?”
“I’ll be there in a flash. Maybe he’ll let me drive the police car.”
Not unless he’d lost his mind.
Only a dozen blocks.
“You’re going to take care of your young lady, aren’t you? Make your brother leave her alone?”
“I am.” Because he couldn’t already be too late.
Mrs. Hammond turned and flash him a grin, kind of like a jack-o-lantern. “I hope you realize she’s special to us.” Her hand came off the wheel so she could shake a finger at him. Keeping one hand on the door, he leaned over to keep the wheel steady. She slapped at him. “Stop that. I’ve been driving longer than your daddy’s been alive. I hope you’re not this bossy with Darby. She deserves someone who’s going to cherish her, not smother her.”
Thankfully, the rheumy eyes turned back to the road. “I won’t smother her, Mrs. Hammond, I love her just the way she is.”
The old lady let out a sigh and reached over to pat his hand. It took all his self-control to not grab the wheel again. “Good. You’ll make a handsome couple and create beautiful babies. Have you gotten started on that yet?”
Quinn didn’t think he’d ever been so relieved as when they turned the corner and approached the B&B. Instead of answering Mrs. Hammond, he held on as she squealed to a stop, smoke rising up from all four tires. He leaned over to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “You’re the best, Mrs. Hammond. Don’t forget to get Dave.”
“As soon as you get your cute little butt out of the car.”
Jesus.
True to her word, she squealed off almost before he’d slammed the door shut. “Make things right with her, you hear me?”
Shaking his head, Quinn jogged up the stairs and unlocked the door, his worry increasing with each step. Had Philip shown up again? Had Philip hurt her all those years ago? Was that why she’d had such a hard time looking him in the eye? If it was, how could she bear to look at him now?
The house smelled like heaven but it didn’t ease the fear in Quinn’s gut. She cooked like Julia Child on crack when she was stressed and the competing scents told him she was really, really stressed. Because he was an idiot. He should have stayed and talked it out with her, told her everything.
Instead, he’d left her alone and worried. Such a jerk.
“Get off me!” Darby’s yell had Quinn bursting through the door and halfway across the kitchen before he realized Philip had her pressed against the counter. When the swinging door crashed against the kitchen wall, Philip whirled holding Darby in front of him like a shield. One hand squeezed her breast the other held a gun pointed right at her ribs.
Everything inside Quinn froze and for a moment the three of them stared at each other.
Every instinct he owned wanted to leap across the kitchen, tackle his brother and beat him senseless but he held a gun on Darby. Right where he couldn’t possibly miss. Quinn couldn’t take the chance.
His brain clicked through his options. If he were Sawyer, he’d have disarmed the man before he’d turned around and Darby would be safe. So think like his buddy. How?
Calm. Sawyer projected calm like no one else Quinn had ever met. The only time he’d ever seen him stressed was when Myla had been in danger.
What would the SEAL do? Talk. Calm Philip down. Take away the blood lust flaring in his eyes. And get his hands the hell off Darby.
“Looks like it’s time to tell me what those papers are about, Philip. What kind of mess did our greedy father create this time? Did one of his scams finally catch up with him?”
Philip’s eyes narrowed and his skin lost some of the purple hue. Quinn kept his eyes on Philip, if he looked at Darby and saw any fear, he’d lose it. Completely. Focus on his brother because he had to save her. Had to.
“Did he use your name in this scam too or was I the lucky one for this particular mess?” He kept his tone as easy as he could make it. Just two brothers talking about their scum of a father.
Philip shrugged, eyes on his brother. Attention off Darby. He wanted to glance at the gun, see where it was pointing now but he couldn’t risk it, not until he was closer. Keeping his upper body steady, he slid his feet closer, an inch at a time.
“If the file has my name, I can assume it’s a long term thing, right? Something he cooked up when we were kids? I bet he’s got a bunch of scams and investments in our names. Good way to keep the money from the taxman. Now he’s getting caught in his own convoluted plans.”
Philip nodded and Quinn risked another step forward. He felt Darby’s gaze like a magnetic pull but he had to ignore it or risk bringing his brother’s attention back to her.
“Our father doesn’t understand family, never has. Always treated us as assets, not sons. All he’s interested in is increasing his own bank account, no matter what the expense to others. I hope he hasn’t screwed you over with these schemes, too. I’d hate to think he pulled you into something illegal. Maybe we can figure out a way around that.” Quinn didn’t believe his own bullshit for a second but it seemed to be working on his brother because Quinn had closed the distance by half.
Philip kept nodding and Quinn could almost see the wheels turning as he tried to figure out a way to put all of the blame on their father and walk away with no blame.
“I’ve been thinking about it, him needing my signature, I mean. Makes me wonder. I didn’t sign anything in the first place so he must have forged my signature. Why not simply do it again?” Quinn had been asking himself that for days.
Another nod. Another step closer.
“I signed up for my own bank account long before he knew about it. Kept all the cash I earned mowing lawns in there. He’d have had a fit if he’d found out I’d been doing manual labor but
a boy needs cash, you know.” Quinn forced a smile, probably looked more like a grimace but it had Philip nodding along like a bobblehead doll. A doll with a gun.
“That means the bank has my signature on file from when I was a kid. I’m betting you do, too. We could probably use those to make sure the law knows we didn’t do anything illegal. That way his screw-ups are all on him, not on us.”
Philip’s lips firmed as he nodded yet again. His eyes had lost the lust, instead, he seemed speculative. “It might work.”
It might, because Philip seemed to have forgotten he had his arms full of Darby and instead of the gun, he was focused on concocting a plan to save his sorry ass. Quinn slid forward again. “I think it would. He’s probably been ripping you off for years. Wouldn’t surprise me at all. We should be able to figure out a plan.”
Philip lifted his hands, probably to make some point and Darby exploded. With the gun off her ribs, she threw an elbow into Philip’s gut even as she tried to shove the gun away with her other arm.
Quinn dove in at the same time, trying to get between her and the weapon. Arms and legs struggled. An explosion rocked the room and Darby squealed. Was she hit?
Panic made him crazy and he put every ounce of muscle into controlling his brother and the gun. They were physically similar but Philip’s extra weight wasn’t muscle. Quinn’s history of playing sports instead of sitting at a desk gave him the upper hand. He found Philip’s wrist and put both hands on it then used all of his weight to pin the wrist to the ground. “Darby? You okay? Grab the gun, honey. Get it out of his hands.”
Relief poured through him when her hands moved into his vision and she grabbed the gun. Philip screamed in frustration and writhed beneath him.
Quinn shifted his weight, pinning his brother more securely.
“Get off me, you bastard. You’re nothing, do you hear me? Nothing. Acting like you’re something because you’re running a store. A store. You’re pathetic. Always have been. Get off me.”
Philip tried to use his extra pounds to lever himself up and his eyes widened as he looked past Quinn. “You bitch. This is all your fault. You let him into your bed, you slut. I’ll have you one way or another.”