When Quinn’s breathing evened out, he gently stroked down her side and over her hip.
“You’re so strong, doll. We’ll get through this. I promise.”
For once, Rick allowed exhaustion to overtake him, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep— no Travis, no worries, no fear of losing Quinn— tomorrow, reality would rear it’s ugly head, but it could wait. Nothing would ruin this quiet, comforting time spent wrapped around the woman he loved.
“I don’t fucking know what to do, Dane!”
Rick punched at the heavy bag, fresh off a training session with a fighter who needed some help with his striking.
“Jesus, Rick. That asshole could be anywhere. He could fucking be right next door and we wouldn’t know it.” Dane stood behind the bag as Rick pounded on it, holding it in place for him.
Spurred on by Dane’s words, Rick hit the bag harder and faster until exhaustion took over. Sweat dripped into his eyes, down his chest, making a mess on the floor. Rick snatched up his towel to clean everything off.
“Let me shower and I’ll meet you in Mission Control.”
Even with the stress of the situation, Dane grinned. “Quinn really loves hanging out in there with Tucker. Just the two of them. Alone.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly.
Rick shot a glare his way, his water bottle hovering an inch from his mouth. “Please, are you suggesting Quinn is interested in the big guy?” He scoffed at the thought.
“Why not?” Dane shrugged. “He’s a nerd, she’s a closet nerd… they can make little nerdy babies and live happily ever after.”
Halfway through taking a long drink, Rick sputtered and coughed, choking on his water. Dane threw his head back and laughed as his friend struggled to breathe.
“You fucking dick!” Rick punched Dane in the arm, knocking the large man sideways.
“Go shower, Ricochet. You stink.” Dane headed for the hallway. “I’ll be working with Tucker and your girl.”
Rick hurried through his shower, more determined than ever to find Quinn’s ex-husband and get him out of her life for good. He frowned, remembering that he promised Quinn he wouldn’t kill the asshat. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t permanently maim him, right? Smiling at his clever way to get around his promise, Rick threw on his clothes and left the locker room.
When Rick entered Mission Control, all hell was breaking loose. Dane was yelling into his cellphone, barking out orders to whoever was on the other end of the line. Tucker had his Bluetooth on, his hands flying over the keypad while he spoke to someone and monitored four different screens, all at the same time.
“What the—”
Rick froze when he found Quinn, standing in the back corner, her face pale and drawn. This woman, who in such a short time had somehow become the most important thing in Rick’s world, was finally falling to pieces. He quickly closed the small gap between them, pulling Quinn into the safety of his arms.
“What’s happening?” When she didn’t answer, he crouched down so he was level with her pale face. “Quinn?”
Wide, glistening eyes met Rick’s. “They found him.”
Rick immediately ushered a stunned Quinn out of the room, gently lowering her into a chair in the break room. “Wait here. I’ll find out more and be right back.”
Fucking son of a bitch!
Pure hatred flowed through his veins, the violent man in him bursting to be set free. Rick had to concentrate to keep his face neutral in Quinn’s presence, but as soon as he left the break room… well, it was game-fucking-on.
As he turned to leave, Quinn’s small hand shot out, curling around his wrist. “Remember, you promised.” Her voice was soft, but firm.
His mouth pressed into a tight line, his muscles already tense and ready for action. “I remember.” Rick waited for Quinn to let go before hurrying back to Mission Control.
“Where is that fucker?” He demanded the second he stalked through the door. Rick dropped into the seat next to Tucker and hooked a Bluetooth over his ear.
“He finally caved and used an ATM just outside of Atlanta,” Tucker replied, never breaking his concentration as he continued scanning through images on the bank of screens spread out in front of them. “Then I got a hit with the facial recognition software. I had to alter the algorithm to find him. For some reason it couldn’t pick him out using his DMV photo.”
Dane hung up on whomever he was speaking to and acknowledged Rick. “Seems like the asshole is still local.” He gestured towards the screens Tucker had up with Travis’ grainy image frozen on them— one from an ATM camera and one from some sort of security camera. Dane pointed at the security camera photo. “That’s from outside a parking garage off Peachtree and 16th street.”
“That’s right near here! No way. He can’t be that stupid. He must know that Quinn filed a police report for kidnapping and assaulting her. Stupid motherfucker.” Rick shook his head, pissed off that Quinn tied his hands. This guy was damned determined to get to her, regardless of what it would cost him personally. Wanting a better look at the images, Rick moved closer. “Something’s not right with his face. I noticed it when he tried to snatch her from the parking lot. A big ass scar from here to here.” He made a slashing motion from his eye to his chin.
With a shrug, Dane swiveled his chair back and forth like a big kid. “Something’s not right with him, period. Mack and the others are on their way in to decide on a course of action.”
Tucker shot him a nasty glare. “I could have used that information sooner, Rick. Then I would have known to change the algorithm before now.”
“Fuck. I didn’t think. I was too busy being worried about Quinn.” Rick stood and paced the room furiously, alternating between rubbing the back of his neck and swearing under his breath. Being this emotionally involved was causing him to make mistakes. But he couldn’t change the fact that he loved Quinn and wanted to protect her.
He wanted to end this man’s life so badly his body was actually humming with need. Rick was really regretting his promise to Quinn— more than he thought he would. He was contemplating killing the man anyway, devising of ways to keep Quinn from finding out.
The three men spun around when Mack poked his head in from the hallway. “I’ve got everyone out here. Why don’t you join us and tell us what you’ve found.”
“I’ll take Quinn upstairs. She shouldn’t hear any of this. She saw the images but doesn’t know where they were taken. I don’t want her to know he’s still nearby. Wait for me to get back before starting.”
Mack nodded and left the room.
It took some prodding and gentle words, but Rick finally got Quinn to let him take her to her apartment and put her in bed, where she was so exhausted, she fell asleep almost immediately. Rick brushed a strand of her long dark hair back from her face, admiring her strength but hating the toll it was taking. Where there was once a radiant, healthy woman, was a pale, gaunt looking girl. The circles under her eyes were almost purple, tiny lines framed them where the skin used to be smooth. Rick clenched his fists, more determined than ever to have his revenge.
By the time he got back to the gym, his coworkers were gathered in the training area, arguing over what their next move should be.
Rick noticed Mack standing off to the side, alone, appearing to be deep in thought. He’d been doing that a lot lately.
“Hey chief. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
The older man rubbed at the grey stubble on his chin, looking thoughtfully around the room. “Everyone here would kill for her, you know.”
Rick paused, uncertain where Mack was going with this. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I know that.”
“Good,” Mack said. He strode over to the group of men and whistled loudly for their attention. “Gear up! We’re going to canvass the four-block area around the ATM and parking garage. I expect to each of you to report your status to Tucker every fifteen minutes. It’s daylight, so keep the weapons light people. No need to frighten innocent citizens. L
et’s move!” His rough, commanding bark made the former soldiers move quickly.
Rick stood in the gym as his teammates filed out, unsure what to do. He promised Quinn he wouldn’t kill Travis. If he went out there with his team, he couldn’t make any guarantees. He didn’t know what he would do when it came down to it. If he could restrain from doing whatever he had to do, even if it cost him her love.
“Ricochet.”
Mack put his large hand on Rick’s shoulder as he said his name. “She’s like a daughter to me, Rick. Trust me when I say I’ll do what it takes to get that piece of shit ex of hers.” Rick looked Mack in the eyes. They were steady and unwavering, his scarred face as serious as he’d ever seen it. “I’ll stay here with Tucker and watch her, you go with the guys.”
“But Quinn—”
“Go.” Mack patted his shoulder, pushing him gently in the direction of the locker room. “You need to do this for you. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.”
“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Mack.”
“Just get that motherfucker, Rick. The world will be a better place without him.”
Before Rick could answer, Mack turned and headed for his office.
I hope I don’t regret this… Who the fuck am I kidding? I can’t wait to get my hands on that piece of shit.
Rick pushed open the door to the locker room, gearing up with his teammates. They were in the SUV pulling out of the parking lot so quickly, he didn’t have time for any doubts. All he could think of was his hands around Travis’ neck.
“I can’t believe this,” Quinn muttered as she walked around her apartment, chewing her thumbnail down to a stub.
“Quinn, you need to relax. I told you, most likely, if they find him they’ll turn him in to the authorities.”
She twisted her head around to glare at Mara. After calling her best friend in a moment of sheer panic, Mara had dropped everything to come over immediately. Right now, Mara was sitting on Quinn’s couch, acting as if she didn’t have a care in the world. It didn’t seem to matter to her that Rick was breaking his promise or that his men— including her husband— were about to commit murder.
“How can I relax?” Quinn walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat. She opened the refrigerator and without looking at the contents, slammed it shut in disgust. “Don’t you care that they’re hunting down a man in a populated city in the middle of the day?”
“Come here, sit next to me.” Mara patted the couch cushion.
She pouted, but did as her friend said, dropping dramatically onto the seat.
“It’s no different from what the police do, Quinn. They’re following leads to find a criminal. That’s all.”
“It’s vigilantism and you know it.”
“Only if they harm him.” Mara shifted to face her. “Honestly, I’m surprised you feel this way, Quinn.” Mara covered Quinn’s hand with hers. “I would think you’d want him gone for good. I’ve known my husband a long time, known what he does for almost as long… these guys, they don’t take the job lightly and they aren’t bad men. They do only what has to be done— no more, no less.”
Her heart ached from the opposing feelings inside her. One side wanted him dead and buried six feet under so he could never hurt her again. The other side couldn’t imagine hunting a person down and killing him like an animal. “To want that would make me no better than Travis, Mara. That’s not me. I can’t explain it. I hate him— so much.” She swiped at a single tear that escaped from her tired eyes. “But I couldn’t live with myself, with the guilt, of killing someone or knowing I was turning the other way while someone is murdered.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “If there’s one thing I learned while I was with Travis, it’s that I’ll never make that mistake again. I won’t be with a man who will hurt others or kill in cold blood.”
“Quinn,” Mara said in a kind voice, “you know what Rick does. You know what they do here. Clint, Dane, Ben—”
She shook her head. “I had this same conversation with Rick. Flying into a war zone, taking out an enemy or rescuing hostages… it’s not the same and you know it.”
Mara sighed, releasing her hand so he could sit back on the couch. “I can understand that. Let me assure you that Rick is not a bad man. He is not Travis. No matter what happens today, you’re the only person I’ve ever seen him care about. Don’t let this…” she gestured frantically with her hands, “this thing ruin what you have with him.”
Quinn copied her friend’s posture, leaning back into the cushions. She closed her eyes, desperate to put all of this behind her.
Am I wrong? Should I want Travis dead?
The thing was, as guilty as it made her feel, part of her did want Travis dead. Just not by Rick’s hand. Not murder. Maybe Travis would drive off the road and his car would burst into flames. That would make this entire thing go away painlessly. Well, for her anyway, not Travis.
Smiling, Quinn wished for exactly that.
Chapter 7
Hours later, after Mara had gone home, Quinn was curled up on a chair in Mack’s office, reading a book while Mack sat in front of his laptop. She had started to doze off when Tucker poked his head in.
“Mack—”
He stopped short when he noticed Quinn. “Oh, hi Quinn.”
“It’s okay Tucker, go ahead.” Mack gestured for him to keep speaking.
Quinn put her book down and straightened up, her eyes darting back and forth between the two men. Unintentionally, she put a hand up to her chest, a sad attempt to calm her racing heart.
This is it.
“They’re on their way back. He— uh, he got away.”
Mack nodded and Tucker disappeared without another word. Quinn didn’t know what to think. She swallowed down the thick lump that had formed in her throat. How could she be both disappointed that Travis was still alive, yet thoroughly relieved that he wasn’t killed? It made no sense and these warring feelings were turning her into a wreck.
“Can I go home now?” she asked, her stomach churning nervously.
“Why don’t you wait for everyone to—”
Mack was cut off by a loud crashing noise in the gym, followed by shouting. Without thinking, she raced down the hall, recognizing Rick’s voice.
“Fuck! Fuuuuck!” Rick was standing in front of the heavy bag, hitting it over and over again, letting out a constant stream of obscenities as his fists flew violently.
Quinn came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the padded mats. Ben was righting a weight rack that she could only assume Rick had knocked over in a fit of rage. For the first time ever, she was honestly afraid to approach Rick. His fury was so palpable Quinn could feel it all the way down to her bones. It was so potent— it literally sent chills across her skin. She was at a total loss as to what to do.
Thankfully, Clint walked over to Rick, unafraid to get within striking distance of a very hostile former Recon Marine. She couldn’t hear what Clint murmured in Rick’s ear, but whatever it was, it didn’t help. Rick lashed out, shoving the large man out of his way and yelling in his face. “Fuck off!” He thundered past Quinn without glancing her way and disappeared into the locker room, leaving everyone stunned.
Quinn winced at the loud banging of metal on metal that came from behind the closed door, looking to Clint for help. He shrugged and averted his eyes. “It didn’t go down well, Quinn.”
That much was obvious, but it didn’t explain Rick’s behavior. Or why he wouldn’t so much as look at her. Less than a minute later, Rick stormed back out of the locker room, once again passing Quinn without acknowledging her presence.
“Rick!” Quinn couldn’t let him leave like this. Not without an explanation as to why he was so angry and why it felt like that anger was directed at her specifically. She took a few steps with the intention of following him.
Without warning, Rick whirled around. Quinn flinched when she caught sight of the hostile expression he wore. “Don’t!” He stabbed a finger in her
direction, warning her not to speak. “I can’t—” Rick was beyond agitated. She watched, helpless, as he tore at his own hair, his jaw clenched in frustration. Rick shook his head. “I can’t do this.” Before she could take another breath, he was gone.
Stunned and humiliated, Quinn could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she stood in the middle of the gym. She caught a glimpse of Mack, standing by himself doing that deep thinking thing he’d been doing a lot of lately. Clint must have sensed her impending breakdown, because he took her elbow and quickly escorted her back to her apartment. Once there, instead of losing it, Quinn was completely numb, unable to process the rapid-fire events of the last ten minutes.
“Here.” She felt a glass of water being pressed into her hand as Clint led her to the couch. He dropped into the ratty old armchair opposite where she sat and leaned over the coffee table to talk. “Rick is angry.”
A slightly hysterical giggle bubbled up from Quinn’s throat. “You think?” She gaped, struggling to explain how she felt. “I don’t get it? Is he gone? Why is he angry with me? What—”
“He is angry, but it’s—” he sighed. “It’s misdirected at you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Clint’s mouth twisted up, clearly uncomfortable having to be the one to tell Quinn what had Rick acting so out of character.
“He had Travis in his sights… could have taken him out. But—”
Oh.
“But he didn’t because I made him promise not to.” When it clicked into place, she suddenly felt suffocated, as if the room were closing in on her.
Clint took her hand and awkwardly patted it. “He’ll come around. He just needs some time. Rick isn’t used to failure. And he isn’t used to caring.”
Quinn vaguely remembered nodding as Clint said something about having Mara check on her later and the guys watching her apartment on the security cameras. She heard the quiet click of her front door and she was alone.
Ricochet: Extraction Point Page 8