by Aubrey Irons
I can feel her hands on my biceps as she grabs me tightly; “Logan-”
Her whispered voice is strained and tinged with fear and I instinctively find myself moving in front of her, between her and the door. There’s a million fucking thoughts blasting through my head, and every synapse and every muscle in my body is cocked and spring-loaded and ready to explode into action. The first thing I can think of is that I’m not going to let a Goddamn thing happen to this girl.
The intercom crackles to life again; “Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ll be making an unscheduled stop on our way back to New York to, uh, to settle some debts.” Javier’s voice chuckles over the speakers, the sound of it sharp and grating; “You’ve been a bad, bad boy, Logan,” Javier tut-tuts me, and suddenly the door to the cockpit opens and he’s standing there, leveling a gun at me. Quinn gasps behind me, her hands clutching at my arms and back as she flinches at the sight of the gun. I’m flashing my teeth at Javier, practically snarling like an animal in full-on protective mode as he grins wickedly at me.
“We had a deal, Logan,” He says evenly, shaking his head dramatically, as if he’s disappointed in me or something; “You fight how and when I tell you too, and all your dirty little secrets stay right here.” He taps on his head as he grins at me like a shark.
“Something came up,” I growl out.
Javier chuckles; “Sorry marica, but fucking little rich girls on a Caribbean island doesn’t really count.” He shrugs and tsk-tsks me again; “A deal is a deal, Irish, and you fucked up.”
“Then let’s renegotiate,” I snarl out, feeling every muscle in my body screaming as I stand there tense as a coiled spring ready to do something the second he tries to get close to Quinn.
“Ni de coña!” Javier laughs; “No way, Papi!” He shouts something, and suddenly the door to galley in the back of the jet bangs open and two of his guys step out.
Sparks and fire flash through my head as I try and calculate my odds of reacting and not getting one of us shot here before I admit to myself that they’re pretty shit odds.
The men start to advance on us, holding rope, and Quinn starts to scream as she grabs for me. My fists are clenched into white-knuckle fury, and I get one step towards the two new guys before I feel the cold, heavy metal of a gun barrel on the back of my head and freeze.
“You fucked up, Irish,” Javier’s voice is low behind me as he cocks the pistol in his hand. The men advance on us, and Quinn is still screaming and clutching at my arm as Javier leans close to my ear, his voice a dark whisper; “You made a big mistake coming here, Logan, and now I gotta show you just how big a mistake it was.”
The men pull black bags out, their faces dark and neutral as they step towards us.
Protect them.
One fucking simple request from the man who gave me my second shot at life. One job; protect his daughters, and here I am utterly failing at that.
I’m sorry; so fucking sorry.
I lunge forward, and I feel the sharp crack of something hitting the back of my head before I start to fall to the ground. Quinn’s screaming as they grab her and start to pull the bag over her head, and it’s the last sound I hear before everything goes black.
28
Quinn
“You know, I gotta say, you look good, marica! I mean you might’ve fucked up pretty bad, but at least you got yourself a tan down there.”
My mouth tastes like cotton as I slowly open my eyes to blackness, and at first I’m terrified that I’m blind or something until I remember the bag. Slowly, I can see light trickling through the course fabric, and I’m trying to peer through it when the sudden presence of Javier’s voice right next to my ear makes me gasp and flinch away from the sound.
“Oooh! Looks like your girlfriend woke up, Irish!” I gasp as the bag is quickly yanked from my head, and I’m blinking my eyes at the sudden light, however dim. My breath catches in my throat as I slowly take everything in around me.
The first thing I see is Logan, his battered-looking face intently and wildly looking at me from across the room from the chair he’s bound to. My arms feel sore, though I quickly realize I’m not tied up like he is; like that means anything with Javier and two large men with guns in the room with us.
“Get the fuck away from her.” He snarls, his biceps bulging as he grits his teeth and strains against his bonds.
“Oh, from her?” Javier grins and runs the back of his hand sickeningly across my cheek; “I’m not so sure, Logan! I’m just not so sure!” He nods his head as if he’s thinking some sort of deep thought, and he turns on his heel and walks slowly towards Logan; “Orders, Marine; orders. You see there’s a chain of command for a reason, cabrón, but I guess you missed that day back in Marine school.” He reaches out and pats Logan on the cheek, who snarls and whips his head away as Javier chuckles; “So, I’m thinking, maybe you need to learn a solid lesson about doing what you’re fucking told to do, Marine; a big lesson.” He turns and winks at me, giving me an evil smile that makes my skin crawl.
Logan strains violently at his ropes; “You leave her the fuck alone!” He snarls at Javier; “You wanna hurt someone? Hurt me, fucker.”
Javier about doubles over laughing; “Oh, please; come on, Logan! What do you think I’m gonna do, hit you?” He turns to his goons and shakes his head while he shrugs dramatically; “Nah, no way Papi. You’re the type of fucked-up weirdo that enjoys that shit too much.”
“So what do you want.”
“What do I want, Logan?” Javier tsks and shakes his head; “We had a deal, remember? I just want you to keep up your end of it.”
“Blackmail isn’t a deal.”
Javier shrugs; “Well, it’s not one you want, but it’s still a deal.” He turns to look at me again; “I bet she still doesn’t know, does she? About Africa?” I stare at him defiantly, but I can see that wicked grin on his face curling into something even more sinister; “No? Oohhh, then I bet she also doesn’t about Afghanistan either, does she.” He smirks at me; “I bet you didn’t know Captain save-the-world over here is wanted by the U.S. Government for desertion of duties and colluding with the enemy, did you?”
A chill runs up my spine, and even though I try and stop them, my eyes instantly flick to Logan. Javier catches the move and chuckles; “Uh-oh! I think I just blew up your spot here, marica; you’ve got some explaining to do now!”
“Quinn-”
Logan’s chest is rising and falling heavily with his breaths, and he slowly shakes his head at me; “It’s not-”
“Oh, come on, Logan!” Javier hoots; “You gonna be that clichéd about it? ‘Oh, it’s not what you think, baby’,” he pantomimes to me before rolling his eyes; “Yeah, chica, it’s everything you think it looks like. Soldier boy over here skipped out of the Marines in Afghanistan. Fucked right off in the middle of battle like some kinda chicken-shit and just ditched it like a bad date.”
Logan’s eyes are locked on mine, and he’s slowly shaking his head as his face grows paler and tenser. He looks more hurt and more terrified in that moment than anything I’ve ever seen from him before; even more-so than anything I’ve ever seen from him after a fight. My heart breaks a little bit knowing I can’t just walk over there and hold him and tell him it’s ok right now.
“I met up with him and his little pals working for Blackriver in Africa,” He winks at me; “Mercenary outfit, in case you didn’t kn-”
“Don’t listen to him, Quinn,” Logan says through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving my face; “Don’t listen to a word he-”
I scream as Javier’s fist comes comes crashing across Logan’s mouth, knocking his head sideways with a thud. Javier hoots and shakes his hand; “Dios mio, Papi! You got a jaw like a fuckin brick wall!” His goons cackle at his joke as Logan turns and spits blood on the floor.
“Logan!” I start to jump up from my chair when one of the big guys shoves me back down. Javier hoots out another laugh and turns back to Logan; “You know, I take it back; I migh
t just learn to enjoy smackin you around with her here watching it.”
He cracks his fist across Logan’s face again, and the sound of his grunt tears at me like someone ripping my heart out.
“So how about it, cabrón; you gonna go fight who I tell you to fight next week? We learn our lesson yet?”
Logan grimaces and shakes his head before he looks up, blood trickling from his lip as he grins like a crazy person at Javier; “You know what? I’m actually having a hard time with the first part of the assignment if you wouldn’t mind going back over it.”
Javier shakes his head slowly before he turns to me; “Your boyfriend’s a funny man, you know.” He whirls and slugs Logan in the gut with his fist, and I can feel the sharp jolt of anger pounding inside of me.
“Don’t watch, Quinn.” Logan’s looking right at me, his mouth bleeding as he shakes his head; “Look away, just-”
Bam. Javier’s fist crashes into his gut again, doubling him up as much as the ropes tying him will allow. I cry out, wincing and turning my head as if hit myself. And it’s then that I notice my bag sitting on the ground next to my chair; my medical supply bag from the plane.
“How about now, Papi? How’s my fuckin tutoring going that little problem you’re having with the lesson?” Javier back-hands Logan sharply across the face, and suddenly, it’s like something is snapping inside of me. It’s a slow burn, and at first I just think it’s the fear and helplessness of the situation tightening inside of me. But slowly, the burn grows hotter and hotter, and suddenly I realize that the emotion clawing up from somewhere deep inside of me is rage.
And there’s another emotion I’m suddenly realizing as I flinch again at the sound of Javier hitting Logan. Because it’s right then in that dingy room that I recognize the emotion totally consuming every fiber of my being for the man bound, beaten, and yet not broken in the chair across from me.
And I recognize it as love.
The burn flares inside of me, and I’m suddenly filled with purpose; fiery, blazing hot and steely purpose.
Javier’s fist connects once more with Logan before he whistled and steps away, shaking his fist; “Goddamn, Irish! We shoulda done this years ago!” He turns and steps towards me, moving closer and closer as he brings a handkerchief out of his pocket and starts to wipe the blood off his knuckles; blood from the man I love.
The man I love.
“You know, chica, a lot of Papas bring toys home to their little girls from business trips,” He puts his hands on the arms of my chair and leans right down close to my face; “Too bad your daddy brought you back such a broken one.”
And that’s when I snap.
In the medical field, you always hear stories of people taking on almost super-human abilities in crisis situations, like mothers lifting entire cars off their kids after an accident or something. I’d never believed those stories, but that was before that exact moment. Because in that moment, I move faster than I could have ever imagined.
Or Javier, for that matter.
It’s like the whole world except me goes into slow motion as my hand jabs down into my medical bag to the side of my chair. My fingers push through gauze and wrappers and and bandages until they touch cold steel and lock around it. And before my brain can really process what I’m doing, I’m yanking my hand back out of the bag and sinking the surgical blade deep into the side of Javier’s neck.
And that’s when all hell breaks loose.
Javier screams as he clutches at his neck and falls back onto the floor; blood gushing out from his fingers. Both of his goons look frozen to the spot, and just start to scream at him while Logan starts yelling my name.
I’m froze for half a second, drowning in the surging chaos of the moment around me before I stand from my chair.
“STOP!” The room goes silent at my scream. The two goons whirl on me with guns drawn, and Logan strains at his ropes. But for some reason, I’ve never been more focused in my life.
“I’m a doctor,” I say evenly, leveling my gaze at the two men with guns; “And I’ve just cut his artery.” I glance down to Javier, choking and sputtering and holding his neck on the floor; “He has one minutes until he goes under; two before he bleeds out entirely.”
One of the two guards cocks his pistol and my eyes dart to his; “And I’m pretty fucking sure I’m the only one here who knows how to fix that!”
The room goes still like a frozen scene from a movie.
“Untie him, now.” I say, my eyes blazing fire at the two goons. They quickly turn to each other and shrug and I feel my fists clench tight; “Now, motherfuckers!”
One turns and gives me a quick nod before he goes over and and starts to cut away the ropes holding Logan, who looks up at me with this wild grin on his face.
“I like this side of you, Doc.” He mumbles out, grimacing as he tries to grin.
“I’m working on it.” I toss him the cell-phone from my bag; “Now figure out how to call the cops while I save this piece of shit’s life.”
29
Logan
I don’t remember making the phone call at all, but I’m on the floor and barely conscious when they come for us. I’m aware of the flashing lights, the cops with guns drawn, and Javier’s two guys being shoved against a wall and cuffed. Medical personal swarm over Javier, who looks pale lying in a puddle of blood on the floor. But then they’re hooking him up to a respirator and loading him up onto a stretcher, and they’re not covering him with a sheet, so it looks like Quinn actually managed to stop the piece of shit from bleeding out.
I can’t pretend I’d have done the same in her shoes.
I peer up as another group of EMTs start to load me up onto a stretcher of my own. ‘Tallahassee Emergency Medical Response’ is says on the their jackets. I realize I’ve never been to Florida before, and the thought that this is my first trip here has me almost laughing and mumbling something about “beating the lines at Disneyworld” before I realize I might be in way worse shape than I even think I am. The world starts to fade a little at the corners as I trying to cling to consciousness, and suddenly I’m glancing wildly around, trying to look for her.
Quinn.
“Hey, hey; keep still, pal, don’t move aroun-”
“Quinn!” I’m pushing their hands away from me and struggling to sit up before my head swims and I drop back down to the stretcher with a grimace; Quinn.
But then she’s just there, leaning over me as as they wheel me out of the concrete room and into the steaming heat of the night as we wheel towards an ambulance. Her face is tight and there are tears in her eyes as she clutches at my hands.
“I thought we said no hospitals?” I mumble out, trying to grin and hoping it doesn’t look too horrible with the state I’m sure my face is in right then.
But she’s choking out a laugh; “You used up all my band-aids, dummy,” She says, the tears starting to run down her cheeks.
“Hey, hey, I’m gonna be fine you know.” I wince as the stretcher hits the side of the ambulance and the EMT guys lift me up and into the back.
Quinn starts to jump up after me, but one of them stops her; “Ma’am, I’m sorry bu-”
“I’m his Doctor, and I’m coming with him.” Her voice is bold, firm, and demonstrably confident in a way I realize I’ve never actually heard from her before, and the thought makes me smile.
The EMT nods curtly; “Of course, Doctor,” he says, stepping aside and letting her into the ambulance.
“You’re completely nuts, you know that, right Doc?” I mumble out, grimacing as I try to smile at her through my bruised up face as she slides next to me and takes my hand.
“I love you; you know know that, right Marine?”
The words hit me harder than any punch ever has, and the lasting glow exploding through my body better than any win, better than any adrenaline high I’ve ever had. Her hand squeezes mine and it feels like the whole world is just dropping away into the background, leaving just me and her, and nothing else
matters.
“I love you too, darlin.”
She sniffs back a tear, and then she’s cupping my face gently in her hand as she kisses me. And I know it should hurt, and I know I should be in pain right now.
But then again, it seems I’m not very good at doing what I should when it comes to her.
30
Quinn
The aftermath of Florida was actually less messy than you would’ve thought. Especially so when you considering the implications of a plane from Cuba landing without authorization outside Tallahassee, of Logan refusing to tell anyone in the hospital his name, and with me almost killing someone. And the cleanup from all of that was thanks to someone I’d have thought as possibly the most unlikely candidate in the world.
If anyone could’ve taken a picture of my face when Peyton walked into that E.R. room in Florida, it probably would’ve broken the camera. I remember glaring at her, my jealousy bubbling to the surface even with everything that’d just happened, including the “I love you” part.
But she didn’t seem to bat an eye, and suddenly cold-shoulder, schedule-stickler, frosty Peyton was marching right up to me in the waiting room and throwing her arms around me in a big hug.
Uh, what?
“He hasn’t told you about us, has he.”
It’s a statement more than a question, and part of me wants to smack that little smile she’s only half holding back off of her smug little twenty-year old mouth. I purse my lips, my jaw tensing and my eyes narrowing at her; “No, he hasn’t.” I say evenly, arching a brow at her; “And look, I really don’t actually need to know-”
“Quinn,” She cuts me off as she cocks her head at me; “He’s my brother.”