by A. E. Neal
Will helped Quinn to her feet as she wrapped her arms around his massive body and squeezed.
"Thank you. I'm pretty sure you just saved my life."
Will hesitated to return the hug, but gave her a gentle squeeze, which was actually more powerful than he thought.
"Ouch," she winced and quickly, Will released her.
"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"
"No, no. You just stepped on my toe with those big clunky boots you're wearing."
Will glanced down at his feet and shrugged. "Sorry."
* * *
After a hot cup of tea, a bath and a fresh set of clothes, Quinn padded into the kitchen where Will was intensely concentrating on his laptop screen.
"Any good porn I need to know about?"
Will chuckled. "No ma'am. I'm just looking over some intel I received about the group who attacked the Beckett Estate."
"Group? I only saw two of them."
"Seven, to be exact."
"Did the other guys make it out okay?"
Will shrugged and Quinn knew right away the outcome of his fellow team members was a grim one.
"I'm sorry, Will," she said giving his forearm a light squeeze.
As he scanned the laptop screen, he scowled, "Fuck. I can't believe I used to trust that asshole."
Quinn glanced over his shoulder at the screen. A picture of two men in Army fatigues, stood smiling with their arms around each other.
"You were friends?"
Will nodded, closed the laptop and pushed it away as if it were diseased. Quinn wanted to know more, but was afraid to ask, since Will had never been keen on sharing his private life.
Will stood, then slammed the chair into the kitchen table and grabbed his gun off the counter.
"Stay here. Don't leave. Do you understand?" he snapped, pulling his jacket from the coat hook by the door, then glanced back at her.
Quinn held her hands up. "Not going anywhere. Promise."
"Good. I'll be back in an hour." Will stepped through the door and slammed it shut behind him.
As soon as his footsteps quieted in the hallway, Quinn began searching for her cell phone. She rummaged through drawers in the kitchen, looked high and low throughout the entire apartment, but came up empty handed.
She didn't dare leave the apartment, knowing Will probably had security cameras watching her every move. After all she'd been through during the last forty-eight hours, something inside her snapped and she wanted answers.
Remembering the emergency phone line outside the elevators, gave her an idea. She made mental notes of all the cameras inside the apartment, noting that there wasn't one in the bedroom or either bathroom. The guest bath was located near the foyer and boasted a large frosted window that looked over the city.
"Perfect," she whispered as she closed the door behind her, locking it.
She traced the window frame with her fingertips, searching for a leaver or a lock. She felt something resembling a lock near the top of the frame and she gripped it with her fingernails as she attempted to slide it open. Moments later, it slid open and the window creaked as it was released.
Quinn pushed the glass as far as she could manage and hopped onto the back of the toilet for leverage. She looked out over the ledge, noting there wasn't much to hold onto, but when and if she did make it, the terrace was only a few feet from the window.
She shimmied her body through the opening carefully as she reached out to grip the bricks above her head that would hopefully guide her to the terrace. Using all of her upper body strength, she held the brick ledge and steadied her legs against the cold building.
Inch by inch she moved carefully along the wall until she reached the terrace. Lifting one leg at a time over the metal railing, she finally found her feet firmly planted on the ground.
"Thank God," she whispered under her breath as her heart raced in her chest.
Chapter 31
Quinn reached the terrace door that connected to Jaysen's office and smiled. She was almost home free, she thought as she wiggled the door handle, praying it wasn't locked.
The handle turned without falter and she pushed it open slowly as she eyed the office for more cameras. She spotted one at the far end of the room rotating back and forth. She knew there was a phone on Lisa's desk, but didn't want to be seen by the camera. Once she was out of view, she dashed past Lisa's desk, and headed for the bank of elevators at the end of the foyer.
Out of breath and feeling like she'd just committed a heinous crime, Quinn steadied herself against the wall with one hand and pried the emergency call box open with the other. Not knowing how she mustered up super human strength, she bent the metal door back revealing the red telephone inside.
She lifted the receiver, listened for a dial tone, then punched in the only number she could think of.
After a few rings, a familiar male voice answered and Quinn was finally able to catch her breath.
"Hello?"
"Jaysen?"
"Quinn? What the hell are you doing calling me? Where's Will?"
"Jaysen, please calm down—"
"I can't talk to you, Quinn. I'm hanging up right now—"
"Wait! Tell me what the fuck is going on!" she shouted.
"Not right now. I have to go. Everything will be alright, I promise," he said and the line went dead.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jaysen Beckett," she snapped and slammed the phone back into the metal box.
Tears welled in her eyes. He sounded like he was alone and if that was true, why wouldn't he want to talk to her? She wanted to trust him, but she also had a feeling in her gut that he wasn't quite the man she thought he was all along. Something was off and she knew it.
"I need to get the fuck out of here," she muttered under her breath as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
Without thinking twice, she swung open the heavy metal door that led to the stairwell and began the long decent to the ground floor.
After six flights of stairs, she wished she had a better pair of shoes, since the blisters on the pads of her feet hadn't quite healed since her barefoot trek through the snow.
Quinn finally reached the ground floor, opening the door carefully she peered out to make sure no one was around. She decided the coast was clear and ran towards the revolving door that led outside, only to realize it too was locked and she didn't have the security code to open it.
Retreating back to the stairwell, she continued down another flight of stairs, hoping the parking garage was still open.
The chill of the late afternoon air hit her all at once as soon as she opened the door. The garage smelled like stale fuel and cigarettes. Fresh cigarette smoke. She also knew Will didn't smoke. Panicked, she scanned the garage carefully, looking for a sign of anyone who could have been there just a few seconds before.
Careful not to walk too close to any of the parked cars, she headed towards the entrance, checking her surroundings every step of the way. The sound of boots shuffling across the concrete behind her caused her to duck behind one of the parked cars. The footsteps slowed as they got closer to her and Quinn lowered herself to the ground quietly.
"Quinn? I know you're here. Make my job easier and come out from behind the car please," Will said sternly.
Quinn weighed her options, knowing there was no way in hell he would ever let her leave without a fight, since he'd proven that before. She rose to her feet and stepped out from behind the car, coming face to face with the barrel of Will's handgun. Instinctively, she raised her hands above her head and walked towards him carefully.
Will lowered his gun and grasped her arm, pulling her back against his chest.
"Don't say a word," he cautioned as he guided her back towards the elevator.
Once they were inside, he tucked his gun in its holster and released her arm.
"What the hell were you thinking? Did I not express to you the importance of staying put earlier?"
Quinn shrugged like a defiant child, knowin
g he would never leave her alone again.
"Sorry."
"You're sorry? That's it? Sorry is all you have to say?" he grumbled as the elevator ascended.
She turned to face him, embarrassed and ashamed. "I want to know what the fuck is going on, Will. And right now I don't really give a rat's ass if you lose your job or not, okay?"
"Mr. Beckett informed me that you tried to contact him. Is that true?"
"You know it is or you wouldn't be asking."
Quinn felt her cheeks flush as she grew angrier with Will's lack of communication.
"Where'd you think you'd go once you got out there? Your apartment is under surveillance and there are about a dozen hit men looking for you. My intel tells me there's a two million dollar price tag on your head right now if you're captured dead or alive."
Quinn gasped. "Two million? But why? I don't understand. What the hell does any of this have to do with me?" Will cleared his throat and shook his head, looking more distraught than ever. "What is it? Why me?"
The elevator door chimed, indicating they had reached their floor and as the doors opened, Quinn glanced back at Will who's eyes were filled with terror and pain.
She stepped out into the foyer and waited for him to exit behind her. He guided her down the corridor that lead to Jaysen's apartment, then using the pin pad next to the door, he entered a series of numbers and the lock clicked. He opened the door and ushered her inside.
"Sit," he ordered.
Quinn took a seat at the dining room table as Will paced back and forth in front of her.
"I'm going to confide in you and I expect you to keep what I tell you to yourself."
Quinn nodded and clasped her hands together on top of the table.
"Jaysen has obviously kept a very successful business alive. If it weren't for his father getting mixed up in...other things, I'm sure none of this would have ever happened. The men you saw in Wyoming are only a small piece of the mess his father created. The man you saw in the photo with me earlier was Tate, my First Sergeant while we were touring Iraq. Once our tour-of-duty was complete, we returned to Denver together. Tate was hired as Jaysen's father's personal security officer and was given full access to hire whom ever he wanted on his team. That's where I came in. Our first year of security detail was pretty normal: we accompanied him to parties, galas, charity events, etcetera. When Jaysen was fifteen, his father took him to their cabin in Jackson Hole for a few weeks during the summer. Jaysen began hanging around the daughter of one of Mr. Beckett's clients who owed him a ton of money," he said.
"I know how this story ends. Mr. Beckett's men raped and murdered Shelly because of the debt her father owed," Quinn added.
"There's a bit more to it. Tate was secretly sleeping with Shelly and found out that Mr. Beckett planned to use her as collateral to settle the debt Shelly's father owed him. Tate attacked Mr. Beckett and in the midst of his rage, he accidentally hit her with the butt of his gun so hard, she died instantly. Mr. Beckett did everything in his power to cover it up, but a few months went by and her body was found. Tate quit working for Mr. Beckett the day he died, but due to a loop hole in Beckett's will, he continued to receive a check for ten thousand dollars every month. When Jaysen took over the company, he found out about the loop hole and simply put an end to it. Now Tate wants the money he was promised by Mr. Beckett and that's why Jaysen's life is in danger."
Quinn put her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. "Jesus Christ. But I still don't understand what any of this has to do with me?"
It was as if she'd answered her own question the moment she'd let the words leave her mouth.
"Oh. God," Quinn gasped.
"By kidnapping you, he'd hit Jaysen where it hurts the most and in turn, he'd have enough money to get himself out of the country."
"But he's dead," Quinn added.
"Yes."
"Then why is there still a price tag on my head? Why haven't they realized they're not going to get the money?"
"They'll get their money and this whole thing will be over, once and for all, but..." he paused as he ran his hand over his crew cut and shrugged. "They've taken Jaysen as collateral."
Quinn's eyes grew wide. "But why? I don't understand. Tate is dead, there's no one running the show. Who's behind it?"
Will cleared his throat, pulling the chair next to Quinn out from under the table and sat down.
"We have reason to believe the men who took Jaysen are working for someone in LA, Tate's partner. Someone who was handling his finances and business transactions. Someone with influential connections, like celebrities and politicians. We don't have his identity yet. My team was working on it when the house was ambushed, we lost everything."
"Didn't you keep encrypted back-up files stored somewhere else? I mean, Jaysen does run one of the safest investment firms in the nation, you'd think with all that time, money and software, someone would have been able to come up with something," Quinn babbled as her nervousness took over.
"Yes. But Jaysen is the only one with access."
"You guys really didn't think this through, did you?" she huffed.
Will rose from the table, pulled out his cell phone and held a finger up to quiet Quinn.
Chapter 32
Will's conversation with the men holding Jaysen for ransom was brief. They wanted two million dollars in exchange for Jaysen's life and if they didn't get exactly what they wanted, Quinn would become their next target. Will set up a meeting that coincided with Quinn's business trip to LA.
"We leave first thing tomorrow morning. I've already upgraded our seats to first class and booked a room next to yours at the hotel. Once you're done with your meeting, we'll drive to the rendezvous point and retrieve Mr. Beckett."
"I don't think I can do this. I mean, how am I supposed to go on with my meeting with all this shit on my plate. What if they don't accept your offer? What if they kill him? What if they kill me?"
"They won't."
"But how do you know exactly?" Quinn's heart raced as she went over each possible scenario in her mind. All of which ended up leaving someone dead.
"I will keep you safe, Quinn. I've given Mr. Beckett my word on that. Under no circumstances will I ever put you in harm's way. Do you understand?"
She understood what he was saying, but she couldn't comprehend the hidden meaning behind Will's words. Was he saying he'd let Jaysen die to keep her safe?
* * *
At five o'clock Monday morning, the alarm clock next to Jaysen's bed went off. Instead of Manic Monday blaring through the speakers, ironically, Gravedigger by Dave Mathews Band played and Quinn instantly wanted to cover her head, go back to sleep and pretend she was imagining the nightmare she was currently living in.
She knocked the alarm clock to the floor, which startled Will, who was asleep on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. He hadn't left the room all night and even awoke when she got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.
"Sorry," she grumbled and fell back against the fluffy pillows.
"Did you sleep okay?" he asked.
"Not really, but I'll survive."
Truth was, Quinn had tossed and turned all night and when she finally did get to sleep, her dreams were clouded with death and hopelessness.
Will was on his feet, folding the comforter and blankets he had used to sleep on, setting them on the edge of the bed.
"Should I make coffee?" he asked.
"Uh-huh," she grumbled as she threw back the blankets, exposing her bare legs to the cool air in the bedroom.
After two cups of coffee, pancakes and some bacon, Quinn packed her bag with all the new things Jaysen had bought for her. She took a quick shower, dried her hair and dressed in her new grey pantsuit, then searched for a pair of shoes that wouldn't hurt her feet too bad.
She slung her bag over her shoulder and met Will in the kitchen.
"Let me get that for you," he offered, but she gripped the strap.
"I've got it. I'm capa
ble."
"You're not really a morning person are you?"
"What gave it away? My violent alarm clock toss or my half-asleep bitchy attitude?"
"Both," he laughed and Quinn just rolled her eyes.
* * *
They arrived at Denver International Airport an hour before their flight was scheduled to leave. Will had to leave his gun at the apartment, but assured Quinn that he had another once they landed in LA.
In an effort to kill time, Quinn browsed the bookstore, picking up a few magazines and a bag of gummy bears. It was the first time she'd been out of Will's sight for more than five minutes during the last few days and she was enjoying every second of it. No one would attempt to kidnap or kill her in an airport full of people, right? Panic set in once again and she quickly paid the cashier, then returned to where Will was sitting near their gate.
"I thought you might need this," he said as he held out her phone. "I added my number to your contacts too. Just in case you need anything."
Quinn took her phone and tucked it into her bag. "Thanks, Will. I'm glad you trust me again."
"I don't, but I would hate if anything happened to you because you couldn't call me in the event of an emergency."
"Well, I still appreciate it," she said.
The pre-boarding announcement had been made and Quinn dug frantically through her bag, searching for her new prescription, before remembering she'd left it at the cabin in Jackson Hole.
"Shit," she muttered, tearing through the bag like she had a vendetta against it.
"What's wrong?"
"I forgot my pills."
Will reached into his bag and pulled out a familiar orange bottle with a white lid and handed them to her.
"They're mine, but you can have one. I don't like flying either."
Quinn chuckled at Will's comment. "Uh-oh, Mr. Big-and-tough is scared of airplanes," she teased.