No Going Back (Revolving Door Book 3)

by Dani Matthews

  I take the phone and sit on the messy bed, calling Bryce’s cell phone. I put it on speaker, and he picks up on the fourth ring. “Colt,” he greets, sounding distracted.

  “It’s Quinn,” I tell him. “Is this a bad time?”

  The sound of shuffling papers can be heard through the phone. “No, just catching up on never-ending paperwork. Did you think of something else?” he asks, referring to our earlier conversation.

  I begin to explain my idea for Friday night, and he silently listens. “What do you think?” I ask when I’m finished.

  Bryce is quiet a moment. “I think it’s a sound plan, but it could backfire,” he warns.

  “How?” Colt immediately asks.

  “Every time she goes out, he reacts. If I don’t nail him that night, there will likely be consequences,” he explains.

  Colt looks at me, doubt filling his gaze. “He’s right.”

  I frown. “But what if you catch him?” I ask Bryce. “The possibility is there, right?”

  “It’s possible,” he agrees. “But I’d have to bring in someone else as backup to keep an eye on the outer perimeter. Brad would probably be willing to step in and help,” he says, referring to one of the other detectives that he works with.

  I turn back to Colt. “I think it’s our best option at this point,” I say lowly.

  He studies me, looking grim. “Do you think it’s worth the risk of pissing this guy off further?” he asks loudly, directing his question to Bryce.

  We hear him sigh across the phone. “I think it’s better than waiting around for his next move.”

  I eye Colt, waiting to see what he’ll say next.

  “If you’re on board with this, we are too,” Colt announces, making the final decision.

  Twenty-one

  Quinn

  As much as I want to let loose and have fun, I find it difficult. My eyes scan the large group of friends that have converged at the pool hall to help the twins celebrate. Everyone’s been hanging around the tables, drinking, and exchanging banter.

  Gabe and Channing seem to be enjoying themselves, though I can tell that they’re holding back a little. For one, they’re still not supporting Colt and me. Secondly, they’re fully aware that Bryce is here not only to help them celebrate, but he’s also present in an official capacity to catch Slade. Outside somewhere, Brad is watching for anyone suspicious.

  My eyes shift to where Colt’s shooting pool with Bryce, Rem, and Gabe’s partner, Kieran. As if feeling my eyes on him, his head turns, and his hazel eyes snag mine. We’d decided to lay low tonight, knowing that if we acted like we’re dating, there’d be tons of questions from the others. Tonight, we want the focus to be on the twins.

  So here I am, sitting at a table near the windows with Ash and Harper instead of lingering by Colt. Now that he’s really mine, I never want to let him go, and my fingers are itching to touch him.

  Colt’s eyes drag away from mine as Rem slaps him on the shoulder, signaling that it’s his turn. He turns his back to our table, and as he lines up a shot, I admire his fine ass in those jeans.

  Harper snickers from beside me. “You have to stop watching him like you want to devour him.”

  I turn back to find her and Ash watching me with amusement. I shrug and reach for my soda—not really in the mindset to do any real drinking. “I do want to devour him,” I muse.

  Harper grins and squeezes my arm affectionately. “I’m so happy for you both.”

  I smile wryly. “Now if only Channing and Gabe can get on board with it.”

  Her smile fades. “It’s going to take some time.”

  “When Channing realizes you both are honestly trying to make a go of it, he’ll come around,” Ash adds.

  Harper’s eyes follow someone, and I turn and watch as Bryce excuses himself and heads for the restrooms. Even from here, I can tell he’s making note of every single person in the busy establishment. She looks at me, her eyes serious. “I really hope they grab Slade tonight.”

  “Me too, but it’s not going to be easy. Like Bryce said, all they can do is watch for someone who’s very focused on our group, or someone lingering outside. As much as I’m hoping they catch him, I know there’s a good chance they won’t.” I look around, scanning all the faces in the large room. “There’s just so many people here.” This is supposed to be a celebration, so I switch the topic to Ash. “Did you decide to get Channing anything?” I ask curiously.

  A slow smile curves her lips. “I got him a little something, but he won’t get it until later.”

  I grin, already sensing her gift likely involves sex, and maybe a little show for Channing. Ash used to be an exotic dancer before she began working at the salon.

  The evening drags on without any suspicious activity, and I find myself disappointed. Slade has to be out there somewhere. When it’s time to leave, Bryce pulls me aside to inform me that Brad hadn’t seen anyone resembling Slade’s description, and no one was acting suspicious. He gives me a stern warning to watch my back, and then I ride home with Colt.

  When we enter the house, he catches my arm, keeping me in the living room as Ash and Channing pass us on their way to the stairs. “This is where I’m going to say goodnight,” he says lowly.

  A frown tugs across my lips. “I thought we’d spend some time together.” I was fully expecting sex tonight.

  “It’s their birthday, let’s not ruin it.”

  He has a point, and I nod with disappointment.

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “I’m going to hold you to it,” I warn him.

  He gives me a sexy grin, his expression telling me that he fully intends to pay up.

  ***

  The weekend turned out to be uneventful, much to everyone’s surprise. We’d all been tense, waiting for Slade to vandalize my car, or even the house, but all was quiet. Each morning, Colt would check the motion sensor camera that he’d installed. It faces the house and garage, and when it senses motion, it begins recording. The camera hadn’t been triggered, and I hadn’t received any phone calls from Slade. It’s odd, and I know Colt’s unsettled by it.

  “I think you should ride with me today,” Ash comments. We’re sitting at the island, eating breakfast Monday morning. Harper isn’t up yet, or if she is, Gabe’s keeping her busy.

  “Why?”

  Ash’s eyebrow lifts as if I’d asked a pointless question.

  “I’m not going to leave my car here all day,” I tell her.

  She looks at me worriedly. “You have no idea what Slade is up to. He’s gone after your car a few times now.”

  “I’ll be fine driving myself.”

  Colt enters the kitchen, catching the very end of our conversation. “I think Ash is right.”

  I’m momentarily thrown back to this morning when I’d given him head while we were in the shower. I struggle to push aside the memory and give him a firm look. “I’m not leaving my car.”

  Colt moves to stand before me, his arms crossed, legs planted firmly on the floor. His expression is unrelenting as he says, “He’s up to something, and I think he’s done being predictable.”

  “Then he’ll leave my car alone.”

  “I can follow her instead,” Ash offers.

  I sigh inwardly, knowing I’m not going to win this battle. “I guess I can handle that,” I grumble.

  Colt nods. “I’ll try to be here when you guys get home.”

  “Gabe will be for sure, he has the day off,” Ash tells him.

  We finish our breakfast, and then we wait for Colt to inspect my car, and then just to be precautious, he looks over Ash’s before giving us the okay to leave.

  I hate that this is my new reality, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. As much as I hate to admit it, the next move is Slade’s, and he’s dragging it out to keep me on edge. As I drive, I begin to wonder what his next move might be. So far, everything he’s done has been harmless to me. Nothing has directly affected me physically, but Bryc
e seems to think that’s about to change.

  I rub my temple as I stop for a red light. My life would be perfect right now if it weren’t for Slade.

  When I reach the salon, I turn into the employee parking lot, and Ash pulls her car into the space next to mine. We both walk to the back door and enter the building without any issues. While she goes up front to prepare for the day, I walk to my booth and begin readying everything. The other hairstylists have arrived, and we’re all settling into our usual routines.

  When I see Ash approaching, I stop what I’m doing. She looks uneasy as she holds out a manila envelope the size of a five-by-seven. “I found this beneath the front entrance door,” she explains. From here, I can see my name written on the front in bold letters.

  Slade strikes again.

  The phone up front begins to ring, and I accept the envelope. Ash hesitates, obviously not wanting to leave me, but then she turns and hurries off to the front.

  Whatever Slade had left for me is going to be disturbing, so I leave the main room and slip into the women’s restroom. There’s three stalls, and I walk to the middle one and step inside, locking it for privacy.

  The envelope is mostly flat, so whatever he’d sent me is either a single sheet of paper that happens to be folded, or it’s a photo. My guess is a photo, because I can feel its ridges through the paper. I carefully open the back of the envelope and reluctantly shake the contents out into my palm.

  It’s a colored photo.

  I’m confused for a moment until it sinks in what I’m looking at. It’s a polaroid picture of a young woman, possibly a little younger than myself. She’s kneeling on a bare mattress, her hands secured behind her back while whomever had taken the photo looms above her. She’s wearing nothing but lingerie, and her skin is covered in blood. Dark blue hair is matted to her head, and a gag covers her mouth. The wide blue eyes that stare back at me are full of terror, and my stomach turns over.

  Oh my God.

  Had Slade gone after someone else? Why send me the photo? Goosebumps rise on my arms, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Had he kidnapped her because of me?

  No! He wouldn’t… Or would he? I don’t know what he’s capable of or how far he’s willing to go. This photo proves that he’s beyond stalking games. My eyes anxiously roam over the picture, taking in the woman’s blue hair once more. Shit. Is she a stand-in for me in some way? We look nothing alike, though. She looks taller and thicker, her cheeks fuller. The only thing we have in common is our preference for vibrant shades of hair color.

  The fear in her eyes tugs at me.

  I need to take this to Bryce—immediately. I can’t continue working my shift knowing that Slade has gone after someone else. There’s a chance that the police might be able to track her down before he hurts her further. I quickly shove the photo back in the envelope and hurry out to the front desk.

  Customers are beginning to arrive, and I impatiently wait for Ash to finish with the woman she’s checking in. As soon as she’s finished and the woman walks away to take a seat, she turns to me, her eyes questioning.

  “I need you to cancel my morning appointments, possibly my afternoon as well. I’ll let you know as soon as I know for certain,” I tell her, keeping my voice low.

  She looks at me with alarm. “What’s going on?”

  I shake my head. “I’ll explain later. Just tell my clients I have a family emergency.”

  “You’re not supposed to go anywhere alone,” she protests.

  “I’m going to the police department.”

  She slowly nods. “Okay. Be careful.”

  “I will,” I promise. I feel bad leaving like this, but a woman’s life depends on it.

  I hurriedly make my way to the back of the building and slip out the exit. A minute later, I’m in my car and on my way to the police department. How can Slade have time to kidnap someone else while still stalking me? It doesn’t make sense. If he wants to kidnap someone, wouldn’t it be me? Not that I’m complaining. At this point, I no longer want a confrontation with him. I just want him out of my life so that I can focus all my attention on Colt.

  I worry my bottom lip with my teeth as I wait for a light to change. Slade sent the photo to me for a reason, and I’m certain that I’m playing right into his hands. He wants me to panic, and wouldn’t he expect me to take the photo to the police? Isn’t he worried about being caught? What the hell is he up to?

  It’s not long before I’m pulling into the police department. After I park my car, I grab my purse and climb out. As I enter the building, I wonder if maybe I should have called first.

  The department is already bustling with activity, and I wait my turn at the front desk. When the officer looks at me expectantly, I ask if I could speak with Detective Banning. Once he has my name, he turns away and calls Bryce. He hangs up the phone a minute later and comes back to me. “He’ll be with you shortly.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur. I move out of the way of the person waiting behind me, and I take a seat in one of the chairs situated along the opposite wall. I’m nervous, and irritated that I’d bailed on my clients, but this couldn’t wait. One stupid decision has completely turned my life upside down.

  Bryce approaches me a few minutes later, his expression concerned. “Everything okay, Quinn?”

  I stand, shaking my head. “He sent me something. It’s bad, Bryce,” I warn him.

  His eyes sharpen. “Follow me.”

  He leads me through the building until we reach the homicide division. It’s a large room with plenty of desks strategically placed around the room. He guides me to his, which is located near a window. There are two chairs across from his desk, and I take a seat, looking around curiously. We aren’t the only ones in the room, and the other detectives are either on their phones or typing on their computer keyboards.

  Bryce takes a seat behind his desk, pushing aside files as he looks at me expectantly. “He sent something to the house?”

  I open my purse and dig out the envelope, holding it out to him. “No. Ash found it beneath the main door at the salon.”

  He studies the envelope before shifting and rummaging through one of his desk drawers. He slips on a pair of latex gloves, and after accepting the envelope, he takes a moment to examine the outside. His eyes lift to mine. “Who’s been in contact with this?”

  “Just Ash. And myself.”

  He nods and carefully opens the envelope, tilting it to allow the contents to slide out into his palm. He frowns when he sees the polaroid, and he sets the envelope down to concentrate on the photo. His expression turns grim, and he turns it over to peer at the back, looking for writing.

  “Nothing else came with it,” I inform him.

  His eyes search mine. “Do you recognize her?”

  I shake my head. “I have no idea who she is.”

  He falls silent as he studies the photo once more.

  “Is it real?” I can’t help but ask.

  He sets the photo down on top of the envelope. “Yeah, I think it is.”

  “But why? Why go after someone else? Why not me? Why send me the photo?”

  Bryce digs around in the desk drawer, pulling out a clear bag. “I don’t know,” he says honestly, slipping the photo and envelope into the bag and sealing it. “There could be plenty of reasons, and all we can do is play guessing games to figure out where his mind is at.” He takes off the gloves, scooting back his chair and tossing them into the small garbage near the side of his desk. Then, he turns back to me. “This proves he’s very dangerous. That’s a polaroid, so it isn’t a photo he copied off the internet. It was risky sending it to you.”

  “Why do you think he did it?”

  “My guess is you’re not scared enough, which means you’re not making any of this easy for him. It’s likely pissing him off.”

  “Good,” I say, my lip curling with relish.

  “Wrong,” Bryce corrects. “We now have a victim to search for.”

 
My heart sinks, and a lump begins to form in my throat. “That photo, it’s my fault, isn’t it?”

  “No, Quinn,” he says in a firm voice. “He’s going to do what he wants, regardless of your actions.”

  “But I went out Friday…”

  “I don’t think she was a spur of the moment kidnapping. The blue hair, the dried blood and worn look to her…under garments. I doubt this all happened in the past twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Everything he does seems well thought out, so he was probably tracking her for a while. Blue hair isn’t all that common, he had to hunt for someone that reminded him of you.”

  I feel sick. “He took her because of me.”

  “You can’t think that way, Quinn,” he says as his tone gentles.

  I look at him with guilt-ridden eyes. “How else am I supposed to think, Bryce?”

  “You have no control over what he does,” he reminds. “You need to remember that.”

  “How are you going to find her?”

  “I’ll check the missing persons reports from the past few weeks. If that comes up with nothing, I’ll see if we can get a hit with our facial recognition program. I’ll also have the envelope and photo checked for fingerprints.”

  I nod, feeling a little better knowing that there’s something he can do to help find the woman. “What do I do in the meantime?”

  “Same as before, don’t go anywhere alone.”

  “Should I go back to the salon?”

  His eyes soften. “It’d help take your mind off all this, so I think it’s a wise idea. I’ll follow you, just to make certain you get there safely.”

  “Will you let me know if you find anything?”

  “Absolutely. The more knowledge you have, the better, Quinn. I’m not going to keep anything from you.”

  I look at him curiously. “If you didn’t know me personally, would you keep me in the dark?”

  He smiles. “It would depend on the circumstances.” He rises from his desk. “Ready?”

  Bryce follows me to the salon and kindly waits in the parking lot until I’m safely inside. For the rest of my shift, Ash looks at me curiously every so often, but the salon is busy, and I don’t get the chance to fill her in.