Noble Prince (Twisted Royals, #4)

by Sidney Bristol

  He might not sing or dance, and he might be about the biggest well-meaning bully she’d ever met, but...Quinn liked him. She liked that he pushed her, he didn’t try to coddle her, he supported her. They were both people who’d followed their passions, his just went somewhere.

  “Tomorrow, we can set up a better workspace. There’s a folding table in the hall closet.” He stroked her back, toying with the ends of her hair here and there.

  “I can’t work on your dining table.”

  “Sure you can. We could put a tarp over it. Plastic sheet?”

  “No, Owen, I shouldn’t work on it. That’s what got us into this mess, remember?”

  “If you stop working, whoever is behind this wins.”

  “And I could die.”

  “Not with me protecting you.”

  “Owen, you can’t stop working, just to protect me full-time.”

  “Technically, I’m still suspended with pay.”

  “That’s not going to last. You said yourself that you told your boss to fire you.”

  “I did.” He pressed his lips together and glanced away.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Owen...” She jabbed her finger at his ribs.

  “Hey—stop that.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Morgan asked me at the scene about some rumors about someone calling off the SWAT team from the Swan Palace.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Seems people are starting to realize someone was protecting the place. I mean, how does a brothel operate in the heart of Seattle with that much business happening under our noses and no one report it?” Owen stared at the floor without seeing it.

  This had to be hard on him. Owen was the guy who always did good. He wanted to make a difference, and now his hands were tied. She hated this for him.

  “Anyway, that’s not my problem anymore.” He patted her knee. “Here’s another thought, Duke has a garage. Would you be comfortable working there?”

  “Duke...”

  “Big guy, rides a motorcycle, played the Mulan prince?”

  “General. Mulan didn’t marry a prince, though she is included in the princess pantheon. I think his name was Ryuto...”

  “Maybe? I know Duke isn’t his real name, just what everyone calls him.”

  “Huh.”

  “He lets Levi work out of his shop. I bet Levi would be willing to share space with you.”

  “I don’t want to be in the way.”

  “I’ll ask. Worst thing that can happen? He says no, and I get to keep you here.”

  Quinn chewed her lip.

  This was it.

  She was going to trust him. It was completely against her nature to allow anyone to handle things for her, to help, but Owen hadn’t let her down once. Part of her didn’t want to give up on the battery project yet either. Because he was right, if she stopped, if she gave up, the bastards after her won.

  “Okay. Fine. But if he says no, I need to find somewhere else to do this.”

  “Deal.” Owen held up his pinky finger.

  “Deal.” She chuckled and hooked her finger with his.

  Where would she be without him?

  14.

  Owen hung up the phone and turned toward the sofa. For such a shitty day, things were turning out alright.

  “Duke and Levi both say they’d be more than happy to clean up a spot for you. I guess Duke’s down a guy anyway, so there’s space.” Owen slid his phone back onto the charging station.

  “Oh...” Quinn blinked at him, as though she hadn’t expected that.

  “Tomorrow we can load it up and take everything over there. Or I can, if you’d rather.” Owen would need to turn his mind toward finding a new job. Soon. He’d love to spend his time focused on Quinn and Kierra, but the realist in him was starting to clamor in the back of his head. If he got the severance package it would only last him so long.

  “Let’s see how tomorrow morning goes. Did Zach ever call about the laptop?” she asked.

  “No, he didn’t. He had something going on tonight with his nephew, so I’ll text him real fast.” He picked his phone back up and prayed that whatever revelations Zach had, he’d wait a while before dumping them in their laps.

  Quinn needed a break. Even if just for a few hours.

  She pushed up off the sofa and crossed to the coat rack. The house was a little chilly with the cool front blowing in, and he’d mostly turned the thermostat off since he’d been gone the week. Quinn slid her arms into her coat and turned toward him.

  Owen finished the text and hit send.

  He glanced up at Quinn, her frown setting off alarms.

  “What is it?” Owen put his phone down and crossed to Quinn’s side.

  “This was in my pocket...”

  She held out a slip of paper. Scrawled in black pen were a few lines of text.

  Officer King, everything comes at a price. You took from me, now I’ll take from you.

  “What does that mean?” Quinn asked.

  Owen stared at the paper, his mouth opening and closing.

  What the hell?

  “Where was this?” He grabbed a freezer bag sticking out of the drawer and held it out.

  “My pocket. Why?” She slid it into the bag.

  Chances were, whatever trace evidence was on the paper was contaminated, but he couldn’t risk it.

  “Owen—you’re scaring me.” Quinn’s voice was level, but her eyes begged him for comfort.

  This second attack was because of him.

  They’d assumed it was because of the key, the battery, or the home invasion. What if they had it completely wrong? He could have just brought her into the bulls eye.

  “I’m going to call Morgan and Wu. They’ll handle this.” Owen’s first responsibility had to be protecting Quinn. He wasn’t a detective anymore, this wasn’t his job, but it didn’t alleviate him of his responsibility.

  “Why would there be a note to you in my jacket?” Quinn’s voice rose.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. Quinn? Quinn, look at me.” He gripped her by the shoulders. “I put away a lot of bad guys. I won’t let anything happen to you, got it?”

  She practically shook in his arms.

  He pulled her in close and tucked her against his side.

  So much for taking it easy the rest of the night.

  He dialed Morgan’s number directly. It wasn’t proper procedure, but he didn’t give a fuck. Quinn was scared, someone had their sights on him, she’d been through a lot in a week.

  “King, getting into trouble?” Morgan asked.

  “I need you to come to my place, now.”

  “Uh-oh. Is this—”

  “Whoever attacked Quinn left a note in her coat pocket. For me.”

  “Be there in ten.”

  Owen hung up and wrapped his arms around Quinn.

  All he’d wanted to do was help her. Make things easier. Instead, had he put her in harm’s way?

  Neither of them spoke while they waited. He didn’t know what to say. He’d really fucked this one up.

  Headlights in the driveway alerted him to the arrival of the officers.

  “This is them.” He gave Quinn a squeeze, then let her go.

  Owen opened the door for Wu and Morgan before they reached the porch. The two officers walked in, faces as grim as Owen felt.

  “Where’s the note?” Morgan asked.

  “Over here on the counter.” Owen led them to the kitchen.

  “And this wasn’t in your pocket earlier?” Morgan turned toward Quinn.

  “I...don’t know. I was carrying my jacket out of the office, it was in my lap when everything happened. I just assumed the ambulance people must have taken it with them to the hospital. I put it back on, and that’s when I found the note in my pocket.” Quinn kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself, eyes wide.

  Wu stared pointedly at the side of Morgan’s head. Morgan continued to study the note, ignor
ing his partner.

  “I have to ask.” Morgan lifted his gaze to Owen. “You think this is about...?”

  “I don’t know.” Owen shrugged.

  “About what?” Quinn demanded.

  “Jax. Freya. That thing.” Owen glanced at Quinn.

  “Seriously?” Quinn covered her mouth.

  “People are starting to talk. Ask questions. Your name is coming up a lot.” Morgan tilted his head.

  Owen had to wonder what side of all this he was put on. The good side? Or the bad?

  “What do we do now?” Quinn asked.

  “We’ll bag this, take it in.” Morgan nodded at the note.

  “Did you make enemies with anyone specifically lately?” Wu asked.

  “Not that I can think of, no.” Owen had ticked off plenty of people, but to his knowledge they were all of the bad guy variety.

  “What about your partner? Word is, he threw you under the bus pretty hard,” Morgan said.

  “He did what he thought was right. It wasn’t personal.” Owen found it hard to believe his new partner was involved. The guy was a straight arrow, which was why when Owen had bent the rules to help Kade and then Jaxon, they hadn’t gotten along so well.

  “Did any cops come see you in the hospital?” Morgan asked Quinn.

  “No. The only people I saw besides the nurses and doctor were friends and people from work.” She hugged her arms tighter around herself.

  “Okay, then we have to assume the perp put the note in her pocket, which means...” Morgan grimaced.

  “Which means whoever did this to me, he did it intentionally. That’s what none of you are saying, right?” Quinn glanced between the three of them. “I’m not stupid. The man who attacked me at my home had a beard. The one today was clean shaven. Their voices were different. It wasn’t the same guy. If you’re talking about dirty cops, then this person knew I’d been attacked already. Right?”

  Morgan and Wu both found somewhere else to look.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry, Quinn. This was all my fault.” He hated that he was the one who’d put her in danger.

  “You didn’t make this person drug me. Scare me. Or leave me on the side of the road. They chose to do this to send a message. God, I wish you weren’t suspended. I wish you could—I don’t know. Do something.” Quinn fisted her hands, the lines of her face tight, angry.

  Owen swallowed.

  She didn’t mean it as a dig. He knew that, and yet her words stung. She was right, as a civilian he couldn’t do anything besides be there for her. The hunt for the perp was out of his hands. It was a new world order, and he wasn’t sure how to operate in it.

  “Right now, the best thing for Owen to do is to let us handle this. Don’t give the higher-ups any more reason to cut him loose,” Morgan said.

  “But I already—”

  “I don’t care what you agreed to, Owen.” Morgan held up his hand. “You’re a damn good cop. That’s got to mean something, or else what are we doing?”

  Both Morgan and Wu’s radios chirped, calling them away.

  “We’ll take this.” Morgan picked up the note. “Get some rest. We’ll have patrol do regular drive bys. Keep all the windows locked. You know the drill. Do you have a gun of your own?”

  “Yeah.” Owen didn’t like to think he’d need it, but clearly he did.

  “Keep it handy. Stay safe.” Morgan waved

  The two officers strode out the door, Owen locking up after them. He didn’t wait to see them out the driveway before he pulled the blinds and curtains. He went to every room in the front of the house, testing the catch and blocking out the rest of the world.

  Quinn paced back and forth, her about face’s sharp.

  “Quinn, I am so sorry...” Where did he even begin?

  “I’m angry,” she blurted, never once breaking stride.

  He was glad she’d moved from fear to anger, but they were just emotions. Quinn was a creature of thought. How she felt wouldn’t matter as much as what she thought, when the dust settled.

  “Things aren’t supposed to be this way.” She finally stopped, one hand braced on the counter, the other over her mouth.

  “I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m so sorry.” Owen didn’t know how to make this better, for her or him, so he stood there, wishing he could take the last week back. She hadn’t actually needed him.

  “Sorry? For what? For being a good person? For being good at your job? For giving a damn?”

  “For...uh...”

  Quinn walked straight into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing so tight he could hardly breathe.

  “This isn’t fair. It isn’t right,” she said into his shirt. “If I find out who did this I’m locking you in my basement so you can’t stop me.”

  “From what?” He couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I can sling a mean wrench.”

  He shouldn’t find her promise of violence endearing, but he did. Because if he ever found the bastard who’d broken into her home, he wouldn’t be wearing a badge and he wouldn’t be enforcing the law.

  Owen wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the crown of her head, then laid his cheek against her hair. She held on tight, as though she were determined to squeeze the life out of him.

  “Let’s sit down and talk this through.” He gave her one last squeeze, then took her hand.

  “What’s to talk through? They’ll find out who did this and then—well, I can’t tell you what happens then.” Her pronounced frown was more cute than intimidating. Threats of bodily harm shouldn’t be this endearing.

  Owen did his best not to laugh. This wasn’t the time to make light of things. He led her back to the sofa and sat on the cushions, the stress of the day wearing him down. Quinn needed no urging to settle in at his side, curling against him.

  This was the only bright spot. Being with Quinn.

  “What is there to discuss?” Quinn asked.

  “Everything. Everything we thought we knew is potentially incorrect.”

  “What do we know, then?” Quinn held up a finger. “Someone broke into my house and attacked me because they want a key. Probably a key that goes to a safety deposit box where we store my mother’s research journals.”

  “That’s like three things and you’re only giving it one finger?”

  “I’m being economical. I only have so many fingers. Two.” She added the second finger. “Someone attacked me on my way to the hardware store because they maybe wanted to send you a message? Three, we can’t trust all the cops. Am I missing anything?”

  “No. That about sums it up.” They certainly had a lot on their plates.

  “What can we actively do about any of this?” she asked.

  “Without some sort of proof, or a lead...nothing.”

  “Exactly. Good talk.”

  Owen chuckled. He should not find any of this funny, and yet it was.

  “Do you want to go to sleep?” he asked.

  “Not really. I mean, I’m tired, but I don’t think I can sleep.” She picked her head up off his chest. “If we’re going to talk about anything, should we talk about my stuff in your room?”

  “We can.” He set the remote down. “My room has the fewest windows. The way the backyard slopes, it would be hard for someone to get into the house through the bedroom. I’d sleep easier if you were there, in a spot that’s easier to defend.”

  “Wow.”

  “And then there’s also the part where I’d just like to have you in my bed.”

  “That’s what I was expecting you to say and you went all cop on me.”

  “Sorry, can’t really turn that part of me off.”

  “It’s okay, we just think differently.”

  “Is it okay I think about you in my bed?”

  Quinn seemed to consider it for a moment before answering, “Yes.”

  “Had to think about that one extra hard, huh?” He chuckled again.

  “Weighing all my options.” One corner of Quinn’s mou
th quirked up.

  “Oh, yeah? Do you have options I don’t know about?”

  “There’s never just one way of solving a problem.”

  “Is that what I am? A problem?”

  “You were.” She tilted her head to the side, some of the humor evaporating. She stared at him as though she were seeing his soul. “And then you started being part of the solution. Things change.”

  “Is that a change you like?”

  “I didn’t think I would, but I do.”

  “Good. I like being part of your solution.” He squeezed her hand still in his.

  Quinn leaned toward him. He didn’t move. She was the one who’d been through hell today, she got to call the shots. He wouldn’t push for anything she didn’t want. She splayed her free hand against his chest, her eyes on his mouth.

  “Is it weird I have this completely outlandish urge to jump your bones right now?” she asked.

  Owen might have laughed, except he’d spent much of the day trying to not think about last night. How she’d felt.

  “No, it’s pretty common.” He settled his other hand at the curve of her waist. She was practically sitting in his lap. “Your life was threatened. It’s only natural to have urges that reaffirm you’re alive.”

  “I’d like to reaffirm that whole alive thing. If you’re up for it?”

  “I’m always up for reaffirming you’re alive.”

  “Is that what we’re calling this now?” Quinn slid her leg over his until she straddled his lap. Her smile and the snickering laugh were the next best thing to waking up with her that morning. “This went to a silly place. I don’t know if I can be serious now.”

  “Affirming life doesn’t have to be serious business.” He sat up, scooting forward and closing the distance between their bodies.

  Quinn slid her arms around his neck. Their noses bumped.

  She was alive. She was there. She didn’t hate him.

  There was so much to be grateful for, he didn’t know where to begin.

  Quinn brushed her lips to his, soft, exploratory caresses.

  He slid his hands up into her hair, cupping the back of her head.

  Owen could have lost her today. The kind of people who had a beef with him, they might not hesitate at killing. What if she’d died? What then?

  Quinn and Kierra had become part of his life. They owned chunks of his soul. How it’d happened or when, he wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. He was falling in love with Quinn Schaeffer, and he didn’t care. So long as she was alive and safe. Which meant, he needed to do everything in his power to speed up the firing process. The quicker he was on his own, the sooner the pressure would be off him, and Quinn would be safe.