“Not that far,” Jace muttered.
“Besides, at the moment his public image is safe, but it doesn’t have to stay that way. He strikes me as the kind all wrapped up in appearances. He’s worked hard to project the idea of an affluent, influential, clean business man.”
Something dark crossed her face, a combination of anger and loathing. “He made damn sure to mark Caroline only where no one else would see.” Her soft eyes rose to his, churning and resolute. “The bruises are bad enough. But she has burn scars across her stomach. And faint lines I’m almost sure are from him cutting her.”
Spinning away, Jace shoved a hand through his hair. It was either that or slam it into the wall and he didn’t want to have to repair the drywall. “You aren’t helping me feel better here, Quinn.”
“No, he’s methodical and calculating. Polished and perfect. Yes, he’s angry he lost his toy—”
“You took her and know exactly where he can find her.”
“—but coming after me will only make matters worse. He isn’t going to do that. He was throwing his weight around this afternoon because he could. Bluffing in the hope that I’d cave. That’s all. If anything, I expect him to call in favors from some well-placed friends to put pressure on Daniel.”
“Daniel won’t give in.” It wasn’t a question. He’d been listening to Quinn talk about her job—and her boss—for two years. He’d gleaned several things, including that Daniel was a decent, upstanding guy who cared a great deal about the work they did and the people they helped.
But that didn’t make this any less of a clusterfuck. He’d always worried about Quinn’s job. She dealt with terrible things all day long—the emotionally draining, permanently scarring kind—and he didn’t want that for her.
Unfortunately, she had a soft heart and a will of steel and wouldn’t listen to anyone suggesting she find another way to make a living.
Her parents had fostered kids...at least, until the car accident that had killed them both. She’d grown up dealing with these kinds of horror stories. It was natural that she’d want to continue their work. And she was good at it.
Tomorrow he was going to pay Daniel a little visit, find out what he was doing to protect her.
Although, he was smart enough to keep that plan to himself. Quinn would just try to talk him out of it and there was no reason to fight her on it...yet.
* * *
“THIS IS ABSURD.” Quinn blew a frustrated breath out of her mouth.
“You’re the only one who thinks so,” Daniel said.
Behind him, Jace had his arms crossed over that damn ripped chest. He tried to hide the smug smile teasing the corners of his mouth, but he couldn’t quite pull it off.
She wanted to be angry with him for interfering, and she was pretty irked, but she knew he was only doing this because he was worried about her.
What pissed her off more was that he’d done an end run around her, going to Daniel behind her back. She could fight Jace, but not him and her boss.
Frustration and irritation buzzed through her brain. She felt the familiar rise of emotions, like a relentless high tide trying to erode her better intentions. Sure, she could let loose and spew anger all over Daniel and Jace, but that would just make her feel like a jerk.
“I don’t have time to deal with this, Daniel, and you know it. My caseload is towering over me as it is.”
“No one is asking you to ignore your work, Quinn. There are enough people in the office that you should be fine. We’re more concerned with you being home alone at night.”
She could see their point. The problem was that their solution was more likely to cause problems than the man they were afraid of.
“I will not be chased out of my own home. Especially not without a creditable threat.”
Jace grunted, calling into question her statement with very little effort. She glared at him. He simply stared back, his clear blue eyes unwavering, until she couldn’t take the direct connection and had to look away.
At least she managed not to blush. Her pale, freckle-ridden skin was a curse.
This was stupid and pointless. But she’d already said that once, and they’d responded with the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head. Frustrating.
“I’ll be staying with Quinn.”
“You’ll be what?” Quinn squeaked. “Don’t you have, I don’t know, a job?” she asked, her voice full of sarcasm.
Jace’s mouth, already austere on a good day, pulled down into a frown. The dark line of his brows slammed together over a glare. No doubt the intimidating look was exactly what he used to keep the soldiers he trained in line.
Quinn had a feeling those men, given that expression, would jump to do whatever Jace Hyland wanted...right after wetting themselves. And it wasn’t like Jace trained wussies. He had the best of the best, the strongest of the strong and the most masculine of the masculine under his command.
“I’ve taken some leave.”
Okay, before she’d been miffed. Now she was royally pissed. “Because of this? Because of me?” God, she was going to hurt Warren—and then possibly Jace. This was getting blown out of proportion. Big time.
“No. I had this time off scheduled already for another reason.”
Well, wasn’t that just great. Why didn’t that make her feel any better?
The man was on vacation—probably the first one he’d taken in two years—and he was sitting here preparing to babysit her as if she was a shaky-legged toddler.
“Why the hell aren’t you on a sandy beach somewhere, then?”
He sucked in a breath. Quinn watched his chest expand and hold. She counted in her head, up to almost ninety before he let the breath go with a quiet rush that she felt deep inside.
“Not much on sand these days,” he said quietly.
And Quinn immediately regretted her outburst. Who was she to tell the man how to relax? Her problem was, she wasn’t sure Jace understood the definition of the word.
And if anyone deserved a chance to unwind and shed responsibilities, it was Jace. But that was a discussion for another time.
What she had to deal with right now was the threat of him moving into her home. It was hard enough to keep her mind where it belonged when he was in the middle of her office. Running into him in the hallway late at night? Quinn wasn’t sure she’d survive the experience.
Not without embarrassing them both.
“There’s nothing more important than this. I made a promise, one I intend to keep. Michael would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
How was she supposed to counter that? Especially when his personal crusade was championed by a ghost. If she refused and, God forbid, something did happen to her, Jace would carry that guilt around with him for the rest of his life. He was weighed down with too much of that as it was.
This situation was spiraling out of control so quickly Quinn couldn’t find a single slippery thread to grab so she could try to hold it all together.
Jace pinned her with his gaze. Her heart fluttered and a pressure settled right in the middle of her chest. He held her eyes for several seconds before saying in a low, fluid voice, “Humor me.”
It wasn’t a request, but he waited for her response anyway. And for some reason, her ability to argue simply fled. She couldn’t deny him. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Realizing her mouth had gone dry, Quinn simply nodded.
Aw, hell, what had she just gotten herself into?
3
“I COULD JUST stay here,” Quinn suggested, despite knowing it wasn’t going to happen.
Jace didn’t even bother answering. He flashed her a cutting look and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. Not very patiently.
A black bag sat on the floor beside him. His foot tapped, a staccato ag
ainst the cool tile.
She’d discovered the reason he’d had leave scheduled. And she didn’t like it. And really didn’t want to go. Attending an MMA fight was more her idea of torture than entertainment. She’d never understood the draw, for men or women.
Brutality was something she fought against. And these men—Jace included—were embracing it. Training for it. Seeking it out.
She didn’t understand and really didn’t want to.
They’d been arguing for the past twenty minutes, though. It had taken her under five to realize Jace wasn’t budging. She’d continued in the hope that eventually she’d make him late enough that he’d either leave her behind or, preferably, skip the thing entirely.
“In about thirty seconds I’m going to put you in the car myself. Stop stalling.”
Or not.
With a resigned sigh, Quinn grabbed her purse and slung it diagonally across her chest.
The drive out was silent. A part of her was grateful for the residual irritation oozing between them and the distraction it provided. Inside her own head, she continued the argument, knowing it was about as productive as actually speaking the words out loud. But maybe her mental rant would drain the emotion away.
They pulled into a dark parking lot filled with cars and trucks of every make, model and price point. Jace’s fingers brushed against her hip as he reached down and clicked open her seat belt.
Smacking his hands away, she snapped, “I can take care of myself, Jace.”
Or maybe the brooding was just feeding into her already crappy mood.
He blew out a grim breath. Exiting, he went to stand at the hood of the car. Bag slung over one shoulder, his wide, hard back to her, he waited. Even in the early summer, it was already late enough to be full dark. Harsh light from a car in the spot three spaces over slashed across his forbidding body.
His silence said more than any words could have. And for some reason, Quinn had the urge to reach out and run a soothing hand over his tense shoulders.
Grinding her teeth, she fought back the instinct. Touching him always seemed to backfire on her, sending an unwanted tingle of awareness rushing through her body. Better to keep her hands to herself.
So, instead, she walked past him toward the rectangle of light spilling out into the night from the two huge doors propped wide open. Noise poured out, along with shouting, laughter and music. Apparently the fighting had started and there was already a match going.
She’d barely gotten through the doors when Jace’s hand wrapped around her upper arm. Urging her forward, he directed her through the crowd, oblivious to the dirty stares that followed in their wake.
The dull roar of noise was a constant assault on her eardrums. Pulling her to a halt off to the left of the huge circular cage sitting in the middle of the room, Jace leaned down to speak into a guy’s ear. The man, several inches shorter than Jace, flicked a quick gaze over his shoulder at her and nodded.
The man’s eyes roamed up and down her body, not in a sexual way, but assessing. As if he was finally getting a look at a piece of artwork he’d been hearing about for years and was trying to decide if the hype was warranted.
Stepping away from the other man, Jace bent down to yell into her ear. She tried to ignore the soft puff of air against her skin and the tingle that chased behind it.
“Stay here. If you need anything tell Axe.” He threw a glance over his shoulder at the guy still watching them. What kind of name was Axe? “Do not wander off, Quinn.”
She huffed out a breath. Where the hell was she going to go?
“I’m serious.”
Oh, she had no doubt he was. Having had just about enough of his overbearing, big-brother act, Quinn reached up, snagged the delicate edge of his ear and twisted until he brought it close to her mouth.
She didn’t miss the way his lips twitched with suppressed humor. Or the wide grin stretching Axe’s face. That did not help her mood. Okay, so maybe she pinched a little harder than she needed to. Part of her relished Jace’s sudden intake of breath. The rest of her just regretted losing her patience and letting her emotions rule her actions.
“I doubt Warren decided to attend a local MMA fight on the off chance my self-appointed bodyguard—who he knows nothing about—was on the ticket tonight. I’ll be fine.”
She just wanted this to be over.
“Warren isn’t the only threat, not here. There are plenty of dangerous men walking around tonight.”
As if to punctuate his point, the heavy thud of bodies bounced against the metal of the cage a few feet away.
Quinn winced, recoiling out of instinct. Jace stood his ground, his only reaction a puckered frown.
The sickening sound of flesh connecting with flesh rang out, along with low male grunts. Quinn’s gaze found the two men, tied together in a pretzel of arms and legs against the matted floor, as they tried to rip each other apart and force a submission.
Her stomach roiled. Blood trickled down the left side of one man’s face. One guy squirmed uselessly against the hold of the other, his expression contorted with a combination of pain and resolve.
She had to look away from the spectacle, and was just in time to see Jace slip through a door several feet away. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized he’d walked away. For some reason, it bothered her that he hadn’t said anything before leaving her here, in the middle of all the bloodlust.
A hand slid down her arm. Her eyes wide, Quinn spun to find Axe standing behind her, pointing to an empty chair a few feet to the left.
Great. Maybe she could spend the next God only knew how many hours, surfing the internet and playing games on Facebook. She settled, angled her body as far away from the cage as possible, and pulled out her smartphone. But found she couldn’t concentrate on anything except the sounds of combat ringing out around her.
It was like watching a train wreck. After a few minutes, she’d always find her eyes being dragged to the match. Better to see and know what was happening than let her imagination string together the grunts and smacks into some massive horror.
So far, none of the guys seemed overly injured by the time the matches ended. Sure they were bruised, and a few sported oozing cuts. But for the most part they all seemed happy to be involved.
By the third match, Quinn gave up the pretense that she was doing anything else. This wouldn’t be her first choice for a Friday night, but since she had to be here...
That is, until Jace was announced. Suddenly, her heart was thumping like a speedboat motor. Something that closely resembled dread settled into the pit of her belly, churning and bubbling uncomfortably.
Sitting straight, Quinn gripped the edge of her chair. Lights flashed. Music played. And from the other side of the room, Jace entered the cage. His opponent made a show of his entrance, jumping up and grabbing onto the mesh. Rattling it, he yelled and the audience ate up his show of aggression.
Jace ignored him, calmly sauntering over to his corner and the men clinging to the cage on the other side. One of them spoke to him, although Quinn wasn’t close enough to hear. Jace gave a single, sharp nod of agreement and then stared down at the floor.
She thought she saw him reach around and run his fingers along the tattoo covering his scars, but he was facing away from her so she couldn’t be sure. A heavy band constricted her throat, making it hard to breathe.
Fear crawled up her spine, making her restless enough to stand for the first time all night.
Beside her, Axe shifted on his feet and eyed her, as if he expected her to do something stupid...like run. For a brief moment, she considered it, unsure she could stand there and watch Jace go through what she’d already seen.
But before she could do anything, the match started. Quinn held her breath, but that didn’t last long. Especially when the first few seconds passed by relative
ly uneventfully.
The two men were fairly evenly matched, close in height and weight. They both had broad shoulders and defined arms. Thighs heavy with muscle flexed and contracted as they danced around the center of the ring. Every few seconds a fist would flash out like lightning, there and gone almost before she could blink.
Several minutes into the fight, Quinn’s pulse finally started to settle. Her stuttered breathing evened. Her body relaxed, the grip she had on the back of her chair easing.
And that’s when it happened.
Suddenly, his opponent slammed Jace up against the cage a few feet away from her. She watched the metal bow out under the weight of his body. Jace brought his arms up to defend his face, but that left the rest of him wide open. His opponent started whaling on him, landing body shot after body shot.
Jace fought back, connecting a few punches of his own. He writhed, trying to get out from under the weight of the body holding him in place. But he struggled as the other man’s fists kept finding their mark.
She’d tried to block out the sounds of the fights all night, but suddenly Jace’s grunts seemed like gunshots funneled straight into her ears. Each sound of pain lanced through her.
Panic seized her. Adrenaline shot into her system. She took a step forward, to do what she wasn’t sure, but a heavy arm clamped around her waist, holding her in place. Someone screamed. It took her several moments to realize the frenzied words were tumbling from her own mouth.
She struggled, pushing against whatever was holding her in place. Someone had to stop this. She had to stop this. Stop it before he got hurt.
Dammit! The man only had one kidney. What if something happened? What if those body shots did permanent damage? What the hell had he been thinking?
What had his doctors been thinking, clearing him for this?
Quinn growled low in her throat. Of course, that assumed he’d bothered to ask.
Somehow Jace managed to force his way out from beneath his opponent and get back into the clear space at the center of the ring. Her body sagged with relief into the band still holding her.
Testing the Limits Page 3