Quincy: A Montana Bounty Hunters Story

by Devlin, Delilah

  Quincy drew a deep breath and saw a movement from the corner of his eye. Something large and shiny clanged against the side of Tommy’s head, and Tommy crumpled to his knees, swaying for a second. Quincy stepped aside, and Tommy crashed face first into the pavement.

  The something large and shiny turned out to be a steel wheel rim. When Tamara raised it over her head, seemingly intent on bashing Tommy’s head again, Quincy reached out and grabbed it away.

  As soon as she let go, she swayed. Still holding the wheel, he snaked his arm around her middle, not wanting her to land on top of Tommy. “Thought I told you to get out of here,” he said gruffly.

  She sagged against him. “You told me to ‘get the fuck out of here’. No one talks to me like that. I just wanted to make sure I’d have the chance to give you a piece of my mind.”

  He snorted and pulled her against his side just as Hook and Dagger rounded the corner and halted.

  “Wondered who the hell you were talking to,” Hook said, giving a nod to Tamara. “Hey, we’ve met.”

  “Yeah, at my beauty shop.” Her cheeks flushed.

  Hook and Reaper had been the ones who’d freed them after they’d been trapped inside. The two bounty hunters had teased Quincy mercilessly ever after, apologizing for not giving them more time in the bunker.

  “Yeah, I remember,” Hook said, his smile polite. His gaze went to the steel rim. “That yours?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Found it on the pawn shop’s porch. Only thing heavy enough to do the job.”

  “Smart thinking.”

  Quincy hefted it in his hand. “Don’t know how you got this over your head.”

  “Adrenaline,” Dagger said. “You’re going to be sore later.” He knelt beside Tommy, pulled his arms behind his back, and cuffed him. Then he rolled Tommy to his side and slapped his face. “Hey, buddy. Time to wake up.”

  Tommy’s eyes blinked open and rolled back.

  “Fuck, we’re going to have to carry him out,” Dagger said.

  Quincy held the rim out to Hook. “How about you return this? I’ll give Dagger a hand. I tagged him.”

  Hook scoffed. “Looks like she did.”

  Tamara pushed away from his side and smoothed her hair behind her ears. Then she glanced around them. “Dammit.”

  When she went to her knees, picking up the papers she’d thrown into the air, Quincy shook his head. “Leave them. You have to come with us.”

  “I still have more cars to paper,” she muttered.

  “We can’t leave you here. His friends will be out here at any moment.”

  “When we left, they were fighting each other,” Dagger said, grinning. “Don’t know if they even noticed we went out the back.”

  Just then, they heard shouting from the back of the building.

  “Fuck. Quick,” Dagger said, grabbing Tommy under his arms.

  Quincy tossed his keys to Tamara, who looked as though she caught them without thinking. “Silver Expedition. Get into the front seat and lock the doors until I get there.” Then he picked up Tommy’s feet, and he and Dagger shuffled down the alley as quickly as they could while Hook placed the rim onto the pawn shop’s porch, and Tamara raced ahead.

  When they reached Dagger’s new Dodge Ram, they dropped Tommy into the back seat where he rested half-on, half-off the seat.

  Dagger climbed into the front behind the wheel. “Keep her safe,” he said before he shut the door. “Looks like they’ll know where to find her.” Dagger pointed at a pink paper clipped under his wiper blade.

  It dawned on him what she’d been doing before he’d left the bar. Turning, he glanced back at her.

  She shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that the very fucking moment I was papering their bikes, you were starting a fight to…do what? Cause a diversion so you could get your bad guy out of there?”

  He frowned. “We have to go. We’ll argue about this later.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going home.”

  He arched an eyebrow and walked toward her, grabbing her elbow then turning her toward his older model Ford Expedition.

  Hook passed them and gave Quincy a wink. “I’m guessing we won’t see you for a while.”

  Quincy took a deep breath and kept walking, forcing Tamara to goose-step all the way to where he’d parked on the far end of the pawn shop.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?” the orange-bearded man shouted out as he stepped out the front door of the bar. “We ain’t finished.”

  Her eyes wide, Tamara raised the key fob and unlocked his vehicle.

  Quincy scooped her off her feet and ran.

  Tamara wasn’t sure why she couldn’t catch her breath. Was it the fact she’d just aided a bounty hunter taking down a dangerous man? Was it the fact the street behind them had quickly filled with men running for their bikes? Or the fact Quincy had picked her up like she weighed nothing and dumped her into his vehicle with a curt, “Scoot,” before edging in beside her to force her over the console and then slamming the door and punching the ignition button?

  She wasn’t accustomed to being chased by drunk bearded men who brawled away their afternoons. Her life was exceptionally unexciting. Casting a quick glance at Quincy, she noted a bruise on the edge of his jaw. Was this his “normal”?

  “My car’s there by the cleaners,” she said, pointing at her Corolla as they passed it.

  “’Fraid it’s gonna be there a while.”

  “But it’ll get towed,” she wailed.

  “Then I’ll pay to get it out of impound,” he muttered.

  When he stomped on the gas and the vehicle shot forward, she quickly buckled up. Then she glanced behind them. Several motorcycles were tailing them. “We’re being followed.”

  He gave her a quick darting frown.

  “Guess you already knew that,” she snipped.

  “I can’t take you back to your place.”

  “Well, I have to be there. I have a business to run.”

  “Run it another day.”

  “I have an employee who might be in danger.”

  “Call her. Tell her to leave.”

  It being late afternoon, Gracie had already left, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making this easier. She tilted up her chin.

  “If you’re worried about someone, you better warn them they might have company,” he bit out then gave her a quick glare.

  “She’s already clocked out.” They passed the city limit sign, and the bikes behind them didn’t trail off. “Why are they following us? We don’t have their guy.”

  “Because they’re pissed. I’m sure more are following Hook and Dagger, but they’ll peel off when they realize they’re heading to the jail.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  “No, it’s serious business, Tamara. Tommy Walton, the guy you clocked with the wheel, is wanted for assaulting a LEO.”

  “Well, I’m a Pisces; maybe his friends will give me a pass.”

  He gave a short bark of laughter. “A LEO—a law enforcement officer. He assaulted a cop who pulled him over for violations.”

  “Oh,” she said, trying to keep her mind on the conversation because it was far less stressful than watching the group of bikers drawing nearer by the second to their rear bumper.

  “The brawl wasn’t something we staged as a diversion,” Quincy said. “Someone spotted Dagger and recognized him. They knew we were there to take their buddy to jail, so they started trouble to give him a chance to duck out the back.”

  How could he drive and talk at the same time? She’d be a nervous wreck if she was behind the wheel. She cleared her throat. “So that’s why you went down that alley. You knew he was making a break for it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You weren’t purposely ignoring me.” Oh Lord, she just blurted that out. Now he knew he’d hurt her.

  He grimaced. “But I was ignoring you. I didn’t want you anywhere near him, so I couldn’t stop and chat or give you a
smile. I didn’t want them to know I knew you. I needed you gone.”

  She sniffed and looked out the passenger window. “Were you ever going to call me?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

  “Tamara…”

  She waved a hand. “You don’t have to answer that. I didn’t expect anything from you. I was surprised when you left that you asked for my card, and then I kind of built it up in my mind that you might want to see me again…um, after that last kiss…” It had been a quick, hard kiss. One that she’d thought was filled with frustration because he’d had to leave her. After all, he’d been hunting a fugitive when he’d been trapped inside her bunker. He’d left shortly after his two buddies had arrived. They’d been rather adamant about getting back out on the trail of the dude she’d given a cut and new color to disguise himself.

  “Did you catch that guy…the one you were following that day?”

  “We did. Took a couple of days.” His hands tightened on the wheel, and he glanced into the rearview mirror.

  She glanced back and noted that one of the bikers had slowed and was turning in the center of the highway to head back to Amity.

  “I didn’t want to call you.”

  She shot him a startled glance. “Well, that’s kind of harsh.”

  “No, what I mean is, I wanted to see you…in person. I’m not good with conversation.”

  “So you told me before.”

  “I bought parts to fix your door,” he said, his voice growling now.

  “You did?”

  “I was planning on showing up, fixing that damn door for you, and maybe…asking you to go out with me…somewhere.”

  “Then why didn’t you? I waited for a month. I turned down a date—with someone with prospects.”

  “You did?” His glance shot her way.

  “I was an idiot.”

  “I was the idiot. I got busy. Too many over-the-road jobs. Then it was too late to just call.”

  “But today, you were right here in Amity. Seriously, didn’t you have five minutes to stop by my place? You know where I live.”

  “I had to finish the job. We’ve been tracking Tommy since he escaped custody at the jail in Bozeman. The job’s not over until he’s back behind bars.”

  “And if you’d been assigned another job? Would you have ever dropped by to see me? Call me?”

  When he didn’t answer, she sat back in her seat and stared straight ahead. Well, hell.

  A shot rang out, pinging against the SUV’s body.

  She glanced back to see a bike with two riders, the man on back holding a handgun as he squeezed off another shot that shattered the rear windshield.

  “Get on the floor,” Quincy shouted.

  She didn’t need to hear that twice, and it didn’t matter how scared she was being without a seatbelt. Bullets trumped crashes in her mind. She unbuckled and slipped onto the floorboard. Now, she couldn’t see what was happening. But it was probably just as well. As Quincy zigged and zagged down the highway, it was all she could do to brace herself to keep from being flung around.

  She’d thought his chosen profession was exciting, but now she knew better. His “normal” sucked.

  Chapter 3

  When Orange Beard finally got tired of firing his little pea-shooter at his vehicle and the guy driving the motorcycle turned to head back to Amity, Quincy let out a deep breath. He glanced down at Tamara whose face was a sickly white. “It’s okay. We’ve lost our escort. You can come up now.”

  She gripped his thigh and the edge of her seat and pushed up from the floorboard. “That happen often?” she asked as she turned and settled on her seat.

  Her voice sounded strained. He hated that she was scared. “No. Not often.”

  “We just got lucky, huh?” she muttered then glanced at him.

  He kept his gaze on the road but watched her from the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Don’t.” She held up her hand. “If I’d taken your hint and let you pretend like you didn’t know me from Eve, I wouldn’t be in the middle of this shitstorm.”

  He gave what he knew was a galling nod. Then he cleared his throat. “Your temper get you into trouble often?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Often enough. It’s why I’m operating out of my daddy’s old bunker instead of at Hair Hype on Main Street.”

  “And there I thought you were just being a unique entrepreneur—starting some new fad,” he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere inside his vehicle. “I thought a bunker beauty shop for preppers was a cool twist.”

  “The only fads I like starting are ones that involve hair dye.” She blew out a breath then turned toward him. “I really can’t go home?”

  “Not for a day or two. We need to let Tommy’s buddies cool off.” So, maybe just an afternoon would do it, but hadn’t he been itching to spend time with her? Hook would vouch for him needing to get her to safety, so he wouldn’t be expected back at work for a day or two.

  “So, where are you taking me?”

  Her voice sounded less strained. Huskier, maybe. Like she was over being mad and thinking ahead to when they’d be alone. But he wasn’t going to take a thing for granted. “Not sure. I have a buddy with a cabin on Flathead Lake. It’s not much to look at, but it should be clean.”

  “He won’t mind if we camp out there?”

  “No, he’s in the Guard. His unit’s doing a rotation in the desert. He’ll be glad to have someone make sure everything’s still working.”

  She glanced down at her clothes. “I don’t have a change of clothing.”

  “We’ll see what he’s got stored. If we can’t make do, we can always hit a store.”

  “How many rooms does this cabin have…?” she asked.

  Now, the husky quality of her voice was unmistakable. His dick stirred. “Um, it’s a one-room cabin. Open floorplan. Uh, one bed.” He swallowed because his mouth had gone dry just thinking about sharing that mattress with the woman he’d been obsessing over the past month.

  She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. A tic he’d thought sexy as hell the first time they’d been together. Every time she’d considered throwing caution to the wind, she’d chewed on that plump pink lip then taken him places he’d only imagined in his most erotic fantasies.

  “I hope there’s food.”

  “Should be some canned goods. Maybe a bag of rice. Maybe we should stop at a grocery store along the way…”

  “My purse!” She sagged against the seat.

  “Back in your car?”

  “Yes, I’m not a hundred percent sure I locked it. Dammit. My bank card’s in there.”

  “I’ll call a friend. He has contacts. He’ll get someone there to take care of your car and your purse.” He slipped his cellphone from his pocket and dialed Brian Cobb, the office manager for the Bear Lodge MBH office.

  “Hey, Quincy. Hear you have company for the next few days,” Brian said, his tone sly.

  “Dagger’s a gossipy bitch.”

  “Actually, word came from Hook when he called to say he had Walton trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Why you calling? Any trouble?”

  “Trouble’s behind us now. No, but my friend has a problem. We had to leave Amity in a hurry, and her car’s parked on Main Street, likely unlocked and with her purse inside.”

  “Ah, you need everything secured?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Give the phone to your friend. I’ll get the details. It’s handled.”

  Quincy handed the phone to Tamara.

  “Hello?” she said.

  He kept his gaze on the road as she gave a description of her vehicle, down to the slightly flat right rear tire and the ding on the left front fender.

  “Thank you so much, Brian. You really think they can get there that quickly?” She smiled. “You’re the best!”

  When she handed back his phone, he gave her a quizzical look. “You just met the guy, sort of, and he’s the best?”

  “He has a
buddy who lives between Amity and Polson. He was messaging him while he talked to me. The guy’s already on his way. Said he’d move my car to his house until this is all over.”

  “So, no more worries?”

  She turned her head to look at him. “I always have worries. I just have a couple less right now.”

  “A pretty girl like you…what kind of worries do you have?”

  She frowned. “Why do I feel like you just patted my hair like I was your favorite Bluetick hound?”

  Quincy raised his eyebrows. “I don’t have a dog. What did I say that was so wrong?”

  “You said, ‘a pretty girl like you’ then intimated that I shouldn’t have any worries because I’m pretty. Like I’d trade my pretty ass for someone to take care of all my problems.”

  Quincy held up a hand. “Whoa. That was not what I was thinking…”

  But she didn’t appear to hear him. “Why do men assume a woman who keeps herself looking this fine is just trolling to be taken care of by some man? Don’t you ever stop to think that, maybe, we can take care of our own damn selves?”

  Obviously, he’d touched on a nerve. Something he seemed to do with regularity whenever he was alone with a woman. “I warned you. I’m not good with words. I never say the right thing. I did not intend to rile you up.”

  “Rile me up? You think I’m angry?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

  She shrugged. “Not even a little. But I thought you should see my bitch face. You get tongue-tied around the ladies, well, I can’t stop my mouth around guys.”

  Quincy’s mouth twitched, and then he laughed, slapping the steering wheel. When he shot a glance at Tamara, he saw her sheepish grin. “Well, aren’t we a pair?”

  Tamara’s lips formed a cat-like smile. “You do know how to make things exciting for a girl.”

  “I hope you’re talking about more than me locking us inside your bunker together or getting you shot at.”

  She shook her head. “It’s non-stop action, even when you’re tied up and sitting still.”

  Her gaze locked with his, and he remembered how she’d restrained him with zip ties and forced him into her beauty chair while holding a can of hairspray and a lighter, threatening to light his ass on fire. “You’re the one who offered to help with the, uh…constriction in my pants.”