Maximum Risk (7 page)

Time stood still as she watched them rip open the medic bag Quinn carried. Contents spilled onto the floor.

“Get us in the fucking air, Savat!”

Quinn’s shout echoed through the small space. Frozen in place, she watched Kell pull the door closed, secure it, and then drop down beside Ryan’s still form, demanding Quinn let him help. Quinn continued to work, his hands flying over Ryan’s body, administering life-saving drugs and CPR as if he hadn’t heard him. Focus and determination were written in the lines of his face.

Avery couldn’t look away. Ryan’s chest wasn’t moving. His lips were blue. Blood covered his clothes and his face was deathly white. The helicopter lifted into the air, twisting and turning as it rose. Her breath caught in her throat as they left the ground and in that moment of nothing she knew Ryan was gone. And it was her fault.

Her ears began to ring. She gazed at the resolute line of Quinn’s mouth as he pumped Ryan’s chest, then down at the peaceful look on Ryan’s face. A lump formed in her throat.

Kell grabbed Quinn by the vest. “Goddammit, Quinn! He’s gone.”

Although he shouted, it sounded like he spoke through a tunnel. Quinn shoved him away and slammed a fist on Ryan’s chest, over his heart as if that would make it beat on its own.

Tears filled her eyes as she watched Kell tackle Quinn to the floor then knock him back against the wall. Punches were thrown. Sounds of their struggle echoed through her head. Quinn fought Kell, eyes blazing with fury.

Avery shook her head, dots danced in front of her eyes as Kell tried to help Quinn come to terms. When Quinn broke free and began CPR again, desperately trying to bring his brother back, Kell simply fell against the wall and let him go with tears glistening in his eyes.

She saw his pain and fell to her knees next to Quinn, put a hand on his arm. He went rigid, his hands stilling on his brother’s chest. Slowly, he sank back until his hands fell from Ryan’s still form. His pain was palpable. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, hold him, but when he looked at her there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.

“Get the hell away from me.”

Avery stood, stung by his rejection. She deserved it, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear him say the words. Or see the contempt in his eyes when he looked at her.

“I’m sorry.” She pressed numbly against the wall, wishing Quinn Wolff had never saved her life.

Chapter Five

Cedar Falls, Michigan

The Wolff Securities private jet touched ground with hardly a bump. When it came to a stop Quinn pushed to his feet. The ache in his gut intensified. Across from him Kell rose to his feet, his eyes solemn. He didn’t look forward to the task that lay ahead any more than Quinn did. For now he needed to arrange a flight for Avery to New York where she could be with her aunt and her fiancé. She would need her own support system right now.

His stomach hardened at the thought of Avery taking comfort in another man’s arms. Images filled his head and he gritted his teeth, forcing them away. The tan line on her hand represented a line he wouldn’t cross, no matter how much he wanted to. For more reasons than that, she needed to go home. 

“I got it.” Kell bent down to lift Ryan’s lifeless body. “You get her.” He nudged his chin in Avery’s direction.

Quinn grabbed Kell’s arm, meeting his brother’s hard gaze. Words trapped in his throat and he let go, instead moving to the door to open it. With a nod of unspoken understanding Kell exited the jet into the cloudy afternoon warmth where a lone Wolff stood rigid next to a 1969 Dodge Charger, his hands fisted at his sides.

Quinn watched Kell cross the private airstrip to where Chris stood. His brother took one look at Ryan then at him, pain reflected in his eyes. He let out an anguished shout, spun around and slammed his fist into the hood of his beloved car. Metal crunched beneath the force of it and Quinn flinched. Chris hung his head for a moment, his shoulders slumped with grief. Then he squared them, cast another look at Quinn and walked with Kell toward the hangar where an ambulance would arrive to take Ryan’s body away.

Chest tight, Quinn turned and glanced to the front of the plane where Avery hadn’t moved the entire trip home. Her head rested against the back of the seat, her face pale, her expression vacant as she watched them take his brother’s body away.

He hadn’t handled her well. Sent her off to sit alone while he pushed his grief deep and made the necessary calls. He hated to leave things like this between them, but his brothers, Nate and Evan, were flying in tonight and his task couldn’t wait. The rest of the family didn’t know he’d broken his promise to Dani. That was his next stop.

Avery looked up; her eyes met his. Pain and regret showed in her face. She carried Ryan’s death on her shoulders as he did, but he just couldn’t find it in him to comfort her. Not when his brother was gone.

Damn it, it should have been him. Not his brother, who had a fiancée waiting at home for him.

The sooner he got Avery on a flight out to New York, the better. Then he could focus on his brother’s funeral and how he’d fucked up.

He leaned over and held a hand out to her. “Come on.”

Avery ignored his hand and pushed to her feet. “Where are we?”

“My place.”

Face ashen and drawn, she brushed past him and walked gingerly down the aisle. She held tight to the railing as she took the steps down, but didn’t ask for help. When she stepped onto the runway she paused. Her shoulders lifted and her chin dropped. His chest constricted. He knew the power of coming home. Only this time it was bittersweet.

Savat would be a while tending to his plane, an extension of the man. Quinn didn’t blame him for hiding behind the excuse to avoid what lie ahead. He dreaded it himself.

His cell vibrated. Private number. He answered with a brief, “Quinn Wolff.”

“I can’t reach Kell.”

He went rigid at the sound of Shea Morrissey’s voice. “What do you want?”

“Do you have Avery Marks?”

Eyes on Avery he said, “Yes.”

“You’re stateside?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God. I need to speak to Avery. I’ll catch the redeye.” Muffled noise in the background. “Oh, and Quinn, Avery’s presence there is classified. Understood?”

“I don’t work for you, Shea. Or the CIA. Wolff Securities took this job pro bono, remember?”

“Just trust me on this, would you? Avery Marks is a very important asset. Right now no one knows she’s alive except your team and me. I need it to stay that way. Roger that?”

His gut churned. This was exactly the reason he didn’t want to get involved with anything Shea Morrissey threw their way. Not only would it send Kell into a tailspin, it would turn an already bad situation into a worse one.

“Is Avery in danger?”

Shea’s silence was all the answer he needed. “Goddammit, Shea. I don’t want you anywhere near here. Give me a number where I can call you back.”

“Look, I’m not interested in messing up Kell’s life any more than I already have. This is business. National security, if you want to go there.” A pause. “I need your help.”

Shea had never asked for help. Even if he didn’t trust the woman, she sounded sincere.

Damn it.

Timing couldn’t be worse. His home wasn’t a safe house, but it could easily be a fortress with all the security installed. He and his brothers didn’t take any chances with the safety of the family.

Having Avery here during the funeral would complicate matters.

But if she was in danger he wouldn’t turn his back on her. “Listen closely, Shea. This better be legit, and you speak only to me. Stay the hell away from my brother. Are we clear?”

He could almost feel the tension through the phone. “We’re clear. Just give me Avery. I’ll text you my number on your secure line.”

“How did you get—” She had already disconnected. Gritting his teeth, Quinn stuffed the phone in his pocket and joined Avery.

She looked up at him when he stepped down beside her. The dark circles beneath her eyes were more prominent and lines of strain bracketed her mouth. She’d been to hell and back and he hadn’t helped any.

“I don’t think I should be here,” she said in a quiet voice. “If I could use your phone I’ll make arrangements to stay at a hotel.”

Not on his watch. “I have a spare room.”

A pained expression fell across her face before she nodded, resigned.

“This way.” He led the way to a newer model black truck parked next to the hangar. A sleek silver sports car sat next to it. Bypassing the sports car, he opened the passenger side door for her and helped her in. Momentarily, she hesitated before accepting his help. Her stifled wince wasn’t lost on him as he closed the door and strode around to the driver’s side.

He climbed behind the wheel and brought the engine to life, trying not to notice how small and frail Avery seemed pressed against the door. Her hands were clenched in her lap, traces of Ryan’s blood under her nails, her mouth drawn into a tight line. The tense set of her shoulders made him want to reach over and pull her into his arms.

He slammed the truck into gear more roughly than intended and maneuvered around the hangar to the narrow dirt lane that led through the hardwoods to his house. A weight settled on his chest as he drove closer to what would be the most painful thing he had ever done. With the woman who would only complicate it more.

****

Avery stared out the windshield at the long, lean log home in front of her. Her breath caught at the ground-to-roof windows of the A-frame style that soared toward the cloudy sky. An expansive deck wound around the windows and side, covered near the door.

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. Then again, as she looked around the secluded cabin surrounded by tall trees, maybe it was.

Quinn brought the truck to a stop in front of the door and shut off the engine. Uncomfortable silence filled the cab. He blamed her for Ryan’s death, but not as much as she blamed herself. Being here would only make that reality more painful. She wanted to get home as soon as she could and hide away from everyone. Which wouldn’t be hard since she had no close friends anymore.

Grief tore through her chest.

She’d thought being kidnapped was hell. Being here, at the house of the man who lost his brother while rescuing her, was much worse. How she wished she could go back in time. Do things differently. But would she? She wouldn’t have pushed her team so hard to make those extra deliveries if she hadn’t been running from her broken engagement. Even if life gave her a do-over, would she set a wedding date with Tim?

Anguish made her head spin.

Ironically, Quinn saved her life and in return she destroyed his.

“Come on.”

Quinn’s deep baritone broke through her misery and she pushed out the door. The chirping of birds greeted her. A sense of peace settled over her and she stood there listening to the wind blow gently through the trees, amazed she could hear it. There were no car horns, no traffic, no hustle and bustle of the city. And she’d swear she heard the soft lap of waves against a shoreline.

“Avery?”

Her eyes flew open. Quinn stood on the porch, holding the door open. The serenity evaporated and the ache in her chest returned.

“Coming.” She took the couple steps to the porch, brushed past him and walked inside. The scent of cedar and sandalwood assaulted her as she stepped into the open room. It took her breath away. A two-story ceiling opened to the loft above. A true log cabin with walls made of rounded logs.

“This way.”

Quinn led her past an L-shaped kitchen, beneath the stairway and down a short hallway to a small bedroom. He took up most of the space with his masculine frame. Hyper-aware of him, she backed into the hallway.

“Shower’s across the hall. I have matters to deal with, so help yourself to the kitchen.”

“Where are we?” she asked, realizing she had no idea what state they were in.

“Michigan.”

He strode out of the room and she backed up so he could pass. She watched his broad shoulders retreat down the narrow hallway, rigid with grief.

Soon he would bury his brother. She prayed she would be gone by then, because she wasn’t strong enough to face six funerals.

****

Quinn watched in stony silence as the ambulance drove away, lights and sounds off. Chris and Kell stood on either side of him.

“What time we meeting at Mom and Dad’s?” Chris’s voice rasped with emotion.

“Nate and Evan should be here by seven. They’ll want to be there when we tell them.”

“And Bailey and Dani,” Quinn added solemnly.

His brothers glanced at him, but he turned and strode to his truck, unable to witness the grief in their eyes. Without a backward glance he drove away, the weight on his shoulders bearing down hard.

He had already called the funeral home and taken care of the arrangements so his parents weren’t burdened with it. Not because he was the oldest, but because he’d caused this. If he hadn’t sent Ryan to protect Avery and gone himself, he would be the one lying in a pine box and Dani wouldn’t be a widow before a bride.

Blood pounded in his ears. Quinn slammed a hand on the steering wheel.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.

At his cabin he stalked through the door and up the stairs to his bedroom, which consisted of the entire loft. With jerky movements he stripped out of his bloody clothes and went into the bathroom. Leaving the door ajar, he stepped into the shower stall and pulled the glass door closed. He turned on the water and bit out a curse when a cold spray hit his shoulders.

As it warmed, he scrubbed Ryan’s blood off his hands, his eyes trapped on the bloody water as it circled down the drain at his feet. A fist wrapped around his chest and squeezed. A burst of air escaped his lips. He braced a hand on the wall, his vision narrowing.

“Goddammit,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut until he could breathe again.

Numb, he climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips. O eighteen hundred hours. He stepped into a pair of jeans and pulled on a clean t-shirt, the band still tight around his chest. Absently, he slipped on a pair of hiking boots then raked a hand through his damp hair and took the stairs down.