Quinn I (Undaunted Men #1) (6 page)

“That’s the plan,” I assure him with a smile.
 

“My father trusts you, and his trust isn't earned easily. Something is going down with her, and nobody knows what it is.” Piecing the puzzle together now, I realize I’m talking to Moretti’s son, and he must’ve seen my confusion, because he then introduces himself, “I’m sorry. I’m Preston, Lexi’s older brother.”
 

“I thought you looked familiar. You resemble your father quite a bit.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Well, Preston, you can be rest assured. I’ve got this.”

“Thanks, man.” He looks really ripped up over this, as well he should be. If I had a sister in this predicament, I’d be going apeshit.
 

“I need to get back to my dad before he rips the rest of his hair out. Keep us posted, yeah?”

“Signals may be sketchy, but I will check in when I can.”

He nods his head and slaps me on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Thanks, be careful.” He then let go of me and gets back into his car.

I turn around and get my gear out of the bed of my truck before I let Kimber out of the front seat. I lift the fifty some odd pounds of my mountain backpack and groan. Not because it’s heavy, but because I’ve become too damn domesticated. I've had my fill of playing Rambo in my younger years; since then, I’ve become too comfortable with life’s amenities.
 

At least it's springtime, which means the weather should make for perfect daytime hiking. As I lock up my truck, I mull over the thought of just how long my vehicle is going to wind up sitting here before I can get back to it. Either that, or Stryker and Hunter will have to pick it up. I’ve prepared and packed for all the worst-case scenarios I could think of. If there is one thing I hate, it’s not being properly prepared. I did have a few arguments with myself, forcing myself to not carry every gadget I owned. I get this from my father, and I can hear his speech now. “
It’s better to have and not need, than to need and not have.”

If it weren’t for the help of my longtime comrades, Stryker, Hunter, and Travis, this rescue would have been nearly impossible for me to assemble in one day.
 

I wipe the sweat off my brow, and then call out to Kimber to slow the fuck down. Even though I paid out the ass for all this ultra-light camping and hiking gear, it doesn’t feel so light after about six miles in.

My mind has been racing with all the different scenarios I might encounter with Moretti’s daughter. The picture her dad sent me was worth a thousand words. She was pristine, beautiful, and perfect in every way. Her entire look screamed “entitlement,” and I could pretty much figure out what I thought her life was all about. There was no doubt she was used to the finer things in life. Being a mafia princess, I’d already envisioned her to be a bit prissy. I can see highly manicured nails, perfect hair, makeup, and designer hiking gear while out on these trails.
 

It feels as if I’ve been hiking at a three mile per hour clip, which is damn fast for this type of terrain, all the while having this heavy gear on my back. For every foot of elevation I climb, time gets tacked onto my hike as well. While it would be nice to find her before dark, not knowing her mindset, reminds me she could be ten miles ahead of us.

I look at my carefree girl running back down the trail and grin, shaking my head at her. Her little backpack hasn’t slowed her down one bit. She’s on cloud nine out here and having the time of her life. This trip is damn near worth it, just to see her happy.
 

She runs back to me, wagging her tail the entire way. “I know, I know. You want to find your mark tonight,” I tell her as I pat her on the head, “but let’s not give your owner a stroke in the process.”
 

Dealing with a retractable leash on these trails while having to navigate around bushes, trees, and underbrush is bullshit. Kimber had been trained to work off her leash in the military. It was drilled into her to move ahead of her handler so she could detect dangers, like mines and improvised explosive devices, among other things.

I understand why they have the leash law, and they need it, but for a trained dog such as Kimber, it’s simply not necessary. Nevertheless, to avoid unnecessary trouble, I used Velcro to adhere the leash onto the back of her backpack. Stryker thought my invention was funny as hell; I thought it was genius.
 

After I had Kimber smell Alexis' shirt several times and gave her some commands, her entire demeanor changed. Kimber became revved up, coming alive with excitement. I believe a large part of her misses the military work, but I think she’s turned this into a game - there is no sense of imminent danger, and it’s a human we’re scouting after, not bombs and enemies.

Three hours into the hike, Kimber suddenly goes down on all fours, wagging her tail, which tells me we hit pay dirt. Lexi really could’ve made some serious headway by now, working her way deep into these trails, but there she is. We're still far enough away from her for us to remain hidden from sight, and I give Kimber the signal to stay put as I slowly approach her from behind.
 

I have to give her credit because she did find shelter. The small wooden shelter has an overhanging roof, a wooden floor, and three walls. The structure is open to the elements on one side, but the roof is slanted in such a way it looks as if it would keep you dry in a rainstorm. I notice she has her stuff all spread out, looking as if she’s planning on staying here for the night. She'd be a fool not to.

This task was ridiculously easy. Had Moretti put any thought into this, instead of panicking, he would’ve known an inexperienced hiker such as she would’ve been sticking to the main trails.

She’s hunched over as if she’s trying to focus on starting a fire from scratch, but it’s not until I’m a few yards away I realize she’s actually in a small huddle, crying into her hands. She's obviously allowed herself to stop long enough to reflect on the past forty-eight hours of her life, letting her circumstances take over her emotions.
 

I come to a stop behind her and gently place my hand on her shoulder, softly speaking, “Hey, are you okay?”

She screams bloody murder, and then she flips her body around, landing square on her ass. Her hand covers her heart, and realizing I scared the crap out of her, I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard you crying, and thought you might’ve needed some help.”
 

“Holy shit,” she gasps.

Squatting down directly in front of her, I apologize to her again. “I really didn’t mean to startle you. I stopped because I was concerned.”

“It’s okay.” She takes several deep breaths, and then slowly exhales. “You just caught me off guard, is all.”
 

Being this close, I can’t help but notice what a natural beauty she is, and the picture her father had sent me is nothing like her now. She’s wearing no makeup on her flawless face, and despite her red, blotchy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, I can’t take my eyes off of her. Her cheekbones are naturally defined, and she’s got this olive complexion thing going on that gives off an almost regally refined look. So obviously, when she does wear cosmetics, as in the picture her dad had emailed me, she looks even more cultured and polished, almost as if she belonged on the red carpet.

Her dark brown hair has been woven into a thick braid off to one side, and the tail of it ran over her shoulder and onto her ample-sized chest. Her breasts…oh, hell…they’re perfect. With her heavy breathing accentuating them, I have to force my gaze back to her eyes, which are still wide with surprise. They're as beautiful a shade of light brown as I’ve ever seen before.
 

“You were crying. When somebody’s distressed out here in the wilderness, it’s common courtesy to stop and make sure he or she is okay.” I take pause, staring her down, trying to decide for myself if she looks like a killer or not.
 

“Are you? Okay, I mean?”

“Yeah…yeah, of course,” she responds right away showcasing a false smile, one which looks practiced and perfected over the years. Since I’m privy to her background story, I know better, it's not a genuine smile.

I eye her with skepticism, and then pry, “What had you all upset?”

She takes a deep, cleansing breath before she answers, “The last day and a half has been pretty rough. I guess I let it all catch up to me.” She then gestures to the fire pit beside her and explains, “When I couldn’t get a fire going, I got overly frustrated and just broke down.”

I take off my ball cap and scratch at the top of my head in thought. I glance over at her gear, and it’s just as I thought; all of it is brand spanking new. She most likely has no idea what to do with half the garb in her bag.

I hold back a grin as I peel off my heavy backpack and lay it on the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I was raised to be a southern gentleman, ma’am. My mother, God rest her soul, would have my ass if I left you here helpless and didn’t bail you out, not giving your predicament a second thought.”

“Oh,” is all she says.
 

As I restructure her twigs, I dig around looking through all the items she’s laid out until I find what I’m looking for. I then look to her with a raised brow. “Watch and learn.” She nods her head and scoots in closer with interest.

Once I get the fire started, I explain how to build on it with bigger pieces of wood. I lean down to blow into the fire, helping it along, and ask, “I can’t help but wonder what a pretty young lady is doing out here all alone on these trails. It’s not safe.”
 

“I’ll have you know I’m a very skilled hiker. I do this all the time,” she says, taking offense. I’m sure the lie is to help her look strong in the face of a stranger. I can hardly blame her. It’s a smart move, actually.

“Well, if you’re so skilled, you’d know it’s not safe to travel alone,” I counter while suppressing a grin, and then I hold up my lighter, “and you’d know how to light a campfire.”

“I was having a moment, that’s all.” Her words are defensive, and with her not knowing my sense of humor, it appears I might be unsettling her a bit. I don’t want to upset her, so I stop ridiculing her.

“Fair enough.” I extend my hand and introduce myself, changing the subject. “I’m Quinn, by the way.”

She hesitates for a beat, then places her petite hand in mine. “You can call me Lexi.”

“All right, Lexi it is.” We both fall quiet as I finish building the fire for her. When I’m done, I sit back and rub at the five o’clock shadow on my jaw while I assess her, wondering what could make someone like her kill another person. I’ve spent a lot of time reading people, and I don’t think she has it in her. But hell, we are talking about the mafia here, aren’t we? She was probably raised with a silver bullet in her back pocket. I internally berate myself for stereotyping her.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asks nervously.

I shake myself from my thoughts and look into her soft brown eyes. “Like what?” I ask, confused.

She waves her hand in the air, trying to explain. “I don’t know. Like maybe you’re studying me or something.”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m simply trying to figure out why a young woman would want to be out here all alone in the first place. It is dangerous,” I rationalize, exuding a genuine concern for her. “It’s not wise for anyone, including men, for that matter. Things can go from wonderful to tragic in seconds, skipping right over bad and terrible.” She picks up on my sincere demeanor, and her tense shoulders relax.
 

“You're right, and I’m sorry I snapped. I don’t really know much, if anything, about hiking,” she admits. “A friend set this up for me, suggesting I take a hiking trip. You know…to get away and clear my head.”

“That’s not a very good friend.”
 

“Why do you say that?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Because friends don’t let friends camp alone in the wilderness, especially if you’ve never done it before.”

She doesn’t argue with me, and nods her head in agreement as she slowly eyes me up and down. “Well, you’re alone.”

I shake my head. “Negatory, sweetheart. I brought my best friend.” I can tell I’ve confused her. I give her a playful wink before I let out a loud whistle. Not expecting the sudden sound, she reflexively flinches.
 

“Sorry about that; I didn’t mean to startle you.” I’ll have to remember with her being on the run, she’ll be jumpy for a while.
 

Kimber comes ripping through the bushes at high speed, and I brace myself for impact, but it never comes. She bypasses me and plows right into Lexi, knocking her off balance. Lexi lets out a squeal of laughter as Kimber licks her from cheek to cheek, wagging her tail.

“What the fuck, Kimber?” She has never, and I mean
never
liked any females around me. She’s always been jealous of them.
 

Lexi giggles as she sits up, rubbing behind Kimber’s ears, and asks me, “What’s wrong?”