Tugging her cap down, Bree stepped from the boat onto the pebbled riverbank, minding her ankle. It hurt much less and the swelling was down, but she couldn’t let on that it bothered her at all or the sheriff would make her wait in the boat. He hadn’t wanted her to come in the first place. But she’d insisted she was their best chance of finding the man she’d killed.
It wasn’t like she could look at a map and point out the path she’d taken. She truly wasn’t sure where she’d hiked. It had all been a nightmare of running and hiding in the dark. Making her way through a forest maze. Maybe they could have found the body without her help. But she was here now.
Maybe they would find Quinn’s camper.
Maybe they would even run across Quinn.
How exactly was she supposed to keep his presence here a secret?
Other law enforcement agencies searched the woods as well—forest rangers and state police. So if he’d stayed around, the chances of his being found were high. But he wasn’t a criminal, as far as she knew, so if they found him, it wasn’t like they were going to arrest him. He just didn’t want the wrong people to find out his location.
But from where she stood, they already knew. There had to be more to the situation that he hadn’t shared. Quinn was in even more danger than she realized. What haunted her most was the possibility they would find Quinn’s body.
Sheriff Garrison hiked inward with a couple of other deputies, and Bree followed when she probably should have led.
She had to shove the idea of finding Quinn’s body from her mind. But she couldn’t seem to get it out of her head. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized that if he was dead by the hands of the hitmen, they probably wouldn’t leave him behind. She had the sick sense they had to return to Louisiana with evidence of the kill. But it was more likely they would take him back alive to be tortured.
She shuddered, then realized too late that the sheriff had stopped to watch her.
Sheriff Garrison studied her. “You sure you’re up for this, Bree? You look kind of pale to me.”
While she wanted to present herself as a tough and capable deputy, she had to offer up some truth, or he’d know she was flat-out lying. “Sure. I was up all night, remember? Running from those men. I’m tired. But I can sleep tomorrow when this is over. Right now, I’m worried those guys are still out here.”
“I’m sure they’re long gone. Why would they stay here with law enforcement scouring these woods?”
“I don’t know, Sheriff. Why would they shoot me and Jayce? Why would they track me and try to kill me? I don’t think we can just assume we know what they’re going to do.”
He narrowed his gaze. Had she spoken too harshly to her superior? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “No, you’re right. I’d rather you speak your mind to warn us of the danger than hold back.”
She nodded. “That’s the direction I took off.” She gestured the way she’d run, and two deputies hiked on.
God, please keep us safe.
When they came to the copse of trees where she’d hidden, the tree with the hole in it that she’d tucked herself inside, memories flooded her. Terror, too. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
This was the place where she’d first seen Quinn. He’d shown up out of the blue to save her.
Guilt suffused her. She should tell Sheriff Garrison about Quinn.
She heard his voice in her head as if he were standing right there.
…for Stevie. Don’t put him in danger…
And she absolutely wouldn’t risk Stevie’s life. Losing Steve had already crushed them all. Quinn knew that, and he’d known just the right tactic to use. Still, she’d seen in Quinn’s eyes his concern for Bree and Stevie, and knew that he’d believed what he’d said to her. Keeping his presence here to herself, at least for the moment, was for the best.
All these thoughts swirled in her head as she hiked in search of the man she’d killed. In search of more thugs, if they remained. Fear tried to turn her back. Fear that those same men would take out more law enforcement.
The tangled and rough land proved too much for her ankle, which began to throb again. Bree pushed through—she had to find the body. Finding that man could go a long way in identifying who these characters were. Quinn might know, but he hadn’t shared that information with her. Maybe she could somehow figure this out and help him.
A small part of her hoped she would find Quinn in the woods today so he could be protected. But the way these men boldly shot at two deputies on the river—without fear of consequences—basically confirmed Quinn’s assessment that no one could protect him better than himself.
“You okay?” the sheriff asked her again.
She wished he would quit worrying about her. “Sure. We just have to hike up through that narrowing. It was the only path left to me. Somewhere in there is where I shot someone.” Defending Quinn.
She’d explained all of it to the sheriff during the debriefing, and though normally she would be given desk duty for a couple of days, her presence was required here before an investigation could be launched into the shooting. Into all of what had happened.
The sheriff nodded and waved for the deputies to continue on, her attempt to redirect him successful.
She blew out a breath, wiped the sweat from her brow and forced herself to keep going. Once they found the body, they could go back. She would soak her ankle and worry about her and Quinn’s secret tomorrow.
Hours later, they had trekked and searched the area where she was positive she had dropped one of the thugs.
But no body.
“There’s blood here. You can see that.” She peered up into the canopy where the sun seemed to beat right through the trees. “His friends obviously took him. Didn’t want us to find and identify him and link him to them.”
Gunfire thundered much too close.
Heart pounding, Bree crouched next to a tree. The other deputies and the sheriff all did the same, though none of them could be entirely sure from which direction the shots had been fired.
She sucked in air too hard and too fast. Last night barreled into her mind. Not again. Bree got a hold of her runaway emotions. Be the deputy you’re trained to be.
Ignoring her sweaty palms as she gripped her Glock, she peered from behind the tree.
Who was shooting? Quinn at one of the criminals? Law enforcement at Quinn? She should have told them about him.
She would do that as soon as she got the chance. “Sheriff!”
A shadow moved between the trees in the distance.
Not Quinn.
No—one of the men from last night. They were still here?
That meant Quinn was still here, too.
A deputy exchanged gunfire with the gunman. Machine guns rattled off. That would draw the other law enforcement, for which she was grateful.
She didn’t want to see someone else get shot. Or maybe killed this time.
Bree backtracked to make her way around behind the shooters. She paused between trees and waited. Then continued on.
Hurry—I have to hurry.
Sheriff Garrison. The deputies. They were getting hammered with bullets. Where were the other law enforcement entities?
She slunk behind boulders, crawled over pine needles and through ferns until she was almost behind the shooter with the machine gun. He stopped to reload.
Perfect.
Palms sweaty, heart pounding, Bree positioned herself to confront him. Or shoot him. Her job required her to take someone like this out before he killed. The sheriff and the other deputies probably would have already shot and killed him.
What was the matter with her?
Was she cut out for this job or not?
Arms grabbed her from behind—arms belonging to a big man—and she cried out. He dragged her behind rocks. She caught sight of his brutal, angry, scarred face. He lifted the butt of his weapon.
Bree thought of every evasive move she’d ever learned, but his grip was a steel vise.
A body slammed into him, breaking his hold on her.
Quinn!
He incapacitated the man. Then disabled the man with the machine gun, too.
Quinn rushed to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes. But what are you doing here? I hoped that you’d be long gone by now.” Her heart beat erratically at the sight of him. She was glad to see him. Disappointed, too. He shouldn’t be here.
“I had to stay behind. But you have to leave. You shouldn’t have come. I think they know, Bree. They know who you are to me. Get out of here now before these men get to you. I’ll lead them away from here, I promise. Now get back to your sheriff.”
* * *
Quinn eyed the woods. The trees that could be hiding someone who pointed a weapon at them now. The boulders behind which he’d been hiding himself could now be sheltering someone else. Someone dangerous.
He should go now. He should really go. But what about Bree? She was a target here. What had she been thinking to come around behind the shooter? Had her sheriff directed her? He didn’t think so. Then again, the sheriff and two deputies had endured a barrage of bullets, and Bree was…well, she was trying to be the hero.
He turned around to face her.
“Please, Bree, get out of here. Go back to your sheriff. I’ll watch your back.” He couldn’t just leave her here until he knew she was safe.
Even if that meant revealing his presence.
“Give me a sec.” She grabbed her ankle.
It must still be bothering her. Why had Garrison let her come? Acid burned in his gut.
But what got to him most, the thing that could undo him, was the fact that he wouldn’t always be there to save her. He wouldn’t always have her back. He wasn’t sure he could accept that.
But I have to.
He shook off the craziness exploding in his brain to focus on keeping them alive. He peered down at her, still on the ground. He’d give her a few seconds to rest, like she asked, but the sooner she got back to safety, the sooner he could disappear.
The problem was, Quinn didn’t want to leave her ever again, for a hundred reasons that had nothing to do with her safety. But he also needed to lead these men away as they continued to hunt him.
He couldn’t do both at the same time.
And yet he knew that leading them away would not ensure her safety. They could always come back—or report their findings back to Jones, who could send another team after Bree. His shoulders sagged. He turned and glanced down at her, and this time she got to her feet. He didn’t assist her because he wanted to see that she could do this herself, even if her ankle still bothered her.
Otherwise, he’d pick her up in his arms and march her over to the sheriff himself. A bold thought, that.
He lifted his gaze to look into those heart-melting green, green eyes and lingered there much too long. He pulled his gaze away before he got lost in hers.
His heart pounded with indecision.
With what he shouldn’t feel for her.
Her breaths still came hard and fast from fighting. From dodging bullets. From the heat. From this situation.
He wanted to take her away from all this. To escape the ugliness. Except he was the one who brought it with him, and he could never escape it. So getting her away from it—as long as he was with her—wouldn’t help her at all.
“Bree,” he whispered.
The one word—her name—was met with silence.
Anger burned in her eyes, along with disappointment.
Gunfire in the distance shattered that silence.
Good. The jerks were engaging other law enforcement. That meant they were focused away from Bree. They were probably trying to escape. He hoped they were arrested and made to talk and that the truth would come out about the dirty DEA agent, but that was just a fantasy—these guys probably didn’t know about him.
That’s why Quinn didn’t waste his time with them other than to get his pack back.
Bree hung back and stared at him. What was she waiting for?
He gripped her arms. “Please, just do as I asked. You should never have come back.”
“I… I had to make sure they found the body.”
His heart tripped up. That was her excuse? “They don’t need you for that.”
“I wanted to be here in case they found you. To protect.”
“But Bree, you don’t need to protect me from the law. I’m not a criminal.”
“They’re searching for men in these woods. You have a gun and a pack, they wouldn’t know who you are. I would be here to explain. To tell them the whole truth.”
They had so much history, baggage and emotion between them that it was hard for Quinn to let her go. She meant so much to him. Everything.
Which meant he had to convince her that she shouldn’t waste her time on him.
He gripped her arms and pulled her closer. “Get this through your head. I do not need your protection. If anything, you’ve risked my life by forcing me to stay to keep you from getting killed.” Well—that part was on him. It was all so convoluted now. He hadn’t told her about his stupidity in leaving her picture in his pack.
Hurt poured out from her eyes and seeing that look, being the one to put it there, killed a part of him. Stabbed that part of his heart where Bree would always remain. Good. He needed to be done with this, for her sake.
She twisted out of his grip.
“Fine. Have it your way, Agent Strand. Oh, that’s right, you’re no longer with the DEA. You couldn’t stick with them, either.” She gasped, as if realizing she’d said the words aloud. “Oh… Oh, Quinn. I’m so sorry.”
She reached for him. He stepped back. Calloused himself. He should have already been immune to Bree.
“Remember, Bree. Not a word about me. Stevie’s life could be at risk.” And yours, too.
The only problem was, if they found the picture of her, Bree’s life was already in danger.
And that meant that no matter what he told her, he couldn’t leave.