Broken Promises (The Brianna Lane Series) (7 page)

“Make sure to get that man over there.” He pointed straight at Quinn and I wanted to throw myself in front of him, screaming, “Over my dead body.” No one was getting near Quinn.

“Him, Sir?”

“Yes. The way he dominated his woman, having her completely under his control as he prepared her for sex shows the mastery I’m looking for.” The man sneered, telling me he’d known we were there all along, listening to every word they’d said.

“Excellent. His wait is almost over. The charm is starting to overshadow his humanity.”

His words took a moment to penetrate my thoughts and I stared at Quinn with horror. I was so focused on escaping the strangers I hadn’t felt him release me and back away. He was convulsing in small bursts, doubled over in pain. I stepped forward to help when I heard him snap.

“Bri, run. I can feel it consuming me, and you can’t be here when it does,” he gasped, clutching his stomach. “Remember my promise? I don’t want to hurt you.”

My eyes filled with tears, but I stood there—torn—believing there was still hope. I didn’t want to leave without him, and I took a step closer. Quinn violently straightened himself, brutally gripping my hand—the pain bordered on unbearable.

He bent my wrist, increasing the pressure and it left me no other choice. I bent my knees for relief. I didn’t need to look to know his eyes were blue, and I was in serious trouble. My only hope was somehow finding a way to reason with him, playing heavily on his love.

“Fight it, Quinn. We can beat this, but you need to be strong and do your part. Remember you love me and you’re a good person.”

He abruptly released my arm, flinging it away. We stood there staring at each other, waiting for someone to make the next move. His eyes no longer flickered—my hopes crashing as they remained blue. It was further proof he was slowly slipping.

His intense scrutiny burned, and I watched him slightly tilt his head to the side as if he was evaluating the situation. I had no idea what was running through his mind, but I knew to place some distance between us as memories of his violent outbursts surfaced. His silence was eerie, standing still while his gaze never left my face.

“What are you doing?” I asked, becoming self-conscious. After everything we’d endured tonight, his quiet appraisal frightened me the most.

Fear struck hard when it finally dawned on me. He had the look of a predator—and me—I was his prey. I began to take larger steps away, making sure the path was clear.

“Wait.” The command rang out sharply, and I froze.

Shaking my head, I prayed it would release my feet and free them to move. My mouth suddenly felt dry as my palms began sweating. I rubbed them quickly over my pants and gathered my courage.

“No.” The simple word broke the spell he had cast and I lifted my hand to ward him off. “No, you wait, Quinn. Whatever you’re planning, you need to let me go.”

The heels of my shoes banging into the wall, my back hitting it a second later, stopped my escape. I closed my eyes in defeat, releasing a heavy sigh. Getting away had been a long shot, but now it seemed impossible.

By the time I reopened them, Quinn was now directly in front of me, his focus never leaving my face. I tried to turn away, to look around him for help, but each time I did, he adjusted his head and blocked my view. I moved, and he moved his until finally a thought crossed my mind. My eyes—he was trying to make eye contact and a second later, I made the connection.

The General had said those who resisted could be forced into converting. That’s what he was doing, which led to my next concern—why was it taking so long? It had taken him over pretty quickly, and my mind raced over the night’s events.

There had been times I wanted to lash out and hurt someone, my anger intense and burning. But unlike Quinn, those moments had passed. The planted suggestion had wrestled inside me, but it had been stopped by something. It reminded me of an object repeatedly throwing itself against a barrier, hoping with each attempt it would weaken until it succeeded. Whatever my resistance was, the charm couldn’t penetrate it fully.

The relief was overwhelming—there was still a chance for Quinn. It was all the hope I needed as I gathered my frayed nerves. It wouldn’t be easy, but I had a plan—I just needed to fight my way out. Renewing my struggle with him, I searched for the opportunity to escape.

“Stop!” he bellowed. I wriggled in his arms, ignoring him. “I said stop. Now!” All movement ended as he brutally slammed me against the building, winding me. I grunted in pain. Between his aggressive presence and the solid brick wall behind me, I was well and truly trapped.

I shut my eyes tightly and prayed that regardless of what he did next I wouldn’t reopen them. I had a growing theory I was immune somehow, but too much rested on my keeping clear-minded. My safety was paramount now that he was different.

“Look at me,” he ordered. His voice had lost everything that had made him the man I loved. It was harsh and cold, lacking any endearing emotion. As each moment passed, he became more like a stranger.

“No, I won’t,” I answered, defiantly. It probably wasn’t a smart move, but I couldn’t let him think he had total control. I continued standing with my eyes closed, taking in slow, deep breaths to steady my beating heart.

Maddening silence filled the air. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought I was alone, but I knew he was there—waiting.

“I’m not opening my eyes, so you might as well go away.” I knew it was a long shot but I had to try. The lack of response was deafening.

I frowned, doubting my judgment when I heard him move slightly, his shoes scratching on the concrete. Next there was a whimper, which soon turned into an agonized gasp. Something was happening and as much as it killed me, I didn’t peek.

“Bri? It’s happened again, hasn’t it? Did I hurt you?” The helplessness in his voice gave me hope.

“Quinn?”

“Why didn’t you run?” he asked. “I don’t trust myself around you.” With those few words, the confusion and sorrow in his voice melted away my doubt and I surrendered.

“We need to . . .” Disappointment stifled any further speech.

Blue eyes stared back at me.

Chapter Six

I crumpled into myself as his cold blue eyes bore into mine. Chuckling, Quinn took a step closer.

“Surprise.” He feigned concern over my shock. “And you said I couldn’t act. Did you enjoy my performance?” He laughed as he offered a mock wave, a smirk spreading across his face. He didn’t even look the same anymore.

I started to close my eyes again, but he moved faster and grabbed my chin—squeezing it. With his arm pinned across my neck, he forced me to look at him. “Be a good girl now. I want to see those beautiful green eyes of yours.”

Not caring what he would do, I kept them shut and was rewarded with a sharp crack to the back of my head as he slammed it roughly into the wall.

“Let’s try this again. Look at me.” Using the grip he had on my face, he pulled my head forward, poised to strike it against the building again. “Don’t make me wait.” He didn’t appreciate my defiance and I was rewarded with another strike. “I will hurt you. Don’t try my patience.”

I was sweating, pain radiating from my head and travelling down into my body. Knowing I had no other choice, I raised my eyelids and was immediately caught in his penetrating gaze.

Feelings of anger boiled up within me—swirling to the surface. My pride screamed for justice over how I’d been manhandled and thoughts vied for my attention, telling me the only way to stop him was killing him. My fists clenched as adrenaline began coursing through my blood—preparing me to fight for my life.

As if he could read my mind, Quinn’s smirk widened and his satisfaction was obvious. Whatever he was seeing pleased him and that meant only one thing—I was converting. I fought hard against the pressure, pushing back in a battle of wills and just when I was almost defeated, the intensity faded. I was alone in my head.

Fury swept over his features, his nails biting into my skin as he tightened his grip. I whimpered, and a glint of excitement sparked in his eyes. Quinn tilted my face from side to side, trying different positions and vantage points so he could restart the conversion. In an act of frustration, he put more force on his forearm at my throat when I remained the same.

“Stop fighting it.” I froze for a second, thinking I heard a touch of desperation in his voice. It was shattered with his next words. “If you don’t change, I will kill you.” All warmth fled at his deadly threat.

Those four short words broke something inside me and I slammed my fist into the side of his face. He’d underestimated me and when he faltered, some pressure from my throat subsided. It was the opening I needed. I swung at him, not aiming for anything in particular. All I wanted was enough room to run. The punch I threw missed his jaw and landed instead on his shoulder.

The shock of my attack quickly wore off, and his furious snarl almost made me shrink back. His jaw clenched tightly, face flushed a mottled red, and I thought the vein in his forehead would burst from throbbing so hard.

“You’ll regret that, sweetheart. I was going to show you mercy,” he growled, reclaiming control. Instead of using his forearm, his hand grasped my throat and he lifted me off the ground, using all his weight to grind me into the wall.

“Quinn . . .” I croaked as my fingers frantically tried dislodging his. “Stop. Please.” My words fell to a mere whisper, tears now streaming down my face.

Blinded by his ire, he simply stood there, breathing heavily as he tightened his clutch. “It didn’t have to be this way. All you had to do was stop fighting me . . . the compulsion,” he hissed.

My body started to droop and I struggled to keep my eyes open. The lack of oxygen made it hard for my brain to control the rest of my body and I began to fade.

Tumultuous emotions flickered across his face. The rage was still present, followed closely by primal arousal. His actions were turning him on, but what was hidden underneath the surface surprised me—he felt sorrow and regret. He wasn’t completely lost and with one last burst of energy, I raised my arm and made a weak attempt to break free.

Everything slowed down—time stood still—seconds trickling slowly into minutes. I watched my hand travel on its way to connect with his jaw, images flashing through my mind. I wanted to laugh at the cliché as my life flashed before my eyes—my life with Quinn.

He’d bumped into me at the Book Nook. I’d been minding my own business when we collided; the books I’d been carrying tumbled to the floor, clattering loudly. Before I could stop the gorgeous stranger, he’d begun picking them up—pausing when he caught a glimpse at the covers.

“Got a thing for shirtless . . .” He turned one in his hand so he could get a better look at the title. “Highlanders, do you? Let’s see what else you’ve got here.” He grinned as I knelt beside him, embarrassment flaming across my face.

I remember feeling like I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole. He paid no attention as I frantically scrambled to gather the scattered novels—proceeding with his critique of my reading choices.

“Oh, this one looks fun.” He chuckled, flipping it over and reading the blurb. “It says here they both have a burning desire for each other . . . one they desperately try denying.” He glanced at the seductive pose the male model stood in, his muscles bulging. “Let me guess, paranormal romance?”

I cringed at how fast he’d discerned my tastes. “Yeah, vampire,” I muttered, not sure whether to run or enjoy the way he was flirting. Somewhere beneath the blush, my stomach fluttered with nerves.

“Of course, I should have known. My sister loves reading this stuff.” He grinned and I was temporarily rendered speechless. I knew I was gaping like a fool, but he’d caught me by surprise. He reached for the next one and I moved quickly, trying to intercept him. Unfortunately I wasn’t fast enough.

“What do we have here . . . ?” He paused, staring at me. It was then I realized he was waiting for my name.

“Brianna. My name is Brianna.” I smiled. It wasn’t every day I talked with a man who looked like he’d stepped straight out of the stories I loved reading.

“Pleased to meet you, my name is Quinn.” He grinned and to my complete horror, began flipping through the paperback. “So, why were you trying to hide this from me?” He scanned the pages, snorting in places until he stopped, looking at me with a sparkle in his eyes. “Let’s see.” And he began reading out aloud.

I felt the blush that burned furiously across my cheeks as he added extra emphasis on certain parts—making them sound cheesy. I thought he’d read the entire chapter when he abruptly closed the book. “So you like this kind of stuff, huh?”

Something stirred within me—a confidence to fight fire with fire. “I do, but the truth be told, I prefer this story.” I looked on the floor for a different title. I knew it was cheating, but the book I grabbed was a well-loved favorite and in desperate need of replacing. My copy was at home in tatters and was falling apart from countless reading—so many times I practically had it memorized.

I quickly turned to a section that had been the source of many late night fantasies. Raising an eyebrow, back in control, I handed him the novel. “By all means,” I paused for emphasis. “Read it out loud.”

He chuckled as he took it, clearly not worried about what he would find. Goosebumps erupted over my skin as he spoke the words of the hero—my favorite scene unfolding. He must’ve skimmed ahead because he swiftly began choking, his face turning a startling shade of red. His wide-eyed expression was priceless.

I gently retrieved the book from his hands, crouching to pick up the others. He stood still, his expression flooded with desire and it stirred something deep inside me.

“Did you enjoy what you read? See anything you like?” I asked sweetly, giving what I hoped was a look of pure innocence. His Adam’s apple bobbed and I laughed, letting him off the hook. “Here’s a word of warning,” I whispered, moving in closer. “Never mess with a woman whose obsession is romance novels.”

I rose on my tiptoes and bravely grazed my lips over his cheek. “You never stood a chance, but nice try.” I patted his chest, ignoring how hard his muscles felt. “It was nice to meet you.”