Quinn II (Undaunted Men #2) (19 page)

I hear mugs clanging around as if someone’s pouring coffee, and then my brother’s voice filters in loud and clear. “I had no idea they had investigated this shit on their own.” The revelation puts surprise in my brother’s voice.

“I can’t say I was surprised by them doing their own research. I knew Vince was on a warpath, wanting to seek out vengeance over Bennett’s death, but I sure as hell was blindsided by his vast abilities to conquer and take all - I didn’t give him enough credit,” Dad says, incensed. “Don't get me wrong, I'd been expecting it, but I didn't think him as capable.”

Preston lets out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’s pretty fucked up.”

“You know, after Lexi took off and Vince approached me about her disappearance, it started out innocently enough. He seemed truly troubled and distressed, and his intentions came across sincere. He was so damn charismatic about it; he had me convinced of everything. I really believed him.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Dad,” Preston says reassuringly. “Knowing they’ve been close friends for twenty-plus years, I would’ve believed him, too. Even the most intuitive of men would have been convinced.”

I massage my aching, throbbing forehead, trying to release the muscle tension. Not only does my head hurt physically, but it’s mentally overtasked with trying to separate all this confusing, complex data. I don’t understand what they’re talking about. My dad is too astute and shrewd to let Vince, or anyone, get the upper hand on him.
 

I hear more rustling around in the kitchen as if they’re cooking, and sure enough, not five-seconds later, the smell of bacon cooking wafts through the vents and slams into my olfactory senses. The delicious smell sends another signal to my stomach, and it growls louder this time. I ignore my hunger and continue to lie here, waiting out their silence to see if they say more.

When I close my eyes and rest my cheek against the cool metal of the air vent, my dad’s voice finally breaks the silence. His tone is lined with utter vehemence. “The bastard has been premeditating this for the past year with precise calculations. He was like a lion in wait, just holding out for the most opportune time to strike.”
 

“What do you want me to do?” Preston asks.

My dad lets out a frustrated sigh, loud enough to be heard over the sizzling bacon. “I’ve lost so much sleep over the past week thinking about that, Preston. When Quinn called me from the mountains, telling me they were ambushed, I had just gotten off the phone with Vince. That’s when he pulled out his trump card and blackmailed me to comply and play his game, or else. I was really hoping things wouldn’t have to come down to this, but only for Lexi’s sake.”
 

My dad suddenly half laughs, and my brows furrow because I don’t see anything funny about any of this. “Not only did he think he could overthrow me, but the bastard thought he could take on Quinn in his own element. Had he known Quinn like I do or bothered to ask, I could’ve told him he’d need at least twenty men to take him down, especially in the woods. Even if he was captured out there, he’s too cunning; he would’ve escaped.”

“Not if they went ahead and put a bullet into his head at first sight,” Preston adds.

“What would’ve been the fun in that for Vince and Connor, huh? They wanted to prolong his demise for as long as possible, torturing him first.”

I cover my mouth with my hand to avoid a sob from escaping. There’s hope he’s still alive, and by my dad's conversation with Preston, it sounds like it. The thought of him being tortured, however, makes my stomach twist with nausea.

“All of the shit he’s pulled, it’s made for one cluster-fuck of a situation,” Preston comments. “I never thought those two could have traced this back to Quinn, but damned if they didn’t.” I hear plates clanging against each other as he adds, “I didn’t think them capable of leveraging Lexi so callously either. That seriously pisses me off.”

“Yeah, you and me both. Connor will definitely pay for that one. I guess when some people seek revenge to this magnitude, they lose sight of what’s important, and will plow over anything and everything to succeed.”
 

“She loves him, doesn’t she?” Preston asks, changing the subject.

“Yeah, I think she does. When Connor and I spoke earlier this morning, he told me as much. Spending one-on-one time for a couple weeks with a man like Quinn, I could see any woman falling head over heels for him.”
 

“How do you think he feels about her?”
 

I press my ear closer to the grate, not wanting to miss a word as I hang on every syllable my dad speaks.

“Well, I know he’s never been interested in settling down before. He’s been a player as long as I’ve known him, and when I did my own background check on him, he’d been single since he finished his tour in the military. I’d have to say at one point, I thought he was pretty damn serious because he really took me by surprise when he said he wanted to take Lexi home with him. I have no doubt they both connected on a deeper level out there, and I think he wound up surprising even himself.”

Preston lets out a loud sigh. “Quinn’s a damn good man, Dad. He doesn’t deserve any of this, not one bit.”

“No, he doesn’t, and I had promised him no foul play.” My dad’s voice turns fierce. He doesn’t like his promises to people to fall through. His word is his bond. “I don’t even know how to begin to fix this cluster-fuck.”

“You’re going to need to give them both some time, Dad.”

My dad lets out a strained sigh, and I can feel the frustration coming through the vent it’s that profound. “God-dammit,” he bellows out, slamming something down on the counter. In reaction, I flinch away from the cold grate, my eyes bolting open wide, startled from his outburst. “How the fuck am I supposed to live with the knowledge he raped her, huh? Tell me, Preston, because I’m not dealing with it.”

Covering my mouth as tears prick the back of my eyes in shock, my lungs deflate and I can’t breathe. I barely hear Preston as he tries to calm down my dad. Like a warped puzzle, I vaguely begin to remember this morning, small bits and pieces of the previous night coming back to me with a vengeance as well as memories of me waking up tied to Vince’s bed. I vaguely remember Connor untying me before I passed out again.

“No.” I shake my head in denial. That can’t be, because I’m here, at home. I look at my wrists, and the chaffed skin only confirms the truth. A sob escapes me, my fingers trembling over my parched lips. I can’t recall the majority of last night…not after he drugged me. “Oh my, God,” I whisper the words in shock.

I've lived my life straight. I never wanted any part of this illegal living. Look what it’s led to. So how am I to justify my own family members being involved in organized crime anymore? “No, Lexi,” I scold myself, not everyone is like Vince. My family is a devoted, tight-knit, and loving family, they’ve worked hard to shield me and protect me. It’s odd, but my dad and Preston don't even look criminal. It brings a whole new meaning to the name Baby Face Nelson, and if there was ever a clean side to the mafia, I'd like to at least think our family was that. I've never seen my dad or Preston get their hands dirty, but of course why would they ever have to? They're the ones in charge.

I can hear the deep-seated hatred in Preston's voice, and my stomach sinks with the thought; they know my shame. There is no fixing this one. I should’ve run to my dad and Preston from the get-go. I won’t marry Vince. I’ll go to jail first; I swear it. Vince says he loves me, so I wonder if it’s an idle threat, or if he’s just that crazy enough to have me thrown in jail. I could see him leaving me locked up long enough for me to agree to anything as long as I could get out, and I’m sure he’d be able to pull a few strings and be able to get me out of jail without a hitch.

“Let’s just focus on one problem at a time,” Preston says, trying to console my dad. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. We will figure it out one step at a time, but first and foremost, we need to make sure Lexi stays in the right frame of mind.”

The sound of metal utensils clanging against each other comes through the vent loud and clear. “God, there is
nothing
worse than seeing your own flesh and blood drugged, and having to endure the torment of being a helpless victim. He’s going to pay for doing that to Lexi too.” I’ve never heard my dad's tone so full of steely resolve than it is right now.

“Yes, he will pay,” Preston says, strongly agreeing.

There are a zillion unanswered questions swirling around in my head, and I don’t know what one to address first. At the mention of word drug, I remember now. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.
 

Shit, what just happened here? I run my fingers through my hair, feeling sick ten ways to Sunday over the fact I cheated on Quinn. Some things I can remember from last night and others I can’t. I should’ve been able to fight the effects of the drugs, I should’ve fought harder. Tears sting the back of my orbs, and then begin to flow from the corners of my eyes. I feel so disgusting from head to toe.

Those drugs had played a wicked trick on my mind. It lowered all my inhibitions, making me forget everything important. I realize now how fake the experience was. I remember thinking several times last night I should be concerned about what we were doing, but all I could do was follow his lead. Everything felt so damn surreal and every little brush against my skin made me feel extremely happy.
 

Was this really all my fault? Yes, I decide it is. I could’ve been stronger - I could’ve fought him off - I could’ve at least said no. Instead, I let myself get caught up in the addictive touchy-feely. Those drugs had played a wicked trick on my mind. I feel so cheap and sleazy. I hate myself. What was Vince thinking? That he could win me back with drug induced sex? It's scary to know how my personality had changed over a simple pill. Damn him – damn Vince – he had the entire thing planned out.

I slink back against the wall as a horrid depression consumes me. I kind of feel numb, dead inside.
The frying pan makes a resonant metallic sound against the stainless steel sink in the kitchen, pulling me from my thoughts. Preston loudly announces, “Let’s go feed the munchkin.” He means me; that’s always been my nickname growing up, to the point I thought it was my real name when I was little. I quickly scramble to my feet, which was a mistake. My head spins, and I grab the wall to keep from falling over. I manage to clamber back into my bed, pulling the covers up over my body. I wipe away the few stray tears, and then I close my eyes, feigning sleep.

I hear their heavy shoes coming up the stairs, resounding against the wooden floorboards. The door hinges squeak against the intrusion. I flutter my eyes open as if they just woke me up.

“Hey, Munchkin,” Preston says softly, wearing a light smile. He has a tray of breakfast food in his hands, and even though it smells incredible, I'm no longer hungry. Both he and my dad sit down on either side of me on my full-sized bed, squishing me in.
 

“How are you feeling?” my dad asks with a frown on his face. I turn to look at him, and he looks tired and worn down from the stress he’s been under. I hold out my arms, and he leans down to embrace me. It’s one of those hugs where it makes one want to cry, and I do. I feel so vulnerable and defenseless.
 

“I missed you, Daddy.”

“Shh, my baby girl, you’re safe now,” he whispers as he holds me close.

I sob in his arms. I cry over everything that had transpired, including last night, and he seems to know that I know. He holds me tight for a long time, until I’m able to settle down. I feel Preston rub the top of my shoulder in a brotherly gesture full of concern.

When my dad pulls back, he looks into my eyes with sadness. “Let me get you some tissues,” he murmurs.

When he gets up, Preston gives me a warm, welcoming hug. My nose settles into the crook of his neck. “You smell like bacon,” I whisper hoarsely. He chuckles at me and lets me go. “I love you, big brother,” I tell him.

He regards me with a fond smile and winks. “I know.”

I give him a rueful grin. This has been our game since I was little. He’s too macho to get gushy. He’s nine years older than me, and I think to myself he must be the same age as Quinn. My small smile fades as I think of him. He must be hungry and thirsty, and my throat tightens at the thought of what’s happening to him right now. Fresh tears lay down new tracks on my cheeks.

“Hey,” Preston says softly, shaking his head. “None of that right now. I need you to eat.”

“No,” I refuse, my breath hitching. “I’m not hungry.” My father comes back with a box of tissues and hands them to me. I blow my nose as he sits back down beside me.

“Lexi, you need to eat. Your strength is vital to healing.”

“Not until I know Quinn is safe.”
 

I watch the two exchange a look and then my dad speaks up, “We got him first thing this morning.”

“You did?” Hope and elation fills me, but I notice neither one is smiling about it. “What happened?” I ask in a hurry to get answers.

“It’s a bit complicated,” my dad tells me.

“Is he okay?” I croak out, hopeful he is. “Did you get to him in time?”

My dad frowns as he swipes the hair away from my eyes. “We did, but he’s got some healing to go through right now.”

“Where is he?”

“Quinn’s friends have him. They’re on their way back home,” he informs me.

“Where, Dad? Where’s his home?”

“You don’t need to know that right now.”

I grab the fabric on his shirtsleeve and plead with my eyes. “I have to know, Dad, please.” I have things to set straight with him.

Preston pipes in, coming to my dad's defense, “Lexi, trust us on this, okay? He’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine, but you both need some time to heal in-between.” Preston gently places his hand on my cheek, his hazel eyes serious. “Vince and Connor didn’t play around, they had real guns with real bullets, Sis. He and Connor meant to get their revenge.” He sits back and rubs his hand across the back of his neck, squeezing his shoulder to relieve the tension. “I saw those pictures of Myles’ previous girlfriend, too, Lex.”