Quinn II (Undaunted Men #2) (22 page)

Only three months have passed since she betrayed me in those mountains, and I can also tell you how long it’s been down to the hour, because I still can’t do anything without thinking of her.
Her ghost follows me every-fucking-where. I’m taunted daily, and it's crippling. I can't believe how much she had gotten under my skin in such a short amount of time.

At least a few times a day, I catch myself being sucked into these ruthless daydreams. They claw at me, haunting the hell out of me, reminding me callously of her betrayal. The fucking head games Lexi played on me were far worse than the physical torture Vince and Connor put me through.
 

I truly thought what we had could never die, but it did, and so did my heart. One of my greatest fears is that I'm doomed to never love another ever again, and u
ntil the day I die, I will remember what Vince and Lexi did together.

I’m not only talking plot-wise in the name of seeking revenge for Bennett, but I’m speaking of their sexual escapades. Vince had videotaped himself fucking Lexi the very night I was dumped in that hellhole of a basement as their captive. I had lost count how many times he forced me to watch the replay of them having sex. It was a sick and twisted thing to do, but very effective.

She did indeed scream his name, and it wasn't from fear. She fucked him while still wearing my angel necklace. Bitch didn't even have the decency to take it off. The memory is still raw, and I suppose it will be for quite some time.

I’d always prided myself on being able to read people, even the most scrupulous of assholes.
Lexi far superseded my bullshit-meter out on those trails, never once revealing
or letting it slip
the conniving cunt she really was. In the video, they looked so in love as they fucked each other. It tore me to shreds as I heard Lexi’s giggle as her body writhed underneath Vince’s.
 

He would prompt her, asking who's cock she loved more, asking who she belonged to, and then the clincher; he had Lexi confess her love for Vince. After the shock factor wore off and I was watching the tape for the third time, because Vince had thought the first two were not enough. I had willed myself to settle down a bit. I began analyzing her face, searching for any nuances that would show any discrepancies in her behavior as if she were being forced, or if it all could've been an act. I came up empty-handed, and all I could see was that she was starved for Vince's dick. I was so irate, I had proceeded to take a jab at Vince, telling him at least I didn’t need a vibrator to get her off. That’s how I wound up with a fractured rib.

No one can fabricate that shit - no one. Their passion was as real as I bleed the color red.

I felt dead that day, to the point I almost didn’t care if the bastards killed me. I had lost a huge chunk of myself in that building, because I know I haven’t been right ever since. Stryker, Hunter, and Travis have gone above and beyond to make sure my mind stays busy. The four of us have pulled in more government contract work in the last month to the point where we might have to hire someone else. Needless to say, I’ve been drowning myself in nothing but work.

The second I laid eyes on Lexi, though, I knew there was something so inherently different and so magical that I couldn’t help myself.
I had no control over my heart, but I have it under lock and key now; that’s for damn sure.
The crazy thing is, if I could turn back time, I’d do the same damn thing again, but I’m officially done with women.
 

I can only blame myself for the way things are now, because I let my work interfere with my personal life in those mountains. I’m better off living life as a love-‘em-and-leave-‘em kind of guy. I’ve always been good at that game.

“I stepped out there, man. I went where most men fear to tread after losing their heart the first go-round. It took me almost twelve years to try again, and this one will last me the rest of my life.” Pain claws at my heart all over again; the wound is always fresh.
Having a conversation about her even now is ripping me apart.

I slam back another shot of whiskey and raise my hand to the bartender for another. I glance around the bar, the music isn’t obnoxiously loud, even though it’s still early.
Killswitch Engage plays
over the speakers. My one contention for coming out tonight is there would be no country music. It's too damn depressing.

I look over at Stryker, who remains quiet and speculative, his eyes pinned on me.
I know what he's doing. I’ve known him for far too long not to know what he’s thinking. He’s spinning that little psychology wheel around in his head while he thinks of a way he can talk some sense into me. He’s formulating his thoughts as if in a chess game, wanting to choose his words wisely without pissing me off. He knows I won't hesitate to lay him flat out on the floor if he says the wrong thing. He’s been down this road with me several times already, and not knowing when to take heed of my warning signs, sometimes our conversations end with my fist making contact with his flesh. I know he means well, but when he encourages me to talk about Lexi, it just pisses me off.
 

“Don't you at least want answers?” Stryker asks. It's a valid question.

“What for? They're just going to be more fabricated lies. Plus, I already know the answers. I was played with before the kill. All of them were after retribution.”

When the waiter brings me another drink and places it on the table, Stryker reaches out and places his hand over my tumbler.

Without moving my head, I shift my eyes upward, giving him a death glare, and growl, “Back off, Asshole.”

“Quinn,” he reasons, starting off with an edge of warning to his voice, as if I’m going to take his advice. “This is your fifth shot in the last half hour. I’m not telling you to quit, I’m just suggesting you slow down.”
 

“Fine,” I grumble just to appease him. He removes his hand and leans back. When he does, I take the liquor glass and swallow its contents back in one gulp.

“You fucker,” Stryker snorts while shaking his head at me. He’s half amused and half appalled.
 

I glare at him, and he raises both his hands up in the air. “Hey, you know what? It's your hangover. I'm just trying to help.”

I close my eyes and finally feel
the effects of the alcohol snake its way through my veins. I take a deep, soothing breath then try to relax my shoulders. “If I recall, it was you and
Hunter
who wanted to drag my ass out tonight.” Then I mock his voice, “Getting out will do you some good. You’ve been working too hard. It’s time to break in some new pussy.”

Stryker laughs
at my rendition of him.
“And by the way you’re acting, it tells me your testosterone levels are reaching a dangerous high.” His voice changes to a high-pitched seriousness. “By God, Quinn, I’d damn near let you fuck me if I thought it’d get the stick outta your ass. You’ve been downright insufferable and ornery the past two weeks. You need to get laid, get those bear-sized balls of yours to deflate a little bit.”

My shoulders begin to shake as I chuckle at my best friend, who’s wearing a shit-eating grin. Only Stryker can tell someone how it is, and then the recipient of his words, laugh about it.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out to see who’s calling. Fuck no, it’s her again. Stryker leans over and catches the name on the caller ID before I can decline the call.

“So, your angel has been blowing up your phone, huh?” He air quotes
angel
, because that’s the name I programmed into my cell with her number.
 

“Yes, and I'm about ready to block it.” I’m serious about blocking her number. I’m not sure how much more I can take before I cave in and decide to answer it.

“Then, why haven't you?” Stryker inquires. “Did you know, in two easy swipes, her number could be blocked? Want me to show you how?” he challenges.

“
Shut up, Stryker.”
 

He's right, some sick part of me likes to see her name pop up on my phone. It reminds me to never trust another fucking female for as long as I live.
There are no angels. They don’t exist. My mother was wrong.
 

Stryker smiles at me with a perceptive grin, because he knows me so damn well, and he knows how I reason. “You are a masochist, you know that?”

“Maybe.” I shrug my shoulders.

“Well, maybe I took you to the wrong bar. I’m sure between Hunter, Trav, and me, we can find you a dominatrix.”

I smile and roll my eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Stryker’s lips twitch and his eyes light up. “Hell, yeah. You know I’m game for trying anything new.”

“You are one sick dude. You always did like that kinky shit.”

He grins at me as he chuckles, “Actually, that’s Hunter’s deal. I’m always open for some fun and kink, but definitely not the pain.”

“Such a damn womanizer,” I mumble.

“Hi, Pot,” Stryker waves at me in a ridiculous fashion, “I’m Kettle.”

I laugh out loud at his stupid verse. “You’re damn lucky you're my best friend, or I’d have to hurt you.”

“Well, seems over the past few months, everyone walks precariously on that line with you. Nobody can figure out where your breaking point is until it’s too late, but regardless, I’m going to keep trying to persuade you to at least hear her out. At least as long as the name Angel pops up on your screen, I’m going to harass you.”

I pin him down with narrowed eyes, my voice stern. “Many men have died for less.” Stryker laughs and waves me off.
 

What I haven't told Stryker, or anyone for that matter, is I did try and call Lexi last week. I finally caved in for two reasons. First, I wanted my mothers pendant back, and secondly, I wanted to know why she was calling me.
 

It was a harrowing experience, and with each ring, I could feel my blood pressure spike. The phone rang so long, I thought it was going to go to voice mail. I wish it did. A male's voice answered her phone, and I could hear Lexi giggling in the background. It wasn't Vince's voice, that much I knew, but I'd always remember what I heard, and it didn't sit right with me.
 

They were so caught up with themselves and goofing off, it was almost as if he'd momentarily forgotten that he'd answered the phone.

 
Lexi giggled again, and it sounded as if she were right in front of me. “You want to get fresh, do you?”
 

I could hear the smile in the man's voice, as he replied almost tauntingly, “I can do fresh, Sweetheart.”

“Well, then, fresh you shall have.” Lexi paused, and then added, “By the way, you always did look delicious in green.” Lexi then squealed as if being chased by a lover, and at that point, I had heard enough; I hung up the phone. Thank God for blocked numbers. I'd look like a real ass calling her if she knew it was me.

You know, what the hell was I supposed to do? I guess I really didn't know her after all. I could only assume Vince was out of the picture, but yet there she was, laughing, being flirty and jovial with another man—and not much shortly after. In my mind’s eye, it was too short of a time to have gotten over everything that went down.
 

“Seriously, man.
You weren't there,” I explain for the hundredth time. “The second we surfaced from the mountains, she walked straight into that bastard’s arms and didn’t miss a beat. You didn't see the way she kissed him, and you didn’t hear the resolution in her voice when she told me it was all a set-up and how she drugged me so she could escape me.”
 

Stryker shakes his head then takes a sip of his beer. “If you take her call, it just might give you some closure, you know.”

I snigger in response. “I don’t need any fucking closure,” I argue. “She didn’t just close the door on us; she slammed it shut, and then put a dead bolt on it.” I shake my head at the memory, my teeth clenching as I replay those vivid sex scenes in my mind like it was yesterday. “The way they fucked each other was unreal. It was real passion, and the things they did…totally five-star worthy and could be used for discussion in a Penthouse forum.”

Hunter
comes up from behind and slaps me on the back, interrupting my private conversation with Stryker. “Hey, guys, sorry I'm late. Did somebody say Penthouse forum?”

I look at Stryker, who’s scratching the side of his jaw, looking pained, because I know he wants to crack a joke at
Hunter
’s expense, but he refrains.

“Why are you late,
Hunter
? Were you having a bad hair day?” I tease.

“Very funny, Quinn.” He's not amused, but both Stryker and I grin knowingly, because whether he'll ever admit to it or not, he's a high maintenance kind of guy. We'd always rib him in the military that an ambush would just have to wait if
Hunter
were involved, so he could get himself pretty for the occasion first.

“Hey there,” a female’s voice comes off to the side of me. I turn to look at her to see who she's addressing, and it's me. I give her a once over from head to toe, a tad irritated she's interrupted me. “I'm Heather.” She holds out her hand for me to shake while wearing a sultry grin.
 

“Quinn,” I reply with no emotion as I shake her hand.

“You want to dance?” she asks.

I chew on the inside of my cheek for a moment in thought. This is the exact type woman I'd hook up with in the past. She's in a tight, sexy skirt, and has her makeup on to perfection, reveling for a good time. She's definitely fuck-worthy, but everything about her is all wrong. She's not wearing hiking boots, a dirty pair of jeans, or sporting my ball cap. Plus, she strikes me as being high maintenance. She's everything Lexi's not.
 

“Not interested,” I gruffly reply and turn my back on her. Stryker and
Hunter
’s jaws hang open in surprise, because this is a side of me they've never seen before.

I assume she's gone when Stryker says, “Dude, I can't believe you did that. That chick was a knockout.”