Ricochet: Friendly Fire Read online

  Standing up to leave, she stared at his face—so unbelievably attractive and expressive. Those shockingly turquoise eyes showed the depth of the damage she did to this man. He was obviously a very cautious person when it came to… well, pretty much everything. From entering her apartment to crossing a parking lot, Rick took everything in as if he was expecting to find danger around every corner. No one could be trusted. He had willingly given her that trust and she destroyed it.

  Time to apologize and get out of here.

  She stood at the edge of the patio, ready to leave after she said her piece. “I’m sorry, Rick, for what I did. I really am. I had to get my head on straight.” Quinn paused, licking her dry lips. “My dad and I didn’t get along real well. My mom died young, when I was a teenager. Dad had to quit the Marines to raise me and not a single day went by that he didn’t remind me of that in some way. Not with words necessarily, it was his demeanor. It was as if the life had been sucked out of him, making him angry all the time. The military was his entire existence, it was all he knew.”

  “That’s not your fault Quinn. He shouldn’t have put that on you. But I don’t see what that has to do with us or what you did.”

  Quinn glanced at Rick, his expression tight, then down at her feet. “I know. It didn’t make it any easier then and it doesn’t make it any easier now. Once I turned eighteen, I left for college and didn’t look back. While I was away, he died. I never got to apologize for leaving him or to thank him for giving up his career for me.”

  And then I married Travis and put the final touches on completely fucking up my life.

  “I’m sorry,” Rick whispered. She glanced back at him. Rick’s eyes told Quinn he meant it, but the silence that followed spoke volumes. He still didn’t trust her or understand why she left.

  “I—I managed to avoid clearing out his house until now. That’s where I went, Rick. I was in a bad place when I got here. I needed to get all of that stuff taken care of before I could move forward with my life. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of us for me to get involved with you when my mind was so messed up.”

  She watched as he squeezed his eyes shut, his palms pressing into his eyes and grinding down hard. “Why couldn’t you just tell me this instead of disappearing?”

  Quinn hesitated, she could feel the blood rush out of her face leaving her dizzy and short of breath. She should tell him, but the thought of telling Rick about Travis had her on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. Her vision began to spin, darkness edging in.

  This is why I can’t tell you. I can’t relive it, I can’t.

  “Quinn? Hey. Breathe.” Suddenly, Rick was there. She could feel his strong hand on her shoulders, pushing her back onto the chair. Then one hand slid to the back of her neck and her head was shoved down between her legs. “Breathe, Quinn. It’s okay.” A firm grip continued to hold her head down while a large hand rubbed gentle circles on her back.

  Gradually, the panic receded and the spots behind her eyes disappeared. Quinn took a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m fine. You can let go.”

  “Sit up slowly,” Rick instructed, removing his hands. The cold voice had been replaced with his usual warm baritone… he was back to the Rick she knew and cared about.

  When he withdrew, she missed his touch immediately, wishing she could curl up on his lap, bury her head in the crook of his neck, and inhale the scent of his skin. Nearly sobbing out loud at the loss of someone she never really had, Quinn sat back up in the chair, quickly rubbing away the tears that had escaped.

  Rick leaned towards her from his seat, grabbing both of her hands and covering them with his. The small gesture took away the last vestiges of anxiety, letting Quinn relax until her shoulder slumped. Her Rick was back, even if it was just for a little while to comfort her in this moment, she cherished it. Embarrassed by her freak out, she began to babble.

  “I’m sorry about making such a scene. I—”

  “Don’t apologize for being human, Quinn. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  See, he would have comforted anyone like that. Don’t read into it and think it’s Rick caring about you.

  “I’m okay. I’ll go. It’s hot out here anyway.” A shudder wracked her small body, causing her to wrap her arms around herself.

  A pained look flashed across Rick’s face. He exhaled deeply, blowing the breath out between pursed lips as he looked up at the sky. Resigned, he looked at her. “I don’t know if you should drive yet. Why don’t you wait a minute to make sure you’re okay before you go?”

  Quinn didn’t speak as Rick got up slowly and led her back into the house. He motioned for her to have a seat on the sofa. It was painfully obvious he was favoring one side of his body as he lowered himself down next to her.

  “You never did tell me how you were injured, why you missed work.” When he sat, Quinn automatically tucked into Rick’s side without thinking, needing the closeness of his body to keep her from spiraling back into darkness.

  Rick frowned at her proximity, then she could feel his tense muscles relax into her as he made the decision not to fight her on it. “Oh… yeah that. I was training a guy out of town and took a hard uppercut. Nearly knocked me out cold. When I fell there was a dumbbell on the ground. I landed on it and needed stitches. No big deal.”

  Quinn sat silent for a moment. Rick’s explanation sort of made sense, but something about it didn’t feel right. “You missed work because you fell on a free weight? That doesn’t seem like the type of injury to cause someone to miss work.”

  Rick’s eyes darted to the floor. “Yeah, well…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

  Quinn was about to ask more questions when Rick suddenly turned to look at her, trapping her with his unwavering gaze. “Now, I want to know what happened out on the patio. What made you panic like that?”

  Quinn had to will her body not to freeze up, to keep the blooming anxiety from taking root again. Swallowing, she knew she couldn’t make things right unless she told Rick about Travis, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She was not going to play the victim, not in her new life.

  Rick waited patiently for Quinn to start talking. Clearly, she didn’t want to discuss whatever it was that nearly sent her into a panic attack. He saw her tiny hands trembling as she rubbed them up and down her thighs, as if she could force them to cooperate as long as she kept them moving. Watching her anguish was killing him. He wanted to kiss away her fears, offer to take her pain and suffer in her place. She wasn’t going to talk to him— it was obvious. He was so sick of this invisible barrier between them. His secret job, her secret past… it was frustrating as hell.

  See, this is why love doesn’t work. It’s too hard.

  Rick remembered how his mom took off when he was a little kid, turning his dad into a total bastard, alone with three sons to raise. Right now, Rick didn’t know who was right— his dad or his brother Brandon, who thought that their dad was full of shit and that Rick needed to let love happen whenever it presented itself. The two arguments played over in his head.

  Don’t let ‘em get to you son. They’ll tear your goddamn heart out. You remember that.

  Dad, and Kyle… god Rick, I didn’t want to hear their bullshit. I don’t feel the same way dad does. Not all women are like mom.

  He dropped his head into his hands, massaging his aching forehead. Rick was so fucking confused. Brandon sounded happy being in love, but god, his dad would think Rick was such a pussy if he could see him now, all broken up over a woman who already did exactly what his dad said she would do one day… leave.

  That didn’t stop Rick from wanting her and it definitely didn’t make him feel any better. He hated that his dad was right, couldn’t deny what Quinn did. Although, she was back and trying to repair whatever they had left, which was more than his mom ever did. And Brandon— Brandon’s words gave him hope. Hope that maybe he could have something great and be happy with a woman someday.

  Trying to be subtle, Rick shifted, hi
s confused cock starting to fill again simply from Quinn sitting with her warm thigh pressed against his. Much too late, he realized that inviting her inside was not a good idea. His body and his pride were too broken for what his dick desperately sought.

  He coughed, needing her to either start talking or leave before his resolve broke and he led her to Dane’s guest bedroom, thus ending any chance at preserving his dignity… or his stitches. “Quinn? You were going to tell me what happened outside?”

  Quinn reclined until her head was resting on the back cushion of the couch. She began speaking softly, so softly Rick had to tilt his head closer in order to hear.

  “After I left home, I went to Texas A&M.”

  “You went to college?” Rick smiled even though Quinn couldn’t see it. He knew she was smart. It was nice to have it confirmed.

  “Yes. I have the first two years done of my computer engineering degree. It sounds silly, but I wanted to be a forensic computer specialist… a professional hacker. I was good, but—I didn’t finish.” She kept staring at the ceiling, unwilling to look at him.

  Rick watched, enthralled, as an adorable blush stained her cheeks. “Don’t be embarrassed about dropping out. Just getting as far as you did is a big deal. I went straight into the Marines, so college was never even on my radar.”

  For some reason, the image of Quinn as a hacker popped into his head She was sleek and sexy, dressed all in black, hunched over a massive bank of computers. The thought made his cock get even harder.

  Just when I think she can’t get sexier, she tells me something like that and I nearly burst in my pants.

  “Anyway, my dad died while I was away at school and I pretty much gave up.”

  Quinn opened her mouth to continue, then changed her mind, mashing her lips into a straight line. Rick wanted to push her, to make her tell him whatever was on the tip of her tongue, but he didn’t. It was obvious that she was leaving something out of her story. But he figured it wouldn’t help his case to demand answers, so there was no point in getting upset. In fact, he needed to get rid of her before he did something stupid, like kissing her senseless and getting slapped in the face or worse— causing her to have another panic attack.

  “You seem to be feeling better from your uh, panic attack. Probably good enough to drive home now.” He watched her cringe again at his forced callousness.

  Great, turning back into that asshole Ricochet again.

  Quinn twisted towards him, those damn haunting eyes of hers filled with so many questions, probably about his bizarre hot and cold behavior. The look on her face was so heart wrenching he nearly fell to her feet and begged her to let him love her.

  Christ, he really was losing it.

  No. They weren’t in too deep yet. It was better to put an end to it here and now than to have a messy separation later on down the road. Quinn already proved that she didn’t want a commitment to him, and he proved in the past that he wasn’t a commitment type of guy. They both got what they wanted, one night of hot sex. So what if he thought he felt something else or if Brandon put crazy ideas in his head? It was probably just his imagination or the painkillers he had been taking that made him feel that way.

  Unfortunately, Rick couldn’t even make himself believe his own bullshit. What he had felt, what he still felt was real. There was no other explanation. He was hopelessly in love with Quinn Wallace.

  Fuck.

  Acknowledging it made his stomach flip. Beside him, Quinn jumped to her feet, all but sprinting to the door. After his rude dismissal, she wanted to get away from him. He didn’t stand a chance in hell at getting her back after his schizophrenic behavior today.

  Why do I feel like I’m about to lose everything? I’m a trained killer, a fucking badass mercenary who parachutes into enemy camps in the dark of night, and this tiny girl can bring me to my knees with a single look.

  The thought of not being with Quinn was painful, like a bullet to the heart, or to his lower quadrant as it was in this case. It was too much to endure. Rick limped after her, favoring his side as he walked. “Quinn!”

  God, could I possibly be anymore confusing? Wanting her one minute and shunning her the next?

  Quinn yanked open the front door, stopping when he called out her name.

  “What is it Rick?” She sounded tired, exhausted actually, her posture defeated.

  When he reached her, Rick held on to the doorframe for support, close enough to touch Quinn. The itch to reach out was overwhelming. The memory of that soft skin sliding beneath his body was in the forefront of his mind. As much as he wanted her, Rick chickened out, shoving his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t skim his fingers down her cheek. “I—I’ll see you at work.”

  Moisture glistened behind her large eyes, her long lashes damp with unshed tears. “Yeah, sure,” she whispered, right before hastily turning and walking to the street.

  Rick closed the front door, leaning heavily against the thick wood.

  What is Quinn not telling me?

  She wasn’t ready for this, for a relationship with Rick, she all but admitted it. Hell, he obviously wasn’t ready for it. He let her go, he had to. He would stay away from her from now on. It was the right thing to do.

  So why did it feel so fucking wrong?

  Chapter 6

  Quinn didn’t remember driving home from Dane’s house after she all but ran away from Rick… again. No, that wasn’t right. This time, he pushed her away. His behavior was so erratic, almost unbalanced, that Quinn didn’t have any clue what he wanted from her.

  Even though her mind agreed it was for the best that they didn’t pursue anything, it still shattered her heart. At one point, she was crying so hard in the truck, she was surprised to find she made it back to her apartment above Sanctum in one piece. After a few shots of vodka and convincing herself she was better off without Rick, she calmed down enough to flop into bed, managing to catch a few hours of sleep before another long day at work.

  Sitting at her desk with a giant cup of coffee, Quinn made a fourth attempt to input some figures into a simple spreadsheet. Frustrated beyond belief, she kept messing up, unable to focus on anything except her blinding headache and Rick’s dejected expression when he asked her to leave Dane’s house.

  Quinn hadn’t expected Rick to want her back after what she did. But she had expected he’d be less confused, angry one minute then showing his desire for her the next. Even as he showed her to the door she could sense how undecided he was about how he felt.

  Quinn knew that it wasn’t fair to give Rick only half of the explanation for her disappearance. He gave her a chance to confess her past with Travis, to justify her reasons for running away, and she blew it. She would have to live with that, she couldn’t let him see how weak she was with Travis. Didn’t want him to know how she had let herself fall the victim. It was humiliating. Once Rick knew, he would always see her as a pathetic, abused wife, and that was something she couldn’t live with. She wanted Rick to be with her because he cared, not because he thought she was damaged goods that needed fixing.

  Weary, Quinn rubbed her eyes, determined to get those damn figures into the damn spreadsheet sometime before lunch. She was so intent on finishing, that she didn’t hear the front door open or the footsteps of the man who crossed the lobby to lean against her desk.

  “Hey Quinn. How’s it going?”

  Quinn nearly jumped out of her skin when Dane spoke from directly in front of her desk.

  “Jesus, Dane. I didn’t hear you come in. How is it that all of you huge men are so quiet when you walk? It’s creepy.”

  Dane gave her an odd look, his rich brown eyes nearly black as he looked at her. Squirming under the scrutiny, Quinn pretended to move things around on her desk to escape the discomfort of the man’s intense stare.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn saw Dane shake his head and heard a small chuckle as he dismissed whatever thoughts he had.

  “Can I help you, Dane?” she asked without lookin
g up.

  “I’m just making sure you’re having a good day, Quinn. That’s all.”

  Quinn’s eyes darted up to the waist-high counter in front of her desk where Dane was drumming his thick fingers rhythmically over the surface. She felt her neck heat up, the air suddenly very hot in the normally over-air conditioned lobby. Over his shoulder, Quinn saw the interior door closing and caught a glimpse of what she thought was Rick’s shirt as it went through the small opening right before the door shut tight.

  “Really?” she responded, keeping her face as neutral as possible as she stared at Dane, not wanting the large man to see her upset. “You’re just here to check on my day?”

  Did Rick actually get Dane to chat me up so he could sneak inside without speaking to me?

  The thought made Quinn’s heart hurt. Was he so upset by her that he would rather avoid her completely than have to tolerate another conversation?

  Unfortunately, Dane saw right through her attempt to act unmoved. His reaction shocked the hell out of her. He burst out laughing, throwing his head back as if Quinn were the funniest person in the world. “Right, right. You don’t know anything about why I’m standing here, not a thing. You’re hysterical Quinn.” His eyes flicked to the closed door that Rick disappeared behind. Dane gave Quinn his biggest smile before swiping his badge and disappearing into the gym.

  Jesus, these guys are worse than a bunch of high school girls gossiping in front of their lockers. He knows damn well that Rick is avoiding me today, and he knows that I know and he thinks it’s funny. Screw you Dane!

  Quinn forced herself to brush off the incident with Dane and Rick, doing her best to focus on work and make it through the day unscathed. The trainers, led by Dane no doubt, apparently had other ideas, because every single guy who was at the gym that day made it his personal mission to check on Quinn at least once. Certainly, it was meant to distract her from any attempts to talk to Rick, not that she wanted to after his immature avoidance tactic.