Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC) (21 page)

“That’s it,” Brooks snaps. Milo yelps as my biker boy grabs
him by the scruff of the neck and drop kicks him out the front door. Milo beats
a quick retreat as Brooks slams the door behind him, his hands balled into
furious fists. We listen in silence as Milo’s car peels away into the night.
But even though he’s gone, the harm he’s done remains.

“Brooks,” I say quietly, setting my gun down on the couch,
“Let me explain—”

“Yeah. That’d be a good place to start,” he replies, looking
at me with hard eyes.

“Milo was telling the truth,” I say, my heart pounding, “My
real name isn’t Keira Campbell. It’s Quinn Collins. I’m...I’m an FBI agent.”

A long moment of silence passes between us, swelling to fill
the entire apartment. Brooks is as still as the statue he resembles, processing
my news. I barrel on, ripping off the Band-Aid—or rather, the tourniquet.

“I work in the cyber department,” I rush on, “I was sent to
investigate CrowdedNest as part of a larger investigation into Dante’s Nine and
the Devil’s Wraiths. I was never supposed to even meet any of the actual
members, but then—”

“You’ve been investigating me?” Brooks asks, his voice
pulsing with rage.

“No!” I exclaim, “You were never my target. This thing with
you...it just happened, and I wanted it so badly—”

“Why are you telling me all this?” he says, pacing around
the living room like a caged lion. “Why not deny it?”

“Because I have reason to believe that the other agent
working the case is trying to set you guys up,” I say quickly. “He’s trying to
take down the MC’s on contrived evidence. He’s the one who’s after me. That’s what
I wanted to tell you earlier tonight, before we got...distracted. I’m shifting
my investigation on to him to try and stop whatever he’s cooking up. I don’t
think the FBI has it right. I guess I’ve...gone rogue. Or something.”

Brooks stares at me from across the room, his sharp jaw
hanging open. After a moment, he snaps it back into place, takes a breath, and
strides into my kitchen. He swings open my fridge and grabs a couple of beers.

“Here,” he says gruffly, tossing me a bottle, “we’re going
to need these.”

“What?” I sputter, “Why—”

“Just drink your damn beer and tell me everything,” he says,
leaning heavily against the kitchen doorframe. “Start at the beginning.”

And because I have no choice, and because I’ve secretly been
dying to come clean to Brooks all along...I do.

“To begin with,” I say softly, “My name is Quinn Collins.
I’m from Allentown, Pennsylvania. And I’m a special agent of the Federal Bureau
of Investigation.”

By the time I’ve walked Brooks through the entire sprawling
saga of my involvement with this case, the sun is beginning to brighten the sky
beyond the apartment’s windows. Brooks doesn’t say much, save to ask for
clarification when I resort to FBI jargon. It’s impossible to read his mood,
his response to all of this. Throughout my story, his expression is like a slab
of blank stone. When I spit out the last few words of my truth, a long moment
of silence stretches between us, heavy and moving.

Brooks takes a sip of beer—his third since we’ve started
this marathon of divulgence. He paces slowly around the apartment, his eyes
alighting on my things—clues about who I really am. My heart catches as he
stops in front of my dresser and picks up the framed photo of my brother,
Brandon.

“I already met one ex tonight,” Brooks says gruffly, “Is
this the
current
Mr.
Quinn Collins, or—?”

“That’s a Collins, all right,” I smile weakly, “But not like
you’re thinking. That’s my little brother, Brandon.”

“Does your brother know about this double life thing?”
Brooks asks. “Does anyone in your family know that you’re here?”

“I don’t really speak to my parents. And Bran certainly
doesn’t know,” I say, averting my eyes. “He was killed, a few years back.”

I hear Brooks suck in a pained breath. “Shit,” he mutters,
setting down the frame, “I’m sorry Keir—Quinn.”

“It’s OK,” I shrug. “I mean...it’s not
OK
, obviously. I live with
it every day. For a while, I used his death as a means of pushing myself. You
know, to distract from the pain. I joined the FBI because of him. Thought that
if I made something of my life, contributed something to society, I could
somehow justify what happened to him.”

“What did happen to him?” Brooks asks softly.

“Got caught in the crossfire between some cops and gang members
back in Philly,” I reply. “When it happened, I immediately blamed the gang.
Assumed that the cops were just doing their jobs, trying to make the city
safer. But after everything that’s happened with this case...I don’t know
anymore. The whole law and order thing seems a bit shakier than it used to,
that’s for sure.”

“That’s why you were so cold at first, isn’t it?” Brooks
asks, joining me on the couch. “You thought that Dante’s Nine was just another
gang? That we were just like the thugs that were involved with your brother’s
death?”

“Exactly,” I whisper. “But Brooks...you have to believe me
when I tell you that I know better, now. I know that you guys have more honor,
more loyalty, than any fed I’ve ever met. I’m so fucking confused about this
whole thing. I’m just—I hope you can forgive me. For not telling you the truth
sooner.”

Brooks swings his green eyes my way. He studies me, the cogs
of his mind turning. My breath is caught in my throat as I wait for him to
speak. If I lose my faith in justice as I’ve always known it and Brooks all at
once...I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Finally, Brooks glances down at my hand, resting on the
couch. He lowers his own hand to mine, lacing our fingers together. The simple
gesture nearly starts me sobbing. I’m so relieved. He looks at me with knowing
sadness brimming in his gorgeous eyes.

“It makes so much sense now,” he says, his voice hoarse.
“Why we understand each other so well, I mean.”

“What, you’re secretly undercover, too?” I laugh hollowly.

“No,” he chuckles sadly, shaking his head, “but I’ve lost
people, just like you.”

I gently squeeze his fingers, waiting for him to go on.
Brooks isn’t exactly accustomed to talking about himself, his past. Certainly
not his emotions. He’s got to go at his own pace. Finally, with a deep breath,
his turns to me and continues.

“You know I was in the Navy with Declan,” he starts. “Well,
I didn’t end up there by chance. My dad did the same thing, when he was a young
guy. Growing up, I always knew he served as an aviation mechanic. It sounded so
cool to me, as a little kid. So I begged him to groom me for the job. He taught
me everything he knew, set me up for life. I think it was a relief for him,
having something so solid he could do for me. Something so direct. It was just
the two of us, me and Dad. If we hadn’t had the mechanic thing in common...It
would have been tough.”

“Where was your mom?” I ask softly.

“Fuck if I know,” Brooks scoffs. “She was a junkie. In and
out of rehab the whole time I knew her, which wasn’t long. Dad would never talk
about it, but I think she ran off with some other guy. I was only ten years old
when she left. After everything my dad did for her...Let’s just say I had a bit
of trouble trusting women after that.”

“Which is why you don’t like to play games,” I nod.

“Yeah,” Brooks says, “Pretty much.”

I swallow hard. Lying about my identity probably didn’t do
much to dismantle his trust issues. But this isn’t about me. I force my
attention back to Brooks as he goes on.

“My dad wasn’t without his vices,” he continues, fixing his eyes
on the wall straight ahead. “The man loved to drink. Needed to drink. It never
occurred to me until after he was gone that he was an alcoholic. The doctors
told me, after he died, that he’d been suffering from PTSD since his days in
the Navy. Undiagnosed, for years. He passed away while I was overseas. I never
knew how bad it had gotten until it was too late. And through all of that, he
still managed to be a decent father to me. It fucking kills me to know how much
he must have been suffering. I just wish he’d been honest with me. Maybe I
could have helped.”

I rest my hand against Brooks’ back. There’s nothing I can
say that will alleviate that pain in him. All I can do now is listen.

“I was just getting out of the Navy when he died,” he says.
“I went back home to Berkeley, took one look around the house we’d shared, and
knew I couldn’t stay. I needed something completely different, a clean slate.
It was right then that Declan reached out to me about coming to Vegas. We
hadn’t seen each other for years, and in the meantime, he’d found Dante’s Nine.
He was happy there, he told me. The club was like a family, and he knew I
needed that more than anything. I walked away from my old life and moved out
here to become a member myself. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Well...the second best thing.”

A knot twists in my throat as Brooks turns toward me on the
couch, taking my hands in his. His eyes are fierce with purpose, and I cling to
his every word.

“I never thought I’d meet a woman who could understand me. A
woman I could trust and be honest with. The only girls I’d been with before you
were one-night stands, casual, no strings attached. But you...you’ve changed
all that.”

“But I lied to you,” I whisper, “about who I am, what I do—”

“And then you came clean,” he cuts me off. “Sure, it wasn’t
the ideal way to find out. I could have done without meeting that idiot ex of
yours. But you’ve told me everything, now. Haven’t you?”

“Yes. Everything,” I say.

“Even though your career, your livelihood, your entire life
depend on my not knowing who you are?” he presses.

“I...hadn’t thought of it that way,” I say. “Honestly...all
of my attachments, everything I’ve ever defined myself by...it all feels in
flux now. It’s like you’re the only real thing in my life, the only thing I
care about protecting. Holding onto.”

“I know the feeling,” he says, taking me at once into his
arms. His face is inches from my own, his breath warm on my lips. “So we both
have pasts,” he growls, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m pretty sure
that only makes us human. You say there’s some fucker out there trying to hurt
you? Well, I’m not going to let that happen. I don’t care if you’re Keira
Campbell or Quinn Collins, to me you’re just Red.
My
Red.”

“You forgive me then?” I breathe, wrapping my arms around
his shoulders.

“Forgive you?” he says. “You’re going rouge to make sure my
brothers and I don’t get taken down by some psycho with cooked-up evidence.
You’re putting everything on the line to keep my family safe. I should be
throwing you a fucking parade, Red.”

“I’m not sure that the others will see it that way,” I tell
him.

“We’ll worry about them later,” Brooks says, planting a
searing kiss just below my jawline. I curve into him, relief coursing through
my entire body. I thought he’d hate me, once he discovered the truth. But
look—it’s only brought us closer.

“It really is you and me against the world, isn’t it?” I
laugh, writhing as his lips trail along my neck, across my chest.

“You fucking bet it is,” he smiles, brazenly confident in
spite of it all. “And you know what Red? I like those odds.”

I cry out in surprised glee as Brooks presses me back
against the couch, his eyes sparking with lust.

“I have to say, I’m pretty impressed with how well you’re
taking all this,” I say.

“So you’re a fed. So what? I’m a damaged loner, there’s some
crazy asshole out to get you and my club,” Brooks says, running his hands up
along my bare legs. “You don’t honestly think I’m gonna let
that
stop us from being
together?”

“Shouldn’t we be formulating a plan? Discussing our
strategy—?” I ask, propping myself up on my forearms.

“It can wait until morning,” Brooks growls, kneeling over
me.

“It
is
morning,” I remind him, jerking my head at the window. The sky outside is just
beginning to glow with daylight.

Brooks parts my knees with firm hands, fitting his
staggering body into the space between my legs. “Then it can wait until I’ve
had my fill of you,” he says, sliding those irresistible hands up under my
shirt, “What do you say, Red?”

I moan in response as Brooks cups my breasts, pinching my
nipples just hard enough to send a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

“I guess you have a point,” I gasp, arching my back as he
kisses along my hip bone. “Can’t really talk logistics while insanely horny,
right?”

“Right,” Brooks grins, tearing my shirt up over my head.

We’ve already stopped one bad guy tonight, haven’t we? We
deserve to blow off some steam. Then we’ll set our sights on the real villain:
Jeff Bruno. Alone, I may not have been a match for my devious fellow fed. But
with Brooks by my side, who knows what’s possible? We’ve been a pretty
incredible team so far. And if we’re half as good at fighting corruption as we
are at blowing each other’s minds in bed, Bruno doesn’t stand a chance.