Rise of the Notorious (29 page)

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Linc snapped.

“Stop being a jackass, I’m trying to help you,” Cy shot back angrily, the booze slurring his words and adding to his foul mood. “I don’t have to say anything. I could just go home right now and get back to my life. God knows I’m fucking sick of this city.”

Linc laughed. “Then why are you hanging around? It’s not like you contribute anything.”

Grant watched the indignant flush creep over Cy’s face as he turned to him instead of Linc. “Look, I’m not accusing Duke of anything. All I’m saying is he’s letting his beef with Madison go to his head.”

“Do you think he took Kennedy?” Grant asked, eyes sharpening dangerously.

Cy shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

Grant shot a dark look at his brother, unsure what to think.

“Since Madison’s press conference, he’s been nothing but supportive,” Grant reasoned, turning back to Cy.

“That’s how he acts around
you
guys,” Cy informed him, waving his beer restlessly. “But when it’s just me, he can’t stop talking about her. He’s pretty much obsessed.”

“Obsessed how?” Linc asked doubtfully, eyes narrowed.

Cy let out a long, unsteady sigh. “The way he’s been talking, it’s like he’s got it out for her. He wants her gone.”

An uneasy lump formed in Grant’s throat as he remembered his words to the detective.

This person does not want Madison in charge.

“You sure you
don’t want me to sit up front? I can keep you company,” Quinn said with a cheerful smile to the driver of Grant’s car.

The driver laughed. “That’s alright, Miss Taylor. I’ll put on some good music for us and we can rock out.”

“Sweet.” She winked at him as she slid into the backseat of the town car. The driver shut the door as she buckled her seatbelt.

He started up the car and switched on her favorite Motown station. She immediately started singing along with the Temptations as the car pulled away from the curb.

It was late in the evening, so the traffic was light and the streets were damp from the rain that had been falling most of the day. Quinn stared out the window, admiring the bright lights of the city as she made her way home.

She wondered what Grant’s cousin had to say that was so important. If he knew where Kennedy was, then hopefully the ordeal would soon be over. Knowing Grant was suffering under the weight of both guilt and anxiety made her feel helpless, useless to do anything to help ease his mind. Other than remaining positive. That was really all she could do.

Until his sister was home safe, their world would remain completely upside down.

“Hey, Sam, you wanna stop and get some ice cream?” Quinn asked suddenly, leaning forward in her seat. “My treat.”

He smiled at her in the rearview mirror, brown eyes dancing. “My wife’s got me on a diet. But we can stop for you if you’d like?”

She pouted, though her voice was playful. “It’s not fun to eat dessert alone.”

Before he could respond, they approached an intersection with a red light. She heard a thud as his foot drove the brake right into the floor. He tried to brake again, but the car kept moving into the intersection at full speed.

There was only a fleeting moment to panic before the town car ran the light. Quinn stared out the side window just in time to see the headlights coming straight for her, oddly slow and surreal. Her mind had a split second to process the situation, and her eyes widened as she lifted her arms to shield her face.

The crash hit with the horrendous sound of squealing tires and scraping metal. In a flash, the world collapsed into darkness.

S
o, let me get this straight,” Linc began, his hands clenching into fists as he glared at his cousin. “Duke’s been bitching about Mads lately, and you jump to the conclusion that he’s purposely hurting the family in order to get back at her?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Cy groaned, rubbing his face in his hands wearily. “I just wanted to do the right thing and tell you to keep an eye on him. I don’t want this on my shoulders anymore.”

“So how do we know that you’re not just leading us to Duke in order to cover your own tracks?” Linc accused. “Because I’m more likely to believe you’re capable of this shit than Duke is. He’s just not that stupid.”

Cy shook his head with a tired laugh. “Fine, don’t believe me. I don’t give a shit.” He stared down at the beer in his hands miserably, his vision hazed and his mouth set in a drunken scowl.

Grant shot Linc a warning look before eyeing his cousin. “Do you know where Kennedy is, Cy?”

Cy’s head shot up and his face contorted furiously. “No! And I don’t know who took her, either.”

Linc sighed. “Right. Well, I’m going to go home now. This has been a waste of time.” He got to his feet unceremoniously, nodding to his brother. “C’mon, Grant.”

Grant’s eyes remained on his cousin, his mind turning over all the angles of what Cy had told them. While his brother couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that a family member could do what had been done, Grant held no such delusions. Even if Cy was lying or was wrong in his assumptions, Grant wouldn’t take the chance.

Because while some of the press leaks and accusations could be linked back to Shaw and Jorja, there were still others that had no suspect, including Kennedy’s disappearance.

Was Duke responsible?

He nodded to Cy as he got to his feet and followed Linc out of the bar, grateful to get out into the quiet lobby where he could hear himself think.

Before they got very far, his cell phone went off. He didn’t recognize the caller ID as he answered it.

“This is Grant Vasser.”

Linc stopped short and grunted, irritated and moody. He wanted nothing more than to get out and find his sister and stop wasting so much goddamn time theorizing. He needed to act, to do something—anything—to help find her.

He was about to bark at Grant to get off the phone so they could get going, but when he saw his brother’s face go ghostly white, he froze.

The panic in his brother’s eyes at that moment would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded as Grant hung up the phone.

Grant shook his head and started running for the door, out to where Linc’s car was waiting in the valet area.

“Quinn. Car accident. Hospital. Now.” He ripped open the passenger door of the car and hurled himself inside.

Linc got into the driver’s seat, buckling in. “Alright. Hold on.”

He gunned the engine and raced out onto the street, nearly clipping a passing sedan as he went. But he didn’t slow down, weaving around other cars and hurtling toward the nearest hospital. His blood froze with an icy chill as he fought to keep his fear low and his urgency high.

He shot a look over at Grant, and the instant pity he felt put a bitter taste in his mouth. Never in his entire life had he seen his brother look so terrified.

Grant’s face was strained, his eyes set forward in an unseeing stare. His hands clenched over his knees, the knuckles of his fingers white from the pressure.

Though Linc had a million questions, he kept them to himself and focused on driving. At that moment, all that mattered was getting his brother to Quinn as soon as possible.

When they reached the hospital, Grant leapt from the car almost before Linc had parked it, taking off into the check-in area frantically.

He launched himself at the nearest hospital employee sitting behind the counter, his eyes dark and mad with distress.

“Quinn Taylor,” he stammered, unable to think of anything else to say. He watched as the nurse nodded politely at him and typed the name into the computer.

“She’s in room 208. They’re still assessing her injuries.”

Without waiting to hear if he could see her, he took off down the hallway with no clue where the room was. He tore through the halls and up the stairs, plowing down anyone in his way. At last, he stumbled across 208, cursing under his breath as he shoved open the door.

When he charged inside, he spotted her laying in a hospital bed, a nurse tending to a cut on her forehead.

Both the nurse and Quinn glanced up at him.

“Hey, you got here fast.” Quinn smiled, her voice shaky but still cheerfully bright.

Grant stared at her in silence, relief at seeing her alive and whole shuddering through him. He blinked, then turned to the nurse.

“How bad is she hurt?” he asked sternly, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. He moved to the bed, but kept his distance from Quinn.

The nurse looked from him to Quinn, then back again. “Considering the extent of the accident, she’s very lucky. A couple of cracked ribs, a mild concussion, no internal bleeding that we can see so far. Her ankle is sprained from being pinned inside the car. We’re lucky it’s not broken.”

Grant nodded solemnly, fighting to keep his composure as he processed the information. “And my driver, Sam?”

“He’s in critical condition, but the doctors expect him to survive,” the nurse said as she rose to her feet. She smiled down at Quinn courteously. “I’ll just give you two a moment alone.”

She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Quinn watched Grant, confused by his coldness and his distance. Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared down at her hands and fussed with the blue hospital blankets.

“They’re saying I can leave in a few days,” she began, her hands still trembling from the shock of the accident. She wondered if it would ever go away. “But I feel okay; I’ll get back to work before then. I don’t want you to be understaffed when things are so hectic—”

“I don’t care about that,” Grant interrupted brusquely, his hands clenching at his sides.

She looked up at him and the anguish she saw in his eyes staggered her.

It was then that it dawned on her. His fiancé years before had died in a car accident. He must have been reliving all of the same horror, the same pain, the same grief, at that moment.

Understanding had guilt racing through her as she tried to sit up. “Really, Grant, I’m fine. The accident wasn’t that bad.”

But he shook his head, taking in the bandage on her forehead and the way she winced in pain as she tried to move. He couldn’t help but feel this was somehow his fault. If he hadn’t sent her home in his car…

His heart thudded, hot and heavy with remorse, as he knelt down by her bedside and reached for her hands. She stared at him, troubled, as he pressed his lips to her fingers.

“I can’t lose you, too,” he whispered, his eyes closing tight against the fear and the pain. He buried his face in her hands and struggled against the sob that wracked his throat and smoldered in his chest. Once again, he had been so close to losing everything.

Tears ran down Quinn’s cheeks as she watched him, her heart aching. “I’m still here,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He lifted his head to look at her, and the open display of emotion on his face had her breath hitching in her throat.

“Life is so short, Quinn,” he said softly, head shaking. “On the drive over all I could think about was all the time I’ve wasted in my life, with the business—”