Read Quinn I (Undaunted Men #1) Online

Authors: J.C. Cliff

Tags: #romance, #military, #men, #badass

Quinn I (Undaunted Men #1) (29 page)

“Yeah.” I tentatively smile back at him. I tell him what he wants to hear, because I have a feeling he’d argue until the cows came home if I didn’t relent.

“You won’t regret this. I promise you.”
 

No, but I have a feeling he would. Quinn doesn’t know the mafia life, and he doesn’t know the things Vince would do to him just for touching me.
He can’t win every fight.
He got lucky with the ambush; next time might not go so well. He's already showed me what he's capable of by finding me out in the middle of nowhere.
 

“Damn, I can’t believe how tired I am,” he comments as he stretches his arms out wide. Sadly, that would be because I had given him a sleeping pill. It seems all I ever do is run away from my problems, but he’s keeping secrets, big ones, and I’ve got a bad feeling about them. I have to get away. I should have never hooked up with Quinn, and I should have stuck to my original plans.

I had overheard Quinn talking on a phone earlier today of all things. A phone! You could imagine my surprise to find out he had one, a special one at that. It looked like a camouflaged Walkie-Talkie, and it seemed he had perfect reception. Needless to say, I was a little ticked over the fact he had a phone, kept it a secret from me, and yet still held mine captive. What was up with that? Because if memory served me correctly, he got downright upset when he caught me talking on my own phone, and I had no idea why.

Quinn thought I was taking a nap this afternoon, but when I couldn’t sleep, I went looking for him. I didn’t have to search very far. When I found him, Kimber was taking a snooze at his feet, and she didn’t care to stir awake. Perhaps it was because of our familiarity; I don’t know. His back was to me, and he was gesturing with his hand as if he were talking to someone. I thought he was talking to himself, or having a one-on-one with a sleeping Kimber. So, of course, I wanted to sneak up on him to hear what he was saying. Who wouldn’t?

I guess because he’s such a big guy, his voice was naturally loud which in turn made his tone carry. It was lucky for me, because I could hear him just fine at a distance and stay hidden from sight. It wasn’t until he turned his head that I saw the phone pressed against his ear, and that’s when Quinn was telling whomever was on the other end of the conversation that he
“had me.”
Then he bellowed with laughter as if ‘having’ me was a joke. Then he said,
“I got this under control. Yes, I have her under my spell, no worries.”
 
The things he was saying were not the things you’d say if one was fondly referring to a new relationship status. It sounded as if this was a game of sorts to him. I know things can be misconstrued by listening to only one side of a discussion, but it was
the way
he was saying things that kind of hurt.
 

“Shut up man. She’s not going to find out, I’ve got all my bases covered to ensure that won’t happen. She has no clue, and I intend to keep it that way.”
At those words, an uneasiness washed over me. I was barely breathing by this point, not wanting my ears to strain any harder than they had to in order to hear what he was planning on saying next.
 

“I’ve already sealed the deal. I’m so smooth, I’ve got her eating out of my hands.”
I was a deal to be sealed? I began to internally freak out as I tried to digest the fact he was telling someone with utter seriousness he thought he had me unequivocally in a blasé manner. It felt as if what we had shared was suddenly one big hoax, full of deception.
   

“I finally got her to the point where she trusts me so you just let me be the one to worry about how I need to continue to keep her in check.”
Mother-effer, my heart slammed to a full stop and the blood drained from my face.
He was keeping me subdued? Was I something to be conquered?
My body went numb and tingly; my veins began to throb in protest, needing oxygen and blood flow. I didn’t know what to think about this turn of events.
 

I drilled my eyes into the back of his skull, and I thought at any moment, he would feel my heated glare. He never did turn around, but he had gone quiet for a while, and I assumed he was being attentive to what the other person had to say. He ran his free hand through his hair, and then left it there on top of his head as he listened intently.

When he spoke again, he had let out a loud, frustrated sigh, and then stretched out his arm, waving it around as if he was arguing with the forest trees.
“Dude, I gave her my angel pendant for fuck sake - women love that shit. It makes them feel the commitment.”
 
He took pause, listening again; then he said with irritation,
“So let her get mad when she finds out about me. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d have to deal with a pissed off female. Trust me, even if she found out, I’ve got her in my back pocket. I’m certain she won’t be running away from me anytime soon. Anyway, by the time she discovers the truth, it’ll be too late.”

I had almost let out an involuntary high pitched squeak of distress. I pressed my trembling hand over my mouth to hold back the sounds of gut wrenching turbulence that wanted to escape my lungs.
 

Am I destined to never have a man?
All I ever wanted by this point in my life was to have a loving husband and a kid or two, but Vince was always finding a way to step in and pulverize my every dream. Now it was Quinn who was doing the manipulation and taking its meaning to an entirely new level. I must be a magnet for crazy men.

After the punch to the gut, I had quit listening, his voice had turned into a drone. When it sounded like the conversation was coming to a close, I had to shake myself from my stunned stupor, and then I snuck back to our little camp in a daze. I feigned sleep when he returned, and I wasn’t right the rest of the day.

Quinn knew something was up when I wasn’t acting like myself so I pretended to have stomach cramps, which wasn’t a total lie. I did feel sick to my stomach. All the emotions and the intimacies we had shared…there were no words to describe the heartache and hollow feeling in my chest. Hell, I don’t even know his last name. And here I was concerned the entire time we’ve been together about his safety and trying to keep him from encountering Vince. Instead, Quinn had encountered my heart, and then crushed it. I had played his words over and over in my head for the rest of the day. The little hairs on my arms are still standing on end from his earlier conversation.
 

I left my backpack fully packed on purpose before we settled into bed. As astute as Quinn is, I was surprised he hadn't noticed this and asked questions. Quinn tries to stifle another yawn and fails. He stretches out his arms, expanding his broad chest, and I have the urge to snuggle against his warmth, because dammit, I cared. I’m confused, hurt, and angry, and part of me should feel really bad for drugging him. I know he'll be fine; it’s not like I gave him a harmful drug.

I had brought a few prescription bottles along with me, one of them being Ambien, which was prescribed for me to help me sleep on those rare occasions when I'm under deadlines at work and too stressed to sleep. They put me out fast, and I know these pills work their magic on any body weight, because I had given one to Connor once when he was having trouble sleeping. He didn't last but thirty minutes before he was out like a light, and he weighs between sixty to seventy more pounds than I do.

Since day one, Quinn had always been such a light sleeper, and I will need all the help I can get to sneak off without him waking up. I know he wouldn’t stand for me leaving him. Obviously, because from the sound of his afternoon phone discussion, he was boasting about how I wouldn’t take off. I would be a fool to stay and see how his secrets would unfold while I continued to risk my heart, and in the end watch it burst like shattered glass. The thought of
it being too late
when I found out whatever it was I wasn’t supposed to discover, gives me the chills. I don’t want to hang around to find out what demise awaits for me.
 

And for some crazy-assed reason, one I can’t identify, he’s hell bent on protecting me. Maybe it's all part of his game to steal my heart and then do god-knows-what with it. If we didn’t have chemistry, I’d be concerned that he’d be stalker material, but the man makes me feel safer than I’ve ever felt before. My head hurts just thinking about this messed up situation. Frustrated, I shake my head free of the conflicting thoughts, and tell myself I will be fine once I'm rid of the drama.
 

Quinn picks up on my tense body language. He runs his hand along my arm and sleepily asks, “How’s your stomach, babe? You okay?”

I swallow the lump in my throat and force out an even, steady tone, “Yeah, my stomach is doing much better.”

“Good.” Quinn then drags my body into his and spoons me as he kisses behind my ear. “You’re lucky I’m dragging ass, or I’d take you from behind right now.”

My voice sounds playful, even though I am anything but. “Your old man colors are shining through,” I tease him.

He growls into my ear and then nips my lobe. “Ow,” I yelp, swatting him away.

“Be nice,” he murmurs. He skims his fingers over my nipple then pinches it between his fingers. I gasp, and then grow irritated with myself over the fact he can still affect me. “This old man can still make you scream his name.”

“I don’t deny that,” I reply.
 

He kisses the outer shell of my ear then rests his head on his makeshift pillow, and says, “Goodnight, Angel.”

“Goodnight, Quinn.” My heart squeezes, knowing this will be the last time I’ll ever see him. I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry over all the chaos and hurt.
 

I pray I don't fall asleep before he does, because I’m tired. The stresses of knowing I’d been played, plus the scheming of not wanting to get caught in the process has been exhausting. Despite the earlier phone conversation, it almost feels like I'm betraying him.

I hold onto him a little tighter and breathe him in, wanting to commit him to memory, but know the second I step away I’ll forget what he smells and feels like. I soak in his warmth, and my stomach sinks when he runs his fingers lightly over my arm, sending a trail of goose bumps erupting in their wake. Is this all an act? Because damned if his intentions don’t feel genuine. I close my eyes and savor the last hour I’ll have with him.

My eyes bolt open in a panic. Oh, crap, I fell asleep. I hold still as my gaze flicks over the night sky, and relax when I realize it's the middle of the night. I listen intently for Quinn’s soft snoring, and when I hear his measured breaths, my heartbeat begins to calm. I glance at the fire pit, and it’s still going pretty strong, crackling and making noises every now and then. Everything looks like it's a go ahead.

The flames provide enough light for me to move around and find my boots. I plan on putting them on after I get a decent distance away. I need to be as stealthy as possible.
 

“What are you doing, baby?” Quinn sleepily mumbles.

Startled, my heart slams to a halt, no longer beating. Thankfully, my response comes out on autopilot, “I’m just going to the bathroom,” I whisper, “go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.” He rolls over and settles back down, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I go ahead and put on hiking boots, because he’s probably expecting to hear me rustling with movement as I put them on. I’ll just have to be quiet about lifting my backpack up and onto my shoulders. I’ll be losing my sleeping bag, but I have a lot of clothes and my one-man tent.

Quinn has taught me a lot over the last week about hiking and camping in the wilderness, including survival skills, so I'm confident I can pull this off. My main concern is he knows where I’m supposed to surface, but now that I’ve studied and understand how to read the maps better, I can choose somewhere else and go from there. That will throw him off.

Kimber is warm and cozy, lying in a curled ball at the end of Quinn’s feet. My stomach clenches at the thought of what I’m doing, but I know it’s for the best. I pet Kimber on her head and quietly tell her to stay. She probably thinks I’m going to the bathroom too, because she doesn’t even lift her head.

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