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He is trying despite our difficult circumstance. None of this is easy for him. Our new relationship. Our predicament. I worry that he’ll snap—and that just adds more pressure on me to find the answer to make this all end.
It’s a vicious cycle.
I rub my arm across my forehead and curse. As I head toward my bag, I unwrap my knuckles and make a fist. My fingers are swollen and bruised. I didn’t think this training through. It’s important, yes, but to what extent if I can’t hold a scalpel properly?
Just one more thing to hate the Alpha for. Living in fear, a constant state of adrenaline depletion, is becoming exhausting. When I’m not working, I’m crashed out in my house that’s now fully equipped with a state of the art security system.
Or I stay at Quinn’s, which is what he prefers, and as much as I hate to admit it, that’s the only time I’m able to settle into a deep sleep. And I sleep like the dead. I laugh to myself at the morbid joke. I never envied the subjects on my slab before now.
I pull my thermal over my head, catching a glimpse of a black object in my bag. I dig it out. “Shit.” As Quinn heads for the exit, I march his way, holding the device up. “A tracker? Really?”
He stops without turning around. His shoulders slump. Busted. “I told you—”
“And I told you that I won’t be treated like I’m in fucking witness protection.”
He faces me, bringing his full, six-foot frame to tower over me. “It’s not for you, it’s for me.” He brushes the backs of his fingers down my arm.
“Quinn, I get it, I do…” I push out a breath, letting my anger dissolve. “But if I let this happen…then I’m not even living.” I look up at him. “I’m just waiting for the worst to happen.”
“I have to go.” He cups the back of my head, placing a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Just think about it. That’s all I ask.”
He stalks off, leaving me fighting for breath. I’ve put him through so much, and yet, I can’t willingly submit to this life where my every move is monitored.
I sling my bag over my shoulder. A pang of remorse for his situation hits my chest. There’s more on his troubled mind than my dire situation. Though the arrest warrant for Maddox happened quickly, the task force has been ineffective in capturing their suspect.
The hunt continues.
Only Quinn and I suspect the truth as to why Maddox cannot be found.
While the task force searches tirelessly for a lawyer on the run, Quinn combs the city and its outskirts for a body.
For Quinn’s sake, I hope they discover Maddox alive.
Lesson three: defend what’s yours at all costs.
If Quinn continues on like this, he could self-destruct. I consider Quinn mine—and I plan to defend him, even against himself.
2
Destruct
Quinn
Every person I pass is a possible suspect. Every pair of eyes I meet belongs to the Alpha.
Paranoia eats away my senses, dulling my instinct. My logic is defunct. Last week, when a forensic tech tapped me on the shoulder, I grabbed his hand and backed him against a wall. I threatened him with a fist to his face. Blinding rage coupled with paranoia is a lethal combination.
I walk through the ACPD halls wary of my own mind. Questioning my sanity. After that incident, the captain suggested I take a leave of absence.
Not happening.
Not when I suspect one of our own.
During The Firm operation, I questioned—we all questioned—just how far up and how vast the Alpha’s reach went. Even then, I didn’t believe that reach could extend into my own department.
But Carson was leaking privy information to the press for a price. Sadie has stalked and killed perpetrators outside of the law. Avery—the woman I love—has doctored a COD report to conceal her abductor’s murder.
These are the people I know—have worked beside every day for years. The team members I trust with my life.
