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Quin told me he knows exactly where Thomas is, so we’ll be heading there tomorrow. Right now, it’s way too late and we don’t have a plan, so ironing one out and getting rest is important. I would rather get it done now, so the nerves of getting caught go away, but Quin is the mastermind. He knows better than me.
Instead of more sex, I lay on Quin’s chest, listening to the even beats of his heart. It’s steady and strong, not racing at all. He’s not afraid of what will happen tomorrow. I take solace in that, knowing that Quin knows he’ll be successful when he meets Tom.
Quin squeezes my shoulder and kisses my forehead. “What’s on your mind, mouse?”
Blowing out a breath, I drape my leg over his and pull in closer before I answer. “I haven’t been back on this side of the country in almost eight years. Not since I went to university at eighteen. I haven’t seen my parents since the day after my graduation when I flew to stay with my grandfather. I haven’t seen Gil since about six months before that when he came to visit for a day or two. I haven’t seen my family in … a long time.”
“Do you want to? After we get this all straightened out?”
After I think about it for a while, I still don’t have an answer. “I’m not sure. Can I think about it?”
“For as long as you want, baby. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow will be tough.”
Like a good boy, I listen to my Daddy and close my eyes, falling asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, my stomach is a bundle of nerves. Quin tries to get me to eat, but I can’t. I can’t concentrate. At this time tomorrow, I will have seen a person die and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
Quin rubs my hand, massaging over the beautiful bruises on my wrist. “You can stay here, baby boy. I can handle it.”
“No. I’m okay, Daddy. I promise. Don’t make me stay, please.” I know if Quin tells me to, I wouldn’t disobey him, but I hope he won’t. I need to do this, to make sure justice is served by my Daddy.
“Here’s the plan. I’ve looked at the floorplans for the hotel he’s in. I know which room and it’s on the first floor with a bathroom window. All I need you to do is knock on the door and talk to him for about thirty seconds. I can get in and dose him so we can take him away to the house my contact is letting me borrow. Can you handle that?”
Can I? It’s a lot of pressure. What if he recognizes me right away and slams the door in my face? Or if he tries to attack me? I can defend myself, but will I be strong enough to fight him off until Quin can get to me? Will it draw unnecessary attention to us if hedoesattack me? Will I be able to not fuck this up so Quin can subdue him?
“Baby,” Quin grabs my hands in his. “You don’t have to if you’re afraid. I can always kick the door in and drag his dumb ass out.”
“No!” I shout, then rein in the volume. “No. I got it. I can do it. If we can go shopping, I can get a ball cap so he won’t recognize me. It’s been months, but I don’t want to risk it. I want to give you all the time you need to get him.”
“My brave boy.” Quin wraps his arms around me and I melt into him, loving that he thinks I’m brave and wanting to be brave for him. “When it gets dark, we’ll head out. We can go shopping now and get you a disguise.”
My disguise turns out to be a shitty wig and a Toronto Blue Jays baseball cap. I stick to the regular t-shirt and jeans I have on, since Tom last saw me in a nice fitting suit. We spend the day sightseeing around Vancouver, but I’m not really taking anything in. I will the sun to set faster so we can get started on closing this shitty chapter in my life.
I really wish I could tell the people that were trapped in that warehouse that I was doing this for them, but that would just get Quin and I sent to prison. It’ll suck for them not to know what happened to the two that escaped and it might affect their recovery. That stops me short for a moment, but I figure I can ask Quin about maybe calling in a tip that will have their bodies found. That way, the people know what happened to them and they won’t come after them ever again.
We get back to the hotel a few hours later and wait for dark. “Quin, is there a way we can … I don’t know … have someone find their bodies? So the people who were rescued from the warehouse will have some closure? I know it’s a lot to ask, but is it possible?”
Quin shrugs and walks over to me, adjusting the god awful wig under my cap. “Depends on what I do to them. They’re wanted fugitives on the lam for sex trafficking and their pictures are plastered across the news outlets. Could be vigilante justice if I do it right. Could get bloody.” The smile on his face is almost feral and if it were directed at me, I’d be running for cover. As it is, it sends a shiver down my spine and I almost feel sorry for them. Then I reconsider because fuck Andler and Tom. They deserve everything they get.
I pout. “Aww. That means you can’t shoot them.”
Quin laughs and kisses me hard and fast. “For someone who’s afraid of guns, you sure want me to use one.” He laughs again, then turns me to face the mirror. He loops an arm around my chest and kisses the back of my neck. I watch us in the mirror, Quin so much bigger and taller than me, even though I’m not really small. His beautiful brown skin always seems to glow under the lights and his locs tickle where they brush my shoulder. This is my perfect man and he’s willing to do anything for me—even kill—so I feel safe. I don’t think I’ll find another Daddy that will take care of me this good.
Moving closer to him, I let out a shaky breath. “It’s not that Iwantyou to shoot them. I just want to see if it’s like the movies.”
Chuckling against my skin, Quin lifts his head and meets my eyes in the mirror. “It’s not. More blood, depending on where you shoot them and what you use. I have my Sig with me, so it won’t be too bad. If I had say … a shotgun, the pellets would cause a lot of damage and there would be a mess.”
“Can you shoot him? Just once?” I know I sound a little deranged, but I really am curious about guns. Not curious enough to hold or shoot one myself, but how they work. They’re a novelty here in Canada, only used for hunting and by police, so I want to see. Just once.
Turning me around, Quin pulls me to him and tilts my head up, framing my face with his huge, rough hands. “Just once. Then I’ll figure something out so I can call in a tip. I’ll make sure there’s an exit wound, just for you.”
This is probably the strangest conversation I’ve ever had, but I smile at Quin, since he’s going to make sure the survivors know these men won’t be able to hurt them anymore. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Come on, it’s go time. Remember, don’t carry on the conversation too long or about anything that matters. But chat him up for long enough that I can sneak in. I’m a big guy, so I’ll need time.”
“Yes, Daddy. I got it, I promise.”
It’s about a twenty-minute drive from our hotel to the rundown motel where Tom is renting a room. Quin tracked the route and is taking roads that have little to no camera activity, so we won’t be seen. He also switched the license plates for the rental car with a pair he brought with him—he thought of everything—and made sure a car was waiting for him when we deplaned. I don’t know who rented it for us and I didn’t ask. The less I know, the less I’ll be able to tell if we get caught.
