Page 24 of Finding Haven (Haven #2)

Zack

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

This sure as hell was not how I wanted her to find out about the darker aspect of my job.

Granted, I’m not the one who was spouting off about taking someone’s life, but I was clearly part of the conversation.

I can’t even find fault with the guys. It doesn’t take long for members to become desensitized to the more gruesome details of the job, and they’ve been members almost as long as I have.

It’s not their fault that a couple of civilians happened to be in attendance at an event that was otherwise supposed to strictly be for Legion members.

I’m following after Quinn and internally cursing at myself, practically chasing her through the Anders Estate as she weaves her way around the tables and small groups of people.

The looks being thrown my way range from concern or confusion to downright frustration.

While most of the Phoenix Legion’s members live fairly normal lives on a day-to-day basis, it isn’t often that we’re given a chance to be in the same place as this many other like-minded individuals.

Having people to decompress with and confide in is huge.

Several therapists are kept on the roster, but being analyzed by a professional is nowhere near the same as having a friend to talk to.

Especially when that friend has been through similar situations.

“Quinn, please just wait a minute,” I call out as we reach the house.

I won’t force her to stay if she truly feels uncomfortable, but I need her to hear me out first. I can only imagine the kind of thoughts racing through her mind after the brief exchange she overheard.

It’s enough to make anyone panic. Hell, if I would’ve heard the same kind of comments prior to coming to Haven Beach, I likely would’ve panicked too.

Most of the men and women I knew within the Hartridge PD kept things fairly close to their chest. It wasn’t often that they would converse about the things they saw or the days where everything went to shit.

She spins around to face me. “Wait for what, Zack?” she snaps.

The tone of her voice has ice slithering in my veins.

I’ve been on the receiving end of a woman’s wrath more times than I care to count.

It’s something I swore I would never again subject myself to.

I vowed to protect myself—body, heart, and soul—and never let someone else get close to me again.

Yet, somehow, Quinn’s presence in my life has opened my heart to the possibility of caring for someone, of allowing myself to love and be loved in return.

“Please, just give me a chance to explain. I promise it’s not what you think.

” My voice cracks as the words slip past my lips, pressure building behind my eyes.

She folds her arms over her chest and tugs her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.

As much as I’m able to,” I tell her. I won’t be able to tell her everything.

Some things will need to remain private knowledge, but I’ll give her as much information as I can without placing my job or fellow Legion members at risk.

Telling someone about The Phoenix Legion is a decision that cannot be made lightly.

The fewer outsiders who know, the better.

Spouses and serious life-partners are the only exception, and while Quinn doesn’t fit into either of those categories just yet, I think someday she could.

It doesn’t matter that our relationship is still new.

There’s a part of her soul that calls to mine.

I hold out my hand as I take a step towards her, willing her to take it. Her gaze flits down to my hand, her arms slowly uncrossing.

“I just want to talk somewhere a little more private. I promise you and Chelsea are both safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice level.

I’m well aware how bad this must look. We met at the hotel, I found her camsite that same night, and somehow, we ended up among the same circle of friends which led to her being here today.

Even I can admit that it could all seem rather suspicious.

She has no real reason to trust me, and still, I hope she does after she hears what I have to tell her.

Her arms drop to her side as she takes my hand.

She gives a slight nod, her eyes locked on mine.

A heavy sigh presses from my lips, and I give her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you, Sugar,” I say, turning to lead her into the home library that sits just off to the side of the main entryway.

The room is open with no door to close it off, but it still gives us the privacy I prefer to have for this conversation.

She pulls her hand from mine as soon as we step into the room, her arms folding back over her chest in what I now realize is a defensive stance. Like the position will somehow guard her from what I’m about to tell her.

There are a dozen different ways this could go, and there’s only so much I can tell her, but first, I need to know how much of our conversation she caught. Thankfully, no names or specific details were said .

“What did you hear?” I ask, not bothering to hesitate or draw this out.

She turns away from me, seemingly gathering her thoughts as her attention combs over the wall-mounted bookshelves.

Framed photographs, small trinkets, various books, and a few small potted plants line the white shelves.

You would never guess that the family living here has dedicated their lives to saving others.

Her bottom lip is pulled slightly between her teeth as she bites at the inside of it, mulling over my question. I can practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she runs through what the guys had been saying as she approached.

“One of them said they were going to put a. . .” Her breath trembles on an exhale as her chin dips to her chest, her eyes falling shut.

I shift over to lean against the wall, slipping my hands into my pockets.

I don’t want her to feel like I’m boxing her in, like I’m preventing her from leaving.

I could repeat the words myself, but I won’t.

I want to hear her say them. There’s a sick, dark part of my soul that needs Quinn to be able to handle this aspect of my life.

I need her to be strong enough to stand with me in the shadows.

Her eyes lift to mine as her hands move to her hips like she’s forcing herself to stand tall. “One of them said they were going to put a bullet in someone’s head, and the other said they couldn’t kill the guy before they got what they needed from him.”

“And that scared you?” It’s a stupid question, but I need her to voice exactly how she’s feeling. We need to get as much as we can out in the open if we’re going to have any chance at moving forward.

She scoffs. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you hear people say every day.”

“It is in my line of work.” I hate how disconnected my voice sounds.

The short responses and the icy tone have become my go-to way to guard myself over the last few years.

She doesn’t deserve this kind of reaction from me, but it’s the only way I know how to protect myself from the possibility of her rejection and the ensuing emotional pain.

There’s a slimy feeling slithering in my stomach, preparing for her to walk out the door and away from whatever this thing is between us.

I’ve only just begun to allow myself to soak in her rays of light, and I’m not ready to dive back into the dark.

“And what exactly is your line of work, Zack? Because I’m failing to see how working as Head of Security for a hotel involves killing people.”

I lean against the wall, my head tipped back as my eyes fall shut. My heart thrashes against my ribs like it’s attempting to claw its way out of my chest as sweat beads along the base of my neck.

Quinn isn’t yelling at me. She’s just upset over the situation. Upset that I’ve kept her in the dark. She has every right to feel angry, to give voice to her emotions. It doesn’t mean she’s going to become violent. It doesn’t mean she’s going to tear me apart.

“There’s only so much I can tell you. I work for an organization whose sole purpose is to protect those who can’t protect themselves.” The words feel like sandpaper in my throat.

She stares at me for a moment, mulling my response over. “And this man, who’s apparently going to end up with a bullet in his head, how is he being protected?”

I push away from the wall, keeping my hands in my pockets as I hold her gaze. I’m doing my best not to appear as a threat to her. “He’s not the one who needs our protection,” I say. “He’s the one we’re trying to protect others from.”

Her brows furrow, the bridge of her nose scrunching. “What did he do?”

“I can’t tell you that,” I sigh. “What I can tell you is that ending his life also means we’ll be saving many more.

He’s not the kind of person who deserves to continue breathing.

The things he’s done would make you sick.

” I let the words settle between us for a minute before I say, “We’re not the bad guys, Quinn.

” I used to see the world as black and white, right and wrong.

There’s no gray area when you’re the one expected to uphold the law.

Being with The Phoenix Legion has not only changed my life, it’s also changed how I see the world.

There was a time when I hated the idea of death.

Now, I see it as a necessary evil when it comes to ridding this world of people who don’t deserve the lives they’ve been given.

While taking someone’s life might not be considered a good thing, the line between good and bad isn’t so clear when killing one person could potentially save the lives of dozens, if not hundreds, of other people.

“I’m pretty sure that’s something a bad guy would say,” she says, her tone softer than before. She’s not entirely wrong.

“I would never hurt you, Quinn. What can I do to make you see that I’m not somebody you need to be afraid of?”

“I want to believe you, Zack. I do. I just. . . I need a minute. This is a lot to take in,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

She takes a step towards me, her hand reaching out and grasping my wrist. My hands clench into fists in my pockets, unsure of what she’s going to do.

Her touch is gentle, as though in this moment, I’m the one who needs reassurance.

“I’m not turning my back on you, Zack. I’m not walking away from us.

I just need a little time to process. Can you give me that? ”

“Take all the time you need,” I tell her, consciously fighting back the incessant urge to call her Sugar.

She squeezes my wrist and slips out of the room.

A weighted sigh escapes from my chest as soon as she’s gone.

I pull my hands from my pockets and rub them over my face, taking slow, intentional breaths.

My heart slowly settles, no longer pounding in my chest, but a tightness remains coiled in my gut as sparks of electricity race along my skin.

I didn’t realize how badly I needed to test her reaction.

The conversation was uncomfortable for both of us, but she didn’t just shut down and sweep it under the rug.

Quinn stood her ground and asked questions, showing a genuine curiosity and desire to know what I had to say.

That act alone was something Tiffany never did.

She never wanted to hear about my job or how my day was.

She was only ever interested if it directly impacted her in some way.

Quinn had every right to lash out at me, to tell me to fuck off, to say she never wants to see me again.

She didn’t do any of that. The only time her voice was even remotely raised at me was when I asked her to wait.

Her emotions were at their peak, and she likely wasn’t in complete control of them.

I can’t deny the sense of comfort that washes over me at the knowledge that Quinn truly is nothing like my ex.