Page 44 of Reclaiming Quinn

Chapter Twelve

THE DOORto the kitchen opened and another of Klein’s enforcers dragged a man inside. He dropped him to the floor, then snorted and stormed out. Deke reached out to where the man lay, nursing his arm.

“Are you okay?”

He narrowed his gaze and, a moment later, lashed out. Deke reared back, out of range.

“Hey, I’m not trying to hurt you.” He gestured to his nearly naked body. “See? Stuck here like you.”

Deke held out the hand again. For a moment, the man glared at him, then spoke.

“Where the fuck am I?” he growled as he took Deke’s hand, doing his best to get into the other chair.

“I wish I knew, believe me. My name is…. My name is Quinn, and I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not your enemy.” He held up his arm. “See?”

Deke hated having to lie, but he couldn’t trust anyone right now.

“Who the hell are these people? What do they want?”

That was another thing he couldn’t say. Humans didn’t know about shifters, and Deke wasn’t about to be the one to tell this guy anything.

“I don’t know. They took me from my hotel and brought me here. They’ve been making me cook for them.” Deke was a bit more hopeful when the man stopped glaring at him. “What’s your name?”

“Zach Clemmons. I can’t imagine why they’d want me. I’m just a cop.”

Oh fuck no. If Klein knew this guy was in law enforcement, that wouldn’t end well. “You can’t tell them that! They’re insane.”

“Y’think?” He leaned in closer. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Stabbed four times in the shoulder while my ma—boyfriend was on the phone. He’s got to be beside himself.”

The man pointed at his own arm and then down to his leg. “I think they broke them. They hurt like hell.”

Why Zach hadn’t collapsed into a heap spoke volumes about him. He was a strong man, there was no doubt. Broad in the chest, narrow in the waist, and with bulging arms that stretched the T-shirt he was wearing. His brown eyes were warm and matched his hair perfectly. Maybe….

“Why haven’t you escaped? Or at least tried?”

Deke slapped his legs, the thud loud in the small room. “Paralyzed. They took my chair, so it’s a lot of crawling around and hauling myself up when I want to sit. I think it amuses them to watch me slide across the floor.”

“Well, we’re in great shape, then.”

Better than being dead, Deke thought bitterly.

“So what are we going to do?”

“I’m getting the hell out of here,” Zach said, his tone leaving Deke with no doubt he’d try.

“With a broken leg and arm. How far do you think you’d get?”

Zach’s expression was akin to someone who’d bit a lemon. “What do you suggest? Stay here and make nice with these bastards?”

“No, of course not. It’s just, we need a plan to actually get out of here.” He pointed at each of their legs. “It’s not like we can run down the hall. Plus, they’ve got others too. Are we going to leave them?”

The expressions played plainly over Zach’s face. Anger, annoyance, and finally resignation. “What good are we doing them like this?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned after my accident, disabled doesn’t need to mean helpless.” Deke reached out and put a hand atop Zach’s. “First we need to take care of you.”

Deke slipped off the sling and placed it around Zach’s neck.