Page 55 of Wretched Lies

And I want to believe Blake is alive so desperately. Ineedto talk to her. Ineedto tell her how sorry I am.

As I stand from the table, Ilya extends his hand towards me. “Deal?”

He wants me to shake his hand? Fresh tears well in my eyes as Ilya’s cold fingers wrap around mine. I’m so sorry, Jason. “Deal,” I rasp.

Chapter 17

Reid

It rained through the night, and a blanket of morning mist lies low on the fields as I turn off the road and head down a dirt track. The rising sun provides dappled light through the trees, and I choose a spot where the woodland is dense and my SUV won’t be seen from road or sky.

Getting out of the car, I take a couple of calming breaths of spring-fresh air. I can smell the earth awakening from its winter slumber, dangling the promise of better times ahead, but as I wait for Quinn, I test the straps of the Kevlar vest Jake insisted I wear.

When I hear the distant rumble of a car, I hold my breath and strain my ears. I’m pretty sure it’s Quinn’s Jeep, but Mace lectured me this morning about not making assumptions. Ilya is still at the estate and it could be someone else driving if she’s been compromised. Or, if it is Quinn, she may not be alone. And even if she is meeting me as planned, there are plenty of other risks I should bear in mind according to Mace. I’ve been told not to let my dick rule my head. He still doesn’t trust her. I do.

I step behind a tree and stare at the bend in the road until silvery light transforms into the solidified form of a car. As Quinn hits a patch of sunlight, I get the confirmation I need that she’s alone. I hurry forward, reaching the car as she skids to a stop.

I yank open her door and she practically falls into my arms. When she buries her head into my neck, I hold her tight.

“I’ve got you, baby,” I whisper, pulling her from the car.

Quinn’s feet don’t touch the ground, and her dress bunches up around her thighs as she wraps her legs around my waist. My cock thickens as it always does when she’s this near, but our embrace isn’t sexual. She’s clinging to me and all I want to do is hold onto her and keep her safe.

“I can’t stay long,” she says into my neck. “I just wanted… I just needed…”

“This,” I reply, almost squeezing the breath out of her. “You just needed this.”

She sniffs back tears and as she straightens up, I get a good look at her for the first time. Bare tree branches cast shadows that deepen the hollows under her eyes. My stomach hollows.

“What happened?”

She trails a finger over my lips. “Nothing bad,” she says. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Which means?” It unsettles me that she’s looking at my mouth more than she’ll look into my eyes.

She leans in and trails her tongue gently across my lips. I go to suck on her lower lip but she pulls away.

“I’m OK,” she assures me. Her eyes flick up to mine, then lower again as she traces my jawline with her finger. “I had dinner with Ilya last night.”

Her eyebrow arches. She can feel the pulse in my jawticking upwards beneath her fingertip. I don’t say anything as I carry her toward the trunk of a tree and pin her against it so I don’t need my arms to hold her.

I grab her chin and tilt her head so she has to look at me. She fists my shirt sleeve as I fix her with my gaze. “And who else was at this dinner?”

I know through surveillance that Jason had spent the evening in a bar with a couple of Ilya’s men, and I’m not sure I’m ready for her answer.

“It was just the two of us.”

“Did he touch you?”

Her features harden a fraction at the harshness of my tone, and she shoves my hand away. “No.”

“Did he proposition you?” Her eyes flick downwards, breaking our gaze. I don’t need to wait for her reply. “What does he want from you, Quinn?”

“Not what you think,” she snaps. “And I came here to escape for five minutes, not have you interrogate me.”

I press my forehead briefly to hers. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so worried about you. I hate every minute you spend in that fucking house.”

“Ilya wasn’t there for long. He’s obviously got plenty to keep him busy at the guesthouse.”