Page 31 of Finding Haven
There’s no way that they’re talking about actually killing someone, right?
Who are these people? What the hell kind of situation have I gotten myself into? And Zack… he’s just standing there, staring at me with wide eyes as though he’s waiting to see what I’m going to do.
My breaths feel shallow, my lungs struggling to take in oxygen. The look he’s giving me confirms that I definitely overheard something I wasn’t meant to. My brows pinch as I slowly begin to take a step back, my mind struggling to process what exactly I’ve heard. All I know is that I have to get out of here. I have to get away from whatever it is that I just walked into.
“Quinn, wait,” Zack shouts, shoving his way through the men he was just mid-conversation with as he reaches for me.
23
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 andserious 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 exactlyisyour line of work, Zack? Because I’m failing to see how working as Head of Security for ahotelinvolves 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.
