Page 23 of Parker

You’re going to pay for what you did.

The foreboding words from the last notes she’d received rang through her ears at a deafening level. A flash of black filling her vision, the memory of seeing that man standing in her kitchen appearing suddenly in her mind’s eye.

Whether the asshole’s goal was to kill, kidnap—or worse—Quinn didn’t know. But she sure as heck wasn’t about to stick around while a bunch of overworked and underpaid cops work tirelessly to figure it out.

Which brought her back to the question of who to call for help.

Since calling the cops would only hinder her ability to go dark until she could figure out her next steps, she moved to the next option: Holly.

Her handler-turned-co-worker had been nice enough to work with, and she and Quinn had even shared a few meals back in the day. But the driven woman had accepted a transfer to the FBI office in Denver less than a year after Quinn started, and the two lost touch almost immediately.

She didn’t even have Holly’s new number.

If she had her tablet, she could find it no problem. But since she didn’t…

Next option.

She could call someone else at the Bureau. But it had been four years since she left that job to work for herself, and last she’d checked, everyone from her old unit had moved on to other offices. Other cities.

What if Justin knows you used to work for the FBI? What if he found out, and that’s how he was able to find you?

Roots of past paranoia began to dig deep. The logical part of her brain knew the chances of him having access to that kind of information were slim, but she’d had enough experience with determined criminals to know there’s always a way.

A loose-lipped agent. The wrong person overhearing something they shouldn’t. A bribed guard who knows someone who knows someone…

Quinn had witnessed it herself a half a dozen times during her three years with the FBI. If an inmate was determined and had the right motivation, there wasn’t anything that would keep them from getting what they want.

Especially ones as smooth and charismatic as Justin Reynolds.

And if there was even a chance he’d somehow discovered her professional connections to the Agency, she couldn’t risk trusting anyone else there. Which meant that option was a no-go, as well.

You trustedhim, Quinn.He’sthe one you need to call.

She opened her eyes and lifted her head, slowly sitting back against her seat. It was crazy to even consider calling ByteMe69, right?

Of course, it was crazy. For a whole slew of reasons.

One, she didn’t know him, either. Not really. Two, she hadn’t talked to the guy in a month. And three, for all she knew, he could be married with six kids and a batshit crazy wife who’d kill her just for talking to her husband.

He’s not married, Quinn. You asked him that, remember?

Her chest tightened from the memory. That’s right. Shehadasked him. Well, sort of.

It was during one of their most recent phone conversations, and actually,he’dbeen the one to broach the subject.

They’d been talking about their latest online quest—joking about how one of the other opposing players had been whining like a little baby when his team lost—when ByteMe69 had grown quiet.

At first, it seemed as if the call had been dropped, so she’d asked, “You still there?”

“I’m here.”

“Everything okay? You got really quiet for a second, there.”

“I’m good. I just…I had something I wanted to ask, but I don’t know quite know how to word it.”

“Well, in case you haven’t figured it out by now, it takes a lot to offend me. So whatever it is, just ask.”

“All right. I was wondering if you were seeing anyone.”

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