Page 48 of Parker

Over the next few minutes, Parker filled his friend in on everything he knew up to this point. Quinn’s real name, her account of the attack in her home last night, the video surveillance she’d accessed with her impressive hacking skills—videos he’d watched multiple times during their short flight back from Chicago.

The rage he’d felt toward the faceless bastard who’d been terrorizing her was still there, simmering just below the surface.

“What about Hunt and his guys? They find anything useful when they went to her house?”

“Just evidence backing up her story about the intruder. Hunt sent me pics of the scene, but it wasn’t much to go on.

The images flipped through his mind like the small, vintage viewfinder toy he’d had as a kid.

An overturned bar stool in the kitchen.Click.A forgotten bottle lying on the floor next to a puddle of spilled wine.Click.Shards of shattered crystal.Click.An opened man door leading out to her garage.Click.

But it was the mangled garage door he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.

When he imagined Quinn literally running for her life…so fucking terrified she’d smashed her car into the garage door in her efforts to get away…

Parker realized for the first time what it felt like to want to kill.

No, that wasn’t true. When Sydnee had been taken, he’d been more than ready to take out the bastard responsible. And he would have, too, if Asher hadn’t beat him to it. But this felt different.

Itwasdifferent.

Because this wasn’t about a woman who was like his sister. This was about Quinn.

A woman he barely knew, yet was so innately connected to, he could barely think straight when she was around. Someone who, twenty-four-hours ago, was a faceless voice on the other end of the phone.

And yet, as inexplicable as it was—as deranged it might make him seem—Quinn Wilder had somehow become his priority.

Identifying and stopping the person who’d targeted her was his number one goal. Aside from that, nothing else mattered.

Not his gaming company. Not Homeland or the CIA. Only that.

Only her.

Speaking of Homeland…

“I put a call into Ryker earlier. He’s pulling everything he can find on Quinn’s ex and anyone he might be associated with that could possibly be involved.”

Jason Ryker was an agent with the powerful government agency. Not only was the well-connected man in charge of a covert team of specialists, but he was also the official senior government handler for the entire RISC organization.

Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and now Delta… Ryker had called upon their services in the name of Uncle Sam on multiple occasions.

For Parker, it was his behind-the-scenes and highly classified work he sometimes did for Homeland—and the CIA—that had brought him into Ryker’s circle. And the man owed him.

“Tell me you didn’t make that call in front of the woman.”

“The woman has a name,” Parker bit back. “And give me a little credit, would you? I waited until Quinn excused herself to the jet’s bathroom so she wouldn’t over hear.”

“Sorry.” Asher sounded as if he really was. “Guess Sydnee’s overprotective nature when it comes to you is rubbing off on me.”

“Aww…” He crooned. “I love you, too, Ash.”

“Don’t push it, asshole. But seriously, why didn’t you just look that shit up yourself? It’s not like you don’t have the skills.”

Oh, he had them, all right.

“I was with Quinn, remember? She only went to the bathroom once, and she was in there less than two minutes.”

“Dude. I’ve been on your jet before, remember? It’s a freakin’ Linear 100E. Pretty sure you could’ve found some privacy if you’d really wanted it.”

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