Page 7 of Never Again

There is no one else.

“That’s because I was,” Quinn said, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he focused his attention on the man that was going to have to find someone else to deal with the little brat. “Why am I here?” he repeated, in no fucking mood to keep playing this game.

“I think it might be better if I showed you,” Nathan said, gesturing to the freight elevator as the gate was slowly pushed open and the softly mumbled, “I can do this,” drew his attention to find Pam standing there, shifting nervously as she wrung her hands together only to go still when she saw him and mumbled, “I can do this,” one last time as she noticeably swallowed.

“She’s still out,” Nathan said, giving the small woman who was in way over her head a warm smile.

“H-How long before she wakes up?” Pam asked, forcing the words out as she shifted her attention to the couch.

“God only knows,” Nathan said, sighing heavily as he moved past her and made his way onto the elevator. With a jerky nod, Pam mumbled, “I can do this,” even as her shoulders slumped in defeat as she stood there, staring helplessly at the couch.

“You need to replace her,” Quinn said as he closed the gate.

Sighing heavily, Nathan said, “Trust me, I know.”

“Why did you hire a woman who’s afraid of her own shadow as security?” Quinn asked, quickly coming to the conclusion that they were absolutely full of shit.

It wouldn’t be the first time that some rich asshole wasted their time, deciding that they needed a personal bodyguard as their latest accessory to make sure that everyone knew just how fucking rich they were. The problem was, they didn’t want a rent-a-cop, they wanted the best, which meant that they were willing to do whatever it took to hire them, and sometimes, that meant selling them a line of bullshit. Tristan was normally good at spotting bullshit tales, which made Quinn wonder what line of bullshit they’d used to get him here.

“Bailey’s a pushover,” Nathan said with a helpless shrug as he pressed the call button for the second floor.

“Meaning?” Quinn asked, pushing the gate open a moment later when they reached their floor.

“She takes in strays. She thinks it’s her job to rescue people,” Nathan said as they walked off the elevator and back onto the busy floor.

“And they’re taking advantage of her?” Quinn guessed, watching as Nathan frowned in confusion as they headed to the back of the large room.

“God, no, they adore her. They’re extremely loyal and would do anything for her,” Nathan said, gesturing absently around them. “She does her best to find them jobs, and if she can’t find a good fit for them, she’ll find them something to do until she does.”

“Which still doesn’t explain what I’m doing here,” Quinn pointed out as they walked into an office sectioned off from the rest of the large room by a glass wall and bookshelves.

“This is why,” Nathan said, grabbing a file off the desk and tossed it to him.

“And what’s this?” Quinn asked, opening the file and-

“Something that Bailey doesn’t need to know about.”

* * *

“I’m never drinking coffee again,”Bailey mumbled hollowly as she lay there, unable to help but wonder when she’d started to hallucinate.

It was probably something that she should look into, Bailey thought as she watched Quinn Jackson, the man that she hadn’t seen since she’d been forced to take matters into her own hands, carry another bag into the bedroom that Nathan used on those nights when he was too tired to drive home. Not really sure why this was happening, Bailey moved to sit up only to realize that she was trapped.

Sighing heavily, she wiggled, grunted, and groaned until she was finally able to kick the blanket away and sit up and watch the man who really didn’t look happy to see her move his things into her guest room. There was probably a logical explanation for this, but at the moment, she couldn’t think of one.

For a moment, she considered asking him, but…

She would probably be better off asking Nathan instead, Bailey decided as she grabbed her cellphone off the coffee table and sent her best friend a text message.

Why is the angry man set on revenge moving into my apartment?

There was a heavy sigh, and then, “Why are you texting me? I’m sitting across from you.”

“I know, but I’m not talking to you at the moment,” Bailey said, sending another text.

I’m no longer speaking with you!

There was another sigh, and then, her phone was plucked from her hand and Nathan was sitting on the coffee table in front of her. “We need to talk.”

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