Quinn flipped on the headlights and shifted the van out of park, waiting for the first flash of lights from the car he knew Carl was driving. Natalie’s partner had commented on hearing the squeal of tires across pavement as they reached Spring’s so-called man cave. Shane’s pleading for him not to follow the bodyguard cut through him. He sounded like he really cared. Quinn’s hands clenched the wheel, palms growing sweaty with anticipation as each second ticked by.

With a growl, he reached over and slapped the laptop closed, silencing Shane’s voice. If he continued to listen to Shane, he’d cave. He knew it. Carl couldn’t be allowed to escape. Not after what had happened to Kate’s son. Not after what he could guess happened to Kate based on Shane’s reaction. Both men needed to be taken down.

“You know that’s not going to make the dick happy,” Royce said calmly from the passenger seat. “You really want to do this?”

Quinn ignored Royce’s comment. “How close are the police?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Royce typing out a quick text to Gidget. She was back in the office, monitoring the police scanner for calls into the Indian Hill Police Department. Nearly a minute passed before Royce grunted.

“She says they are still at least three minutes out. Ambulance has been dispatched for the woman.”

“And there he is.” Bright headlights washed over them as dark sedan turned onto the main road just across from them and sped away in a spray of loose gravel and barking tires. He grabbed his cell phone out of the center console and pressed it into Royce’s hand. “Call Shane. Tell him that the bastard is heading north on Drake Road. We’re only going to follow.”

“Got it. He’s probably heading toward Camargo Road. Gets into busier traffic. Easier to get lost and then onto the highway.”

“You know the area?” He waited until Carl had a couple of seconds’ lead before pulling away from the side of the road and trailing after him. He couldn’t follow too closely. The damn surveillance van was painted up as if it belonged to a local delivery company, but he didn’t want to look too suspicious.

“Yeah, lot of clients in the area.” Royce’s voice suddenly hardened as he started talking to Shane on the phone. Quinn could hear Shane shouting back at Royce to stop him from pursuing Carl, but Royce ended the call midsentence. “Your boyfriend is pissed.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Quinn snapped. He pressed the gas a little, closing the gap between the van and the black Infiniti. The van rumbled and had all the maneuverability of a giant metal box on a skateboard. It was one of the rare moments that he missed his old, beaten-up Toyota. The thing might like to stall on occasion and the AC was busted, but she could take a corner when he wanted to, and she had kick-ass acceleration.

“You sure about that? Sounds real bitchy like a boyfriend.”

“He’s not bitchy, and he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’m just saying—”

“It’s just sex. He’s not into relationships.”

Royce’s silence seemed even heavier now. Sure, Shane might not be into relationships, but Quinn would never turn down something a little more permanent and monogamous with Shane. Something that involved regular sleepovers and breakfast and cuddling on the couch in front of the TV.

Fuck. This was not the time to think about this.

“He’s speeding up,” Royce unnecessarily pointed out.

Quinn blinked away thoughts of Shane and noticed that the Infiniti was definitely pulling away from them at an accelerated rate. “Shit. I think he made us. I’m going to speed up. Text Shane and Gidget the make and license plate number. They can at least pass that on to the cops.”

“The asshole isn’t driving a sports car, but do you really think this bucket can catch him?”

Quinn stomped his foot down on the gas pedal and the van leaped forward with more power than either man expected. Royce swore loudly, grabbing at the handle on the ceiling right next to the passenger door while Quinn cackled. Apparently the van had a hidden surprise in the name of power under the hood.

As they closed in on the bodyguard’s car, Carl jerked the sedan over into the empty lane for oncoming traffic and slammed on the brakes. The bright rear lights flared angrily in the growing darkness. Quinn tried to slow the van down, but he was already traveling at such a speed that he caught up with the sedan quickly. He looked over to find the passenger window open on the sedan a second before he heard the first shot. The bullet slammed into the side of the van and Quinn hit the brakes harder.

“Fucker,” Quinn snarled as another bullet hit the van near the hood.

“Back off, squirt!” Royce shouted. “We’re only supposed to be following.”

“To hell with that. He’s shooting at us.” As the sedan started to pull away again, Quinn gunned the engine, trying to catch up.

“What are you going to do? This thing is like an old-fashioned bread truck. You can’t outmaneuver that car.”

“Not trying to.”

Quinn sped up so that the front of the van was lined up with the rear wheel on the passenger side. He turned the van into the car, using its superior size and force to spin the car sideways.

“Holy shit!” Royce yelled but Quinn ignored him. The sedan fishtailed as the bodyguard tried to regain control, but Quinn kept the pressure on, using the nose of the van to keep the sedan shifting sideways while making sure the bastard couldn’t regain control of the car.

Down the road, blue lights swirled and flashed off the trees and houses as the cops raced to meet up with them. Quinn sped up a little more and continued to push until the sedan slid off the road and into the thick green grass on the side. He pulled back as the sedan spun out in the grass and mud before the rear end slammed into a tree with a metallic crunch.

With a grin, Quinn pulled the van over and threw it into park. He was out of the van before Royce could catch him, running across the road as Carl stumbled out of the sedan. The large bodyguard took two unsteady steps before falling to his knees as if he were already badly shaken by the crash. Quinn could hear Royce shouting at him to get down. There was only going to be one shot at this.

The bodyguard was a big man, with broad shoulders and a chest that resembled more of a brick wall than human flesh. Quinn didn’t fucking care. The man fought to get back to his feet, shaking his head for a second. He lifted his eyes to focus on Quinn. His face turned into a snarl just before Quinn punched him straight across the jaw, knocking him on his ass.

“Son of a bitch,” Quinn swore, scrambling backward while clutching his right hand. Pain shot through his knuckles and down into his wrist. He’d never actually hit anyone before. With Rowe and Andrei, he’d hit the pads with his hands taped and gloved up. No one had warned him that punching a person would hurt like that.

“Don’t shake your hand,” Royce sharply said as Quinn lifted his hand to do just that.

“It fucking hurts.”

He stepped around Quinn, his gun drawn and pointed at Carl who was still lying on his back in the grass, his hands slightly raised and open. “And if you’re lucky enough that it’s not broken, shaking it could turn a fracture into a break.”

Quinn paced away while still holding his hand. He was tempted to march over and kick the bastard, but with his luck, he’d break his foot. It was probably better that four cop cruisers descended on them in that moment. Cops jumped out, guns drawn and shouting.

Reluctantly, Quinn released his hand and raised both in the air, while Royce dropped his gun and backed away from the bodyguard. It took several minutes for the cops to radio back to Detective Metcalfe and straighten out exactly who everyone was. It was clear that Quinn and Royce weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

With his back to a tree, Quinn sat in the damp grass next to Royce, trying to ignore the wetness seeping into the seat of his pants. Royce had used the light from his phone to look at his hand. It was definitely swollen, and he’d need to go to the hospital for an X-ray later, but Royce had declared it not broken.

“Was it worth risking your life to punch him?” Royce asked after they’d been sitting there in easy silence for several minutes. They watched the flashing blue lights dancing over the relatively empty area while Carl was checked over, handcuffed, and loaded into a cruiser. They were now checking over the Infiniti as well as the surveillance van since it had been involved in an “accident.”

“Yes. The asshole shot at Shane. Shot at me. He killed Kate’s son. He deserved a hell of a lot more than one punch.” Even if his hand was throbbing and hurting.

“What now?”

Quinn gave a small shrug with one shoulder. The pain in his hand subsided in the face of the rising pain in his chest. “The case is finished. I’ll be back in the office tomorrow. It’ll probably take me a day to sort through all the emails and organize the various job requests…”

“No, I mean between you and the dick.”

Quinn sighed heavily. “Will you stop calling him that?”

“Fine. You and Shane. What’s next?”

He lowered his eyes to stare at his hand. A part of him was glad that it was so damn dark. Royce wouldn’t be able to read his expression like he usually could. The case was finished. Shane’s entire reason for needing him was completed. It was hard to believe that they’d met for the first time two weeks ago, because it felt like he’d known Shane forever and that their time together had been just a blink of the eye. And now that it was over, it hurt. Far more than a stupid fractured hand.

“Nothing I guess. It was just some fun.”

Royce’s laughter exploded across the field. He rocked away from Quinn and then back, bumping his shoulder. “Some fun? You don’t jump out of a car and take on an armed man with nothing but your bare hands just because you like how a guy fucks.”

Quinn dropped his head back against the tree and squeezed his eyes shut. What the hell was he supposed to do?

“You could at least start by admitting that you like the guy.”

“I…I think I might love him.” Quinn swallowed hard. “He’s smart and funny. Sexy as hell. Cares about his dad. He’s amazing with my mom. I feel…special when I’m with him. Like he cares about what I think and whether I’m happy.”

“That’s not a bad thing, squirt.”

“Except that he doesn’t do relationships. Ever. He’s got all these hot guys coming in and out of his life. And I can’t do the sharing, open relationship thing. Why would he ever settle for me?”

“Because I’m sure that he would never see it as settling.” Royce lifted his arm and wrapped it around Quinn’s shoulders, pulling him in close. “I swear you remind me of my little brother.”

Royce never talked about his life prior to joining Ward Security and he felt privileged to learn that much.

“But if he doesn’t consider himself lucky to get you, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Talk to him. It’s better to know than to wonder for the rest of your life if you missed out on something amazing.”

“I know. I will. I’m going to give him some time. The mayor isn’t going to roll over and give up. Shane and the police are going to have a fight on their hands even with the confession. Shane and Ethan will need to focus on protecting their business from any backlash from the bastard.”

“Just don’t wait too long. I don’t want you to feel that kind of regret.”

Quinn closed his eyes against the heavy weight in Royce’s low voice. The weight of experiencing that pain firsthand and then having to live with it. He wanted to ask, to say something that would ease his friend’s pain, but he kept quiet and leaned his head against Royce’s shoulder as they waited for the cops to finally release them.

He’d figure out what to do with Shane later. Right now, his hand hurt, his heart hurt, and he felt like he could sleep for a week.