Quinn slipped out the back door of Trinity Hall, holding her breath. The bar was still doing lively business and the guys were otherwise focused on free beer. Her only concern was being spotted by a waitress or one of the bartenders on a smoke break.

She lifted the hood over her head, covering her hair. Stealing Owen’s hoodie was a twofold solution, first, his scent clinging to the fabric comforted her and gave her strength, second, the baggy material would hopefully disguise her enough to make it past the glass windows. Erik had done full-blown security improvements in the weeks following Aunt Liv’s kidnapping, which included new lights on the sidewalk outside the pub.

The good news was that she could make it home in a ten minute walk, probably less, since she was both sober and didn’t have Kierra with her. Every time they went to the pub for lunch or dinner, Kierra wanted to stop and pet the flowers or walk in someone’s grass barefoot.

Quinn was doing this to preserve her life, give herself a chance.

It would all work out in the end.

That was what she had to tell herself.

She crossed to the sidewalk, keeping her head low. The staff lot was a small parking area that had been fenced in recently. Quinn let herself out through a small gate. People on the patio were laughing, enjoying the cool night under the stars.

Quinn strode past, keeping her gaze on the street.

One glimpse of her face and this wasn’t going to work.

The bells on the front doors rang and a familiar laugh drifted out on the night.

“See you guys later,” Javier said. Right behind her.

Quinn quickstepped forward, praying that the jovial trickster didn’t spot her. That he didn’t make her out for who she was.

She kept going, all the way to the corner, but Javier never called out to her.

Still, Quinn didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she’d made it around the corner and across the street.

People inside the pub could still see her, but she’d be harder to identify the farther she got.

Quinn lengthened her stride, fighting the urge to sprint home.

First, she couldn’t run all that fast. Second, she was in flip-flops. And lastly, if she’d learned anything watching all those cartoons with Kierra, it was that running always attracted the attention of something dangerous.

In this case, it was her friends.

She cut through the yard at the corner of the street, something she’d never allowed Kierra to do before, but tonight was a special set of circumstances. Once she’d ducked past the old brick home she breathed a little easier.

The coast was clear-ish.

At any moment, Owen would get out of the shower and realize she was gone. She had as much time as it took him to realize she could have returned home and to come after her. She could only hope this would be enough time to cut a deal. For their future. So she could see how far this love thing lasted.

She made it to her darkened street in near record time. Her thigh muscles ached and sweat trickled down her spine, but she was there.

Quinn slowed her stride as her house came into view.

The lights in the living room were on, shining merrily through the windows.

She’d left those lights off and the curtains drawn.

A car that wasn’t hers sat in the drive, blocking her little sedan in.

Quinn stood on the sidewalk, staring at her front door.

This was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?

She could be walking into a trap.

Should she have brought a weapon?

What did she know about firing a gun or anything?

She was a bookish person. Fighting, running and hiding from people who wanted her dead was not her strong suit. It was why she’d needed Owen, and now it was time for her to handle this problem head on. By herself.

Quinn took a deep breath and walked through the short-shorn grass to her porch. Dew dampened the hem of her pajama pants and made her sandals slick with moisture. She breathed in the scent of a freshly-cut lawn and the smell of wet earth. This was her home. Her life. They were worth fighting for.

The stairs creaked underfoot as she climbed to the porch.

She couldn’t see inside.

If this was a trap, the person might shoot her on entry.

She stood to the side of the door, opened the screen and pushed the heavy door open. For a moment she didn’t breathe.

No one shot her.

Nothing jumped out at her.

She peered into the living room.

It was empty.

“Inside,” a voice said behind her.

She gasped and turned.

A man stood in the shadows below her on the walk.

He put one foot on the lowest stair.

She darted inside, into the safe halo of light.

Quinn had walked into the trap.

She turned and backed across the living room, almost to the hall.

The man entered after her, a hat casting long shadows on his face. His hands were bandaged and what skin she could see was red and glistened.

What did she say?

How did these things happen?

She licked her lips, wishing for something to hold onto right now.

“Got your message,” he said.

“You want the key, right? That’s what all of this is about?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“It’s not just about the key. It’s the key, the journals, the research, and the prototype.”

Everything.

He wanted it all.

Her soul screamed, No!

She couldn’t give up the one piece of work she’d taken from her mother’s journals and carried over the line. But was it worth her life? The lives of those she loved?

It wasn’t. And that was why she was here. As much as she’d loved working on that project, it was a thing. An object. It couldn’t love her back, like Owen could.

“And me? Whoever hired you wants me dead, too?” She shifted her feet. Flip-flops were a horrible idea if she needed to run.

“It’s nothing personal.” He shrugged.

“Then how does this end? How do I get my life back?”

“Give me everything and promise to be a good girl.” His tone was mocking.

“How do I know you’ll leave me alone if I do this?”

“You don’t, but they only care about stopping your research, so...”

“If I promise to drop the whole project, will they leave me alone?”

“I suspect that will suffice.”

“You suspect? I need some sort of assurance.”

“Well, you aren’t getting it. You have to ask yourself, are you willing to take a chance, possibly survive, or would you like to die right now?” He lifted his shirt and drew a gun. He didn’t point it at her, simply held it at his side.

“If you kill me, you don’t get the key or the research. They’ll still show the prototype without me,” she blurted. No one at HI-Co would show her battery, but he didn’t know that.

“Then it seems we only have one option,” he said.

“I give you everything and you leave me alone? And Kierra? And Owen?”

The man paused.

She’d been the job, but Owen was the bonus.

“Sure,” he said after a moment.

Quinn almost wept in relief. They were going to be okay. This would work. Tomorrow it would all be one, awful nightmare.

“The stuff isn’t here. I have to go get it.” The key was here, but the rest was at the garage. “I’ll give you an address. Meet me there in an hour and you’ll get everything.”

“I could take you,” he offered.

“No. You’ve already tried to kill me.” She shook her head.

“Fine. One hour. Address?”

“I’ll put it in an email in twenty minutes. You and I both have to get out of here. Any moment now, the guys are going to realize I’m gone and this is the first place they’ll check. If neither of us wants to get caught, we have to both leave. Now.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckled. “See you soon.”

She stood her ground and watched the man duck out her front door. She counted to ten before the unknown car in her driveway rumbled to life, the lights shining through the windows.

Quinn darted down the hall and snagged the keys off the hook near the basement door.

They’d been in plain sight all along, but no one would know what they were, without her pointing them out.

She hoofed it out the front door and into her car, locking the doors first, then checking her back seat. This whole thing was too crazy not to be extra cautious.

Her cell phone rang.

Her stomach clenched.

Quinn pulled the phone out and stared at Owen’s name for half a second.

She was doing this for them.

Owen’s stomach was gnawing on his spine. The prospect of more bar food, even the home-cooked options, wasn’t as appealing as a greasy, loaded pizza. He hitched the towel around his hips and opened the bathroom door, letting out all the heat.

“Hey, Quinn? I was thinking about ordering a pizza. Interested?” he tilted his head to the side.

No answer.

Had she fallen asleep?

It was getting late.

He stepped into his boxers before leaving the bathroom. He grabbed the towel and wandered out, rubbing the water out of his hair.

The bed was still made.

He padded into the living room, but didn’t spy her on the sectional or anywhere else.

Had she gone downstairs?

Owen had really wanted to spend some time together, without the guys, but after everything they’d been through, if she craved people, he’d deal.

He got dressed in the clothes Chloe had brought him. By some miracle, she’d had some jeans and a shirt of his hanging around her place. Once clothed, he headed downstairs to the bar. There was no reason to run her phone down more with an unnecessary text.

He entered Trinity Hall through the back entrance now reserved for staff and their circle of friends.

“Hey, man.” Zach saluted him with his cup of ice.

“Hey.” Owen glanced around. The girls were all gone, as were many of the guys. “Have you seen Quinn?”

“No. She’s not upstairs with you?” Zach sat up straight, reached into his bag and pulled out his laptop.

“No...” The blood drained out of his limbs. Owen pulled his phone out. “I’m calling her.”

He pressed the phone to his ear, listening to it ring—and go to voicemail. Was it dead? Or had she ignored his call? Why would she leave without her phone being the least bit charged? And if it was charged, why was she ignoring the call?

“She’s not answering.”

“Hold that thought. Before you think anything else, let’s just check,” Zach said.

“What’s wrong?” Blake leaned forward, peering past Duke and Levi.

“Quinn’s gone.” Owen gripped the back of Zach’s chair. He couldn’t focus on the screen or anything at all.

“Got her,” Zach said. “Signal’s moving pretty fast. That’s either a car, a bus, maybe a taxi?”

“Where would she be going?” Owen asked.

“Erik. Security feeds?” Duke waved the other guy out from behind the bar. “Quinn might not have left of her own free will.”

“This way.” Erik waved them behind the bar, through a set of swinging, double doors.

Owen and Duke hoofed it, following Erik into the back. He was already scrolling back on a camera pointed at the doors at the rear of the building.

“There!” Owen leaned past, jabbing a finger at the screen. “She left. By herself. Why?”

Erik scrolled to the moment she opened the door and they all watched her leave the building by herself.

“Don’t know, man. Want me to call the cops?” Erik asked.

“And what? Tell them a girl walked out under her own free will to do—what? Take a walk?” Owen shook his head. As much as he wanted to get a BOLO out for her or her car, there wasn’t enough reason.

Why would she leave?

Was she scared?

Was it that he’d told her he loved her?

She’d said it back. Was it still too soon?

Zach pushed through the storage room doors, laptop in hand.

“She’s stopped. You’re going to want to see this.” He turned the screen to face them.

Both Owen and Duke crossed to peer at the screen.

“That’s The Dragon.” Duke frowned. “What’s she doing at the shop?”

“The battery.” Owen’s blood went cold. “The battery is there. Someone must have gotten to her. I have to get there.”

“I’ll call John, tell him to look out for her.” Duke pulled out his phone.

“I’m coming with you,” Erik said.

“So am I.” Zach closed the laptop.

Owen pushed out through the doors and hooked a right, down the hall and into the lot. Within moments, the remaining guys in the bar were in the lot.

He stared at the cars.

His wasn’t there.

The fire truck had blocked it in.

“Come on. I’ve got this.” Blake slapped Owen’s shoulder and shoved him at his car. “We’ll find her.”

Quinn stared at the chain-link fence.

Fuck.

She hadn’t given a single thought to how difficult it might be to get inside the garage. Duke had given her the key and alarm code to get into the small bay, but no one had mentioned the fence. She hadn’t even thought about anyone pulling the gate closed or locking it.

Now she was really regretting the choice of flip-flops.

How to get inside before the guy showed up?

Climbing wasn’t the best option. She didn’t see herself scaling the fence without significant personal injury. Could she slide in between the gates? Yeah, right. She’d enjoyed Owen’s cooking way too much for that sort of feat.

She got out of the car and slung the messenger bag across her shoulders.

The gate would be the most reinforced spot. It stood to reason that this point of entry would be most obvious. So, she had to think creatively. And fast.

It only took twenty minutes to get to the garage and she’d told the guy where to meet her halfway here. He could show up at any moment, or hell, he could already be here.

She should have waited until she was inside to tell him where she was, but they were up against the clock. Owen had already called her twice, and she’d ignored both. How long until he figured out where she was?

What was she going to tell him when this was over?

The truth.

She’d given up this dream for them. He wouldn’t like it, but it was that or death.

Quinn circled to the back alley.

An old, gnarled tree had grown right up against the property line. It appeared that the new fence had been built to circumvent the tree. At least until a large limb fell. If she had to guess, it’d happened recently.

She pushed the limb. It didn’t budge. The thing was as big around as she was, and probably twice her weight what with the length and offshoots taken into consideration.

This was about the only chance she was getting.

Quinn grasped a low hanging branch still attached to the main tree, planted her foot in the Y of the broken branch and hoisted herself up. Her flip-flop slid before finding purchase against the gnarled wood. She grabbed another branch farther up the downed limb and used that to help pull herself up and along the path.

The limb quivered and shook under her, but it was braced too firmly between the trunk and a the fence support.

She was sweating and contemplating losing her sandals entirely by the time she reached the top of the fence. The chain link groaned under her weight, but held. Her knees were another story. Her thighs screamed, her calves ached. She wasn’t in any sort of shape to do this. If she survived, she’d do something about her footwear and exercise.

Quinn sat on the intersection of the trunk and fence, staring at the ground.

Now, how to get down?

Maybe if she could hang from the fence, she could sort of drop?

It wasn’t going to be a fun landing, but she might not get hurt.

There wasn’t time to figure out an easier way down.

She twisted, grasping the chain link in one hand and the metal pole with the other. Her flip-flops slipped and slid down the chain link until she was dangling by her hands.

This was a terrible idea.

She had all the regret..

Here went nothing...

She let go, free falling to earth. Or all of the three or so feet between her and the ground. She hit feet first and went down into a crouch. The impact jarred up her knees and hips into her spine.

God, she hated flip-flops.

Quinn stood, shaking out one foot then the other.

She was in.

And relatively unhurt.

Good.

She strode across the open lot.

One of the bay doors was open.

That was...strange.

Had it been open earlier?

Why would Duke’s guys leave the doors open like that?

She peered into the darkness.

“Quinn?” a man whispered.

“Who’s there?”

Big John stepped into the light, glancing around. The grizzled biker was in sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“Come in here. Now,” he said.

Shit.

She’d forgotten about him.

Did he know?

If Owen knew where she was, then John likely knew.

This whole thing was going to hell in a hand basket.

“John? I need you to go back upstairs.” She crossed the lot, doing her best to keep the flip-flops from slapping on the pavement. “I can’t explain—I just need you to pretend like I’m not here.”

“This is a bad idea,” he said. It was the way he said it. He knew. Maybe everything or just enough, it didn’t matter.

“There’s no time to argue with you. This is the only way. Please? Go upstairs.”

“I can’t let you put your life in danger.” John wrapped his big, meaty hand around her wrist and tugged her deeper into the main garage.

“John—”

A shadow moved, separating itself from the deeper darkness.

Quinn screamed.

The shadow seemed to materialize into the form of a man dressed in all black. He swung a wrench, clocking John upside the head. He went down to the concrete like a load of bricks. Heavy. With a sickening thud.

“Oh, my God!” Quinn took a step back, hands over her face.

The attacker pulled out a gun and pointed it at her.

“Wait!” She held out her hands. “I brought it. Just like we agreed.”

“All I needed to know was where the battery was. Thanks.” He chuckled.

It was a trap.

Deep down, part of her had expected this. Wondered if she could trust him.

Now she knew she couldn’t.

At least she’d been able to tell Owen she loved him.

Something snarled.

The gun went off, the sound echoing off the tin and concrete.

Quinn braced herself for the pain, for death.

Owen sprinted straight at the chain-link fence.

They’d all heard the shot. He’d seen the flash of muzzle fire.

He threw himself at the fence, pulling himself up by sheer force. He got his feet over the top and vaulted over. His shirt caught, ripping up the back. He landed, already running.

A figure lay on the ground up ahead. It was too big to be Quinn. John? Owen hoped not. He prayed not.

Quinn was in there.

The others called after him.

He couldn’t wait.

What if Quinn had been shot?

What if she were dying right now?

What if he could save her?

He skidded around the bay door, his eyes struggling to see in the dim light. The smells of the garage, grease, oil, and the aroma of gunpowder assaulted his senses.

Big John groaned, rolling to his side.

“Stay down,” Owen said to the man.

A dog yelped and cried out. Another man straightened.

Quinn wound her arms up and struck out with a wrench as long as his forearm. She caught the guy in the shoulder, but he rammed into her, knocking her to the ground.

Oh, hell no.

Owen dove forward, charging the suspect.

Quinn rolled aside.

He hit the attacker in the chest, pushing him against the work bench.

The dim light briefly fell across the man’s face.

It was Hansel.

Owen hauled back and punched him in the face.

Hansel howled in pain and flung his arm out, backhanding Owen.

He hardly felt the blow. He grasped the guy’s other wrist and twisted.

Hansel swung around, something in his hand, and bashed it against the side of Owen’s head. He staggered back, his vision blurring from the blow.

“Look out!” Quinn yelled.

Owen ducked, but not enough. Something hard hit him in the side.

The dog snarled again, closer.

“Fucking—ah!”

Owen heard the deep-chested growls of the animal.

He turned as Quinn darted past him, and swung the wrench. Her bag moved with her, pitching her off balance, but she still got Hansel in the shoulder.

The man reached out, grabbing Quinn. In moments, he had his arm around her neck.

“I’ll break her neck,” Hansel called out. “All of you—back. And call this damn dog off. Ah!”

Quinn’s eyes glistened in the light.

The dog had its teeth in Hansel’s calf and wasn’t letting go.

Quinn glanced down and to the right, staring at a spot behind Owen.

“All right.” Owen took a step back. “No one has to get hurt. Here, boy.”

“You, back with the others!” Hansel turned, trying to keep the guys moving around to flank him in sight.

There was a gun under the work bench.

Hansel wasn’t armed.

All he had were threats.

Worst case scenario... they could pull back and wait.

No, he could still kill Quinn and complete his job.

What did Owen do?

“I want everyone out of here, or I break her neck,” Hansel called out. He dug his other hand in her hair, shoving her face down.

Owen saw the flash of teeth.

Hansel screamed, the pitch rising.

The dog snarled.

Owen dove forward, yanking Quinn into his arms. Duke was right behind him. He grabbed Hansel with one hand and kicked the guy’s legs out from under him.

“John, come get your damn dog. I told you, no dogs in the garage. What the fuck, man?”

Those were maybe the most words Owen had ever heard Duke say at once.

“Come on.” Owen kept his arms around Quinn. “There’s a gun there, Blake.”

“On it.” Blake crossed to stand next to the weapon. They wouldn’t touch it until the cops with badges arrived, but someone needed to keep an eye on it.

Duke and the others were all over Hansel. He wasn’t getting out of this one.

That left Owen with Quinn.

He hauled her outside into the fresh air.

Light glinted off tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide. Scared.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He let go of her.

She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth.

“I was trying to make him stop. He’d said he’d stop.” She pulled the sleeve of his hoodie down and swiped it across her face.

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. He said he would.”

“Why would you believe him? What would make you think he was telling you the truth? That’s not a smart thing to do.” He was talking too loud. There was too much adrenaline in his system. He needed to cool down. But she could have died. Again. And this time, it’d have been her fault.

“I don’t know, Owen!” She glared at him, her gaze focused.

“That was stupid, Quinn. You’re smarter than this. God! You could have died. Don’t you get that?”

“Don’t you dare touch me. You think I didn’t consider the risk? Me? I did! I have Kierra and you to think about.” She took a step back. “I did it to make that man go away. I did it for you.”

“Well, that was stupid. You can’t do this—”

“Fuck you. You’re stupid. I don’t need you.”

“Quinn—”

“No, don’t come near me.” She held up her hands. “He wasn’t going to leave us alone. What about Kierra? What if he killed you? I had to think about more than just what I wanted. I chose to take a risk that he was telling the truth and would stop. I had to take a chance. What the hell could you have done? You aren’t a cop anymore, Owen. You can’t protect us. This is my goddamn life, Owen. You’re just playing in it. You don’t get to call me stupid.”

He stood there stunned as her words slapped him in the face.

She was right. He had no ability to protect her, and that grated. But she’d never held it against him before.

“Quinn, that wasn’t—”

“No. I don’t want to hear any more from you.” She shoved at his hands.

The lights of the police cars cast long shadows on the building

Quinn backed up, putting space between them.

He wanted to hug and strangle her, all at once.

Didn’t she know they had to stay the course? Do the right thing? It was the only way to win this.