She turns, and her smile speaks of the intimacy we shared. But then, instead of looking at me, her eyes move and her entire demeanor shifts.
I drop my bags and step closer, ready to race over and defend her from whatever caused my girl’s mood to snap like a bear trap. As soon as I look to the side, I see the issue—the tacky blue bulletproof vests DEA and Interpol wear have the rest of the lounge clearing out pretty quickly.
But not her. She stands just out of my reach.
I’ve done this dance enough and expect them to come for me, but one of the officers beelines to her. And that sets a switch off in my brain.
“Stay the fuck away from her,” I shout, making a play for the man’s wrist to stop him.
My fingers glance over his arm before my own arm is ripped off him, and I’m thrown down on the carpet with guns aimed in my direction in the next breath.
I should try to listen to what they’re barking at me, but it’s not important. I've heard the song before; I know the dance. The counterfeit passport is ripped out of my hands, but the only thing that registers is the prick closing in on my girl.
“Kade? What are you doing?”
That pulls me up, and the fight that gathers under my skin stalls. The rage continues to twist my insides, and I know the shitty situation I’m in, but she is, and always will be, more important.
The fuckwit I was trying to reach keeps walking toward her. “Quinn, I saw you with him. Are you okay?”
Her name winds through my thoughts, and I think idly how it suits her perfectly. It’s beautiful, and I feel better knowing it.
“Am I okay? I’m not sure it’s any of your business. Who are you?” she bites, and her tone is like fingernails on a chalkboard; it makes me even closer to going off at him.
“What? How can you say that?” he asks, demanding an answer.
She stares right through him. Her head tips to the side, and her pretty mouth draws into a harsh line. “Pretty easily, Kade. I don’t date officers of the law. If you’d told me that straight up, instead of pretending you were someone else, we could have saved a lot of time.”
I nearly choke on my spit as my relief surges. She gives him a serving offuck you. It’s amazing to watch.
He won’t let up, though, and he steps closer, his hands outstretched for hers. “We weren’t casually dating, Quinn. We were a hell of a lot more serious than that.”
She sighs softly, and I’m thrown by the genuine compassion coating her features. “We all see things differently, Kade. For instance, I saw you working in an office, especially after you kept telling me you were an accountant, but here you are in an Interpol vest. And now I’m left wondering if you do their accounts, or were you lying out your ass the whole time?” She hooks her fingers a few times, and her voice dips dangerously when she overemphasizes bothaccountantandInterpol.
He’s chagrined and doesn’t reply or argue with anything she throws at him. I mean, what can he say? He apparently fucking lied.
She stares him down before intentionally lifting her hand so the engagement ring nearly blinds us all.
“Fuck’s sake, Quinn, you’re engaged to Santiago Cabal? He’s Cartel!”
“Don’t say my name like you know me. And,agent, who I marry is of no concern to you. If my dating were something you should know about, though, let me assure you—I don’t date officers of the law. Period.” All her words are spilling and burning like lava.
I chuckle under my breath, loving the way she deals with him so viciously. It’s both attractive and amusing. My laughter draws her attention my way. And when she looks at me, she doesn’t hide any of her fury. I try to get to my feet, to explain who I am, but the fuckhead behind me caps me each time I try to raise up.
Her head tips to the side, her eyes not moving from mine, but she’s clearly talking tohim,although I get the message loud and clear. “I have no clue who he is, apparently, either. But I guess because you are so interested in my type, I’ll let you in onone more thing—I don’t date criminals. Now excuse me, I have a flight I can’t miss.”
I watch him and realize he’s a kindred spirit. One that I’ll deal with later.
“Quinn? Quinn!” I call out for her, but she blatantly ignores me.
With a flick of her hair and a raise of her chin, the woman who was boneless in my arms, and licking come off my lips, less than an hour ago has left the building. Quite literally.
She walks away, and no one, me included, stops her. My chest feels like it’s being cleaved in two. It’s so fucking wrong that she is walking away from me. From us.
I ready myself to race after her, but before I’ve climbed to my feet, my head snaps back, the inquisitive prick she pretty much tore pieces off punches me square in the face.
“Cabal,” he roars as he gets so close his words blow my hair, “you don’t get to say her name.”
He fucking punched me. He’s lucky I don’t rip his arms from his fucking body for stopping me. I look around the airport, and there’s too many people watching. Getting away with murder is literally not happening today.
