Free Maximum Risk by Jennifer Lowery Page A

“Don’t you dare lay this on Quinn. He didn’t—”
    Quinn grabbed her arm and she spun to glare at him.
    “Enough, Avery,” he growled.
    She yanked her arm free. “No, Quinn. I have to do this.”
    He leaned in to pin her with a hard stare. “No. You don’t.”
    Deep-seated pain shown in his eyes, despite his anger. She had to do this. If they wouldn’t fight for him, she would.
    Another hand landed on her arm and spun her around. Facing the young woman who’d slapped Quinn, Avery stared into her red-rimmed hazel eyes. Her nails dug painfully into Avery’s arm.
    “You got my fiancé killed?” she spat.
    Avery lifted her chin. Dani . Oh, God. “I’m sorry.”
    What color remained in the woman’s face drained away and Avery hated herself for causing Ryan’s fiancée more pain.
    Quinn stepped in, reaching for Dani’s hand. “Dani, don’t—”
    Dani launched herself at Avery. Her nails raked her face. “You got my Ryan killed, you—”
    Kell pulled Dani off. Avery clamped a hand over her stinging cheek, tears floating in her eyes. She refused to let them fall in front of these people. They didn’t need her tears. Didn’t deserve them.
    Quinn glared at her even as he blocked her with his body. Refusing to let him shoulder any more blame, she stepped around his arm, dodging his hand when he reached for her. Addressing the room she said, “I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.”
    Then on legs that shook, she turned and walked past Quinn out the door. The instant her feet touched the deck a sob escaped her lips and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Pain built in her chest as she looked around for somewhere to go. She ran to the end of the deck only to see a navy blue lake behind the house.
    Trapped, she spun around and jumped the foot to the ground, cried out on impact, and ran toward Quinn’s truck, ignoring the ache in her feet. Desperate for escape, she scrambled into the driver’s seat and slammed the door closed. With a shaky hand she found the keys in the ignition.
    “Thank God,” she breathed through the hysteria rising in her throat, and turned the key, bringing the powerful engine to life. After throwing the big truck into reverse she stomped on the gas. Someone shouted her name. She changed gears and flew down the driveway, blinded by tears she never shed.
    She swiped them away with the back of her hand, then gripped the wheel, and pushed the gas pedal down. The truck shot forward, fishtailing on the gravel road. She never should have gone with Quinn. Never should have gone to Azbakastan. If she hadn’t, Ryan would be alive, her friends would be alive, and none of them would be suffering.
    More tears streamed down her cheeks as she took a hard right, remembering the route Quinn had taken. Everything was wrong. She shouldn’t be here.
    Gut-wrenching sobs choked her as she brought the truck to a skidding stop in front of Quinn’s house. She fumbled with the door handle and nearly fell on her face when it opened. Leaving the door wide open, she ran into the house and straight to her bedroom where she slammed the door. Quinn’s borrowed bloody shirt lay on the floor, tainted with Ryan’s blood. Her own blood.
    Memories of what they’d done to her flooded in. The pain. Her screams. The times she couldn’t scream. The missile hitting the Land Cruiser. Scott taking a bullet.
    Oh God.
    Unable to process, Avery pummeled the fabric with her fists. Over and over she swung until the pain in her arms overshadowed the pain in her heart.
    A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, picked her up off the ground and swung her away from the bed. Still aching inside, she kicked and fought to be free. The arms held tight, body taut.
    “Let me go.” Her heel landed a blow and sent a jolt of pain up her leg, which only frustrated her more.
    “Avery, stop.”
    Quinn’s gruff command penetrated the emotions pounding inside her. Avery deflated like a balloon and slumped in his arms, chest