Free Extraction Point (Ricochet #3) by Heather C. Leigh Page B

weathered face looking weary but determined.
    “Soldiers? So, you’re not fighters?”
    Ben laughed. “We are, Quinn. We happen to be excellent fighters, but Mack recruited us for our military skills.”
    “Oh.” Rick felt Quinn slump back onto his lap, most likely too dazed to ask any more questions. Dane put the first aid kit away, done wrapping her fingers up in soft gauze. “That explains the bullet wound,” she whispered.
    “Now, we need a plan.” Mack sat back down. “Quinn, with you aware of the full extent of our capabilities, we don’t have to sneak around behind your back. What I’m saying is, we can without a doubt, stop your ex from ever getting near you again.”
     
     
     
     
    Quinn couldn’t believe what was happening.
    I’m going to wake up, and this will all have been a dream. Travis didn’t find me, Rick didn’t come out of the gym with a loaded gun, and my father’s oldest friend doesn’t run a secret mercenary for hire operation.
    She ran her eyes over every man in Sanctum’s conference room. Ben Price, the kind, unassuming man, was dressed from head to toe in black, looking like some kind of lethal ninja. Clint, her best friend’s husband, was agitated and angry, the tight white T-shirt he had on overshadowed by the leather double shoulder holster strapped around him. The shiny black and chrome grips of two very large handguns were clearly visible under his bulky biceps.
    As she continued around the table, she noticed every man in similar gear—armed, ready, and most definitely willing to do battle for her. She felt like the only human standing on the top of Mount Olympus, surrounded by gods with innumerable powers.
    “I’m…” she rubbed her head, feeling dizzy. “I—I…” Quinn jumped to her feet. “I need a minute.” She dashed out of the room and across the hall. Grabbing a bottle of water out of the break room fridge, Quinn chugged half of it while standing in front of the open refrigerator.
    This is too much. A man I’ve known my whole life… Clint, Rick… they kill people for a living.
    Quinn’s heart sped up and panic flooded her body. The reality of everything hit her. Her husband wants to kill her, her boyfriend wants to kill her husband, her dad’s oldest friend runs illegal covert operations… what next? She bent over, putting her hands on her knees and letting her head hang as she caught her breath.
    Someone entered the room, closing the door. She felt him come up alongside her, knowing it was Rick just by listening to the way he moved and catching a whiff of his masculine scent.
    “Quinn…” He leaned on the counter next to her, gently rubbing her back.
    “I can’t, Rick. I can’t sit in there right now. I need time to think.”
    “I understand.” He took her arm and pulled her upright, hugging her to his broad chest. She felt calmer instantly, safe in his familiar hold. Rick’s heartbeat was steady and strong in her ear. His presence may be intimidating to others, and he may have killed a lot of people, but for Quinn he was a balm for her shredded psyche.
    “I’ll take you upstairs and get caught up with the guys later. Wait here and let me tell Mack.” She nodded. “I won’t let him get you again, doll. You did great out there, fighting him off.” He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss, his hands coming up to cup her face. “I’ll kill him before he ever gets his hands on you again.” Rick’s eyes flashed with fury right before he pressed one more kiss to her lips, turned, and left the room.
    Quinn thought about what Rick said. “I’ll kill him before he ever gets his hands on you again.” She shivered, knowing he was dead serious, and maybe that scared her just as much as Travis did.
     
     
     
     
    Rick lay next to Quinn on her bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it slowly rotated.
    “No.”
    He twisted his head to watch Quinn as she spoke in her sleep. He was used to her nightmares, some of which came with talking— or even