Midnight Secrets - By Ella Grace Page 0,158
a grueling night in the ER. They had walked onto the elevator together, along with a couple of other people. Someone had asked for a floor number to be pressed, and he and Sam had reached for the button at the same time. He’d practically smashed her finger and had turned to apologize. Whatever words he’d been about to say were instantly forgotten. Beautiful, brilliant sunshine had invaded his life in an instant.
After his divorce, he had vowed he would never become seriously involved with a woman again—or at least not until he was much older. But now he could definitely see having a long-term relationship with Sam. Not marriage. He was done with marriage. But something deeper than the temporary sexual relationships he’d had since his divorce.
Right now, their hectic schedules prevented them from seeing each other every day. Living together would make it easier on both of them. Waking up beside Sam every morning was something he could definitely get used to.
He wasn’t ready to share his feelings with her yet, but he knew it wouldn’t be long. And he hoped to hell he wasn’t misreading what he’d seen in her eyes. Finally he had found someone he could believe in and trust.
The screech of tires pulled Quinn from his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a dark streak, like a vehicle leaving in a hurry. Someone most likely late for work.
Pulling in a deep breath, he got out of the car. This wasn’t going to get any easier … might as well get this behind him. With quick, determined strides, Quinn headed across the street. Two minutes. That’s all the time he would give Charlene. If not for the necklace, he wouldn’t even consider coming back here.
He wasn’t as stupid as she apparently thought. The necklace was to get him inside her house so she could once again try to seduce him back to her bed. That ploy hadn’t worked the dozens or so times she had tried. Would never work. But he did want the damn necklace and was willing to stomach her presence for the two minutes it would take to reject her and get what belonged to him.
Totally focused on the front door, he barely glanced at the massive two-story, light brown brick house Charlene had gotten in the divorce settlement. Purchased eight months before their divorce, the house had never been home to Quinn. Before that, they’d had a perfectly nice condo in the city. Charlene had insisted that decorating her own home would fill her creative void.
A few weeks after they moved in, the unsatisfactory marriage he’d stubbornly been keeping together unraveled further. Quinn had spent most of his nights on the sofa in his study. But one day he’d gone to talk to a friend and had gotten his socks blown off. Seeing Nate and Charlene together on the man’s couch had cleared up so many things. Instead of the fury other men might have experienced, Quinn had felt only immense relief. At last, he could let go.
That day might have been the end of his marriage but it was also the day he’d finally started living again.
Quinn rang the doorbell and waited. When there was no immediate answer, he pounded on the door and was surprised when it squeaked open. Charlene had probably left it open, thinking he’d just come inside. That wasn’t going to happen.
Pushing the door open wider, he stayed on the other side and called out, “Charlene, I’m here.”
The vile stench of blood attacked his senses immediately and caught him off guard. The stink of violence was a scent he knew all too well. Unlike the hospital, where the smell was almost drowned out by antiseptic cleanliness, this was intense and brutal. The way it smelled in battle. He’d been an army combat medic. The foul odors of carnage and dismemberment were scents you never got used to or forgot.
He pushed the door open further and saw the blood. Then he saw her. Lying on the floor, facedown, blood pooled everywhere. God, there was so much of it.
Training kicked in—Quinn didn’t think, he acted. Rushing forward, he dropped to his knees, touched her neck to feel for a pulse. Was that a faint flicker? Holding her neck and head in place, he gently rolled her onto her back and saw immediately why there was so much blood. Her throat had been cut, nicked at the carotid artery. She could bleed out in seconds.
Her eyes flickered open, the light blue depths glazed with pain. There was no recognition in them. Quinn had seen it too often not to know she was mere seconds from death.
“Charlene? Stay with me. You’re going to be all right. Try to stay awake.”
She opened her mouth to speak but there was only a gurgling sound.
Quinn’s hand on her throat stopped some of the bleeding but it was seeping through his fingers. She raised her hand toward his face. Quinn grabbed for it but not before she slashed him with her nails across his face. He jerked back and her hand fell to the floor. One last gurgle emerged from her. Quinn watched as her eyes went still and unfocused in death.
Dammit, if only he’d come a few minutes earlier. The only thing to be done now was to call the police and alert them to a murder. Standing, he put his hand in his pocket for his cellphone. The door behind him slammed against the wall. Quinn whirled around.
“Take your hand from your pocket and put both of them in the air.”
A uniformed policeman stood at the door, his gun pointed at Quinn.
Easing his hand out of his pocket, he raised his hands, revealing his phone. “I was just about to call the police.
She’s dead.”
“No shit. Looks like you made sure of that.”
The sick feeling in his stomach sunk lower in his gut. “I didn’t do this. I tried to save her.”
“Yeah, right. Just keep your hands up.” The officer glanced over his shoulder at his partner and said, “Cuff him and read him his rights.”
Knowing that arguing would do no good, Quinn held his words. As his wrists were cuffed, he took one last look at the sad, horrible end to the woman on the floor. She’d been a pathetic, miserable human being and he’d lost any affection for her long ago, but she hadn’t deserved this.
In the backseat of the patrol car, headed to the police station, one thought comforted him. At least he knew who he could call. Sam would figure out what to do about this mess. If there was anyone he could count on, it was Samantha Wilde.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Epilogue
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Excerpt from Midnight Lies