Quinn’s Battle (Team KOA Bravo #4)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

The next two days were a blur of frustration for Dahlia. Somehow everyone was making decisions about her life, citing safety concerns and precautions. Hard to argue when everyone cared so much. She’d been right to be wary about being Quinn’s focal point. The man embodied intensity. What had been exciting and tempting before the break-in had only increased with his determination to protect her.

Though she enjoyed Quinn’s company and felt more secure with him around, she missed her independence. This wasn’t exactly how she would’ve chosen to date anyone, much less the man she found irresistibly attractive. The constant togetherness was a crash course for relationships in general. Although he’d never promised her any time beyond his remaining leave, she was already chafing at the timeline. While he was here, she wanted to have fun and enjoy a hot fling, not become a job to him.

But that’s where they were.

Oh, they were having some fun between her work schedule and various obligations. He parked himself at the end of the bar, watching her with heat smoldering in his deep brown eyes when he wasn’t scanning for threats. None appeared. There had been no sign of Steen or car exchanges since the night he’d used the fake twenties at Ohana. Was that solely because of Quinn, or had the culprits found better things to do?

Not knowing made her antsy.

She’d met with Cassie, had a video call with her lawyer in Chicago, Nolan Swann, and confirmed things were fine with her family at home and on their job sites. She didn’t believe the vandalism and break-in at her home were random, but it seemed the danger had passed.

Too bad no one agreed with her.

Discouraging as it was, she had to defer to the expertise of others. Security and investigations weren’t her specialties. All she really knew about counterfeiting was how to spot a fake bill. It wasn’t so easy to roll along letting others watch out for her. And eventually, it caught up to her and she dissolved into tears on Emery’s shoulder after closing last night.

To be fair, the crying jag was rooted in anger and exasperation. Thankfully, it was just the two of them in the bar kitchen when the breakdown hit. Like the friend she was, Emery covered for her when Quinn walked in, giving her a few precious minutes to pull herself together.

The moment of weakness was proof that she needed to chat with Quinn about reclaiming some control over her life. And she had to discuss it without being rude or sounding ungrateful.

Because Quinn wasn’t the problem. Not really. Through it all, he’d been vigilant on her behalf. Even better, he’d kept up his role as her make-out bodyguard. When they were alone, she practically threw herself at him. Tender, hot kisses and tantalizing touches would burst into an inferno she didn’t want to resist. Yet somehow, she still hadn’t invited him to share the bed.

What was wrong with her?

That was the question she’d asked Emery last night. Her friend had poured out the sympathy, murmuring nonsense about honoring her feelings and following her intuition. As if Dahlia wasn’t ready for helpful insight or answers. Somehow that made things worse. Usually, she made a decision and moved forward. It’s how she’d been all her life. Set the target and go for it.

With Quinn she couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her hesitation. What good was gained by holding back? Their time together was limited. Probably. Even if he stayed in Hawaii, there was no guarantee he’d want to stick with her when this situation was over.

She pressed a hand to the ache in her chest. She was overthinking this.

Definitely. He consumed nearly every waking thought when she wasn’t actively serving a customer. Not even the questions about counterfeiting derailed her fascination with her SEAL-turned-bodyguard.

Only one thing was absolutely clear: she was missing out. Just kissing Quinn was better than her previous sexual encounters. Which fueled her imagination and gave her confidence that if and when they did take things further, it would be life-altering.

She was still living—hiding—at Quinn’s cabin. The closest she got to her own home was when he let her watch the security camera feeds with him. But this morning, she was determined to be more herself.

Starting with riding her motorcycle to another meeting at the resort. She would not compromise on that. Cassie wanted to speak with them after her agency resources turned up some new information.

After that, she would insist on making firm plans for her next day off. Quinn said he’d rented the motorcycle so he could ask her out and she could give him a tour of the island. She wanted to do something that felt like a real date, even if he was still her official protector.

“Are you ready?” Quinn waited by the door, swinging the keys to the loaner Jeep around his finger.

She picked up her bag and her helmet. “Let’s go,” she said, walking out into a bright and sunny day. He couldn’t use weather as an excuse. There might be a shower or two in the forecast, per the usual, but she wouldn’t melt.

“What are you doing?”

“Driving to the meeting. Grab your helmet.” She smiled, but he only scowled.

“That’s not the plan,” he reminded her.

It wasn’t. She was springing this on him when she’d promised herself she’d discuss it. “Can we change the plan? Please?”

He remained rooted on the porch. “Why?”

“I’m getting swallowed up,” she said, shocking herself with the bald admission. “I need to do this.”

“Drive?”

“Among other things,” she grumbled. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your help.”

“You do not.” A sexy tilt of his lips softened the accusation. “You’re used to doing things your own way, on your schedule.”

“Yes.”

“I get it.” He walked up and held out his hand. “You want to be home.”

“Yes.” The word slipped past her lips on a whisper. He did this to her, made her breathless with only a look. “I can’t stand it. Not knowing,” she clarified. “This can’t go on indefinitely, right?”

“Right.” His brow furrowed and his gaze drifted past her. “I know what it’s like to not have a say in the way things work out.”

His voice, the haunted look in his eyes, revealed there was more to that story. “Quinn.” She wanted to know and would bet good money he needed to share.

He shook his head slightly. “I’m not as confident guarding you on the bike.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “Can we compromise? You can drive the loaner to and from the meeting and we’ll ride to your shift tonight.”

“Seriously?” That small concession lifted a weight from her shoulders.

His expression was somber, but he nodded in agreement. “Let’s go.” He traded the keys for her helmet, setting it aside on the chair. “You don’t want to be late.”

She stepped in front of him, stopping him mid-stride. His big hands caught around her waist to keep from toppling her over. She gripped his shoulder with her free hand and kissed him soundly. He shifted, bringing her flush against his body, and taking the kiss to new heights.

Her head fell back and his lips trailed along the column of her throat. “So, you do want to be late.”

Quinn would be worth any excuse she had to make. “I wouldn’t mind,” she confessed.

“Cassie has information.”

He was right. She groaned and slowly slid to her feet, enjoying the way her body flowed over his. They would be so good together. Why couldn’t she get out of her own way and just go for it? Go for him? “It better be excellent information.”

His rough laugh followed her to the Jeep.

She drove away from the ranch and out toward the resort. With the top down, the wind ruffled her hair and the top she wore. Not quite the same as driving her motorcycle, but close. “Thank you for understanding,” she said.

“My middle name,” he quipped.

“Really?” She spared a quick glance, careful not to get distracted by that chiseled profile.

“It’s not what’s on my birth certificate, if that’s what you mean.” Even in the passenger seat, he was doing the vigilant thing, scanning the horizon, checking the side mirror.

“What is on the birth certificate?” She wasn’t sure why she was digging. Maybe it was just better than thinking about a potential threat lurking just out of sight.

He stretched his fingers wide for a moment, then shifted, propping an elbow on the door frame. It struck her as a deliberate effort to relax.

“Langford.” The word was barely audible over the engine and road noise.

“A family name?”

He didn’t answer and she let it go. Better to focus on her driving. She reached the resort and she pulled into a parking space in the employee area. Turning off the engine, she pocketed the keys and reached for the door handle, but he stopped her.

The sadness in his eyes made her heart ache. “Langford was also my mother’s middle name,” he said. “It’s only a guess, but I don’t think she had an original idea for me after Quinn.”

“You never asked her?”

“Never had the chance,” he said. “She dumped me into the foster care system before I was old enough to care about my name.”

And she was a complete jerk. He’d mentioned foster care a few days ago. Reaching over, she gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry.” For pushing him as well as for what must’ve been a challenging childhood.

“Water under the bridge,” he said. “I was five. I adapted.”

Old enough to know his mom and grieve being separated from her. “But you didn’t understand.”

To her surprise, he laughed again. “No. I was a kid. I’ve earned my new middle name in the years since.”

“Personal growth is a good thing,” she said as they walked into the resort. “It’s good your brothers can count on you being the understanding one.”

“Do me a favor and don’t mention it to them.”

She glanced over her shoulder, leading the way toward Cassie’s office. “Challenge accepted,” she teased. She wouldn’t put him on the spot. Whether they labeled it or not—and as men they probably didn’t dwell on it—Quinn was the understanding one. At least from her vantage point. She’d been studying the man since his first visit to Ohana’s. She’d seen the way they talked, watched the body language in the bar and in other venues. The mutual respect between those four men was a beautiful thing.

Not that she’d mention it and make everyone uncomfortable.

Cassie was pacing behind her desk when they walked in, her head bent as she studied the screen of the tablet in her hands. Dahlia recognized the intense expression, having seen it on Quinn’s face plenty when he was reviewing surveillance.

She and Quinn hesitated near the doorway until Cassie looked up and waved them in. “Perfect timing.” She didn’t sound happy about it. “Have a seat.” When they were settled, she turned the tablet so they could see the screen. “We found that flashy blue car.” She tapped the still image. “It was set on fire early this morning, in front of a renovation your brothers are working on.”

Stunned, Dahlia sat there, unable to make sense of the images on the screen. The car was unrecognizable to her. A heap of charred metal. The location was familiar, though. Her brothers were a couple of weeks away from getting that property on the market. A delay would be costly, not just for this project, but for the business overall.

“A message,” Quinn said. “They know Dahlia and those closest to her.”

They who? Would Steen and the lawyer really torch a car because she’d noticed it? Because she’d reported fake money in the till? None of this made sense to her.

“Agreed.” Cassie’s lips flatlined.

“The house?” Dahlia managed.

“Is fine,” Cassie assured her. “The car is a warning. The police are handling it. I’ve put people in place to watch over your family.”

A cold ball of fear lodged in the pit of her stomach. This was not the news she’d hoped for. “Thank you,” Dahlia whispered, her mouth dry. “Why?” All of this baffled her. “What’s the point? I can’t be the only person who noticed Steen and Morton meeting here.”

“You’re not,” Cassie confirmed. “I’ve been interviewing other employees, but they haven’t been singled out.”

“What else?” Quinn asked, as if that was a totally reasonable inquiry. “Did the K9 team turn up anything?”

Cassie sat back in her chair. “Yes. I called in Drayton and Boo when the car returned to the resort last night, just after sunset. Boo gave a positive alert, so we have reason to believe there was some evidence in the car. Be it explosives, counterfeit bills, or the supplies to print more money. I don’t think the K9 alert prompted this.” She indicated the burned car on the tablet. “Drayton had simply walked through the parking lot like any number of tourists.”

“They trashed it to send a message and destroy evidence.”

“That’s my theory, yes. Two birds, one stone.”

Dahlia felt utterly helpless. She followed the conversation, but had nothing to contribute. She hated this. Couldn’t sit still while more plans were made that would affect how she lived her life. Beside her, Quinn was all business. Cool, composed, and calculating the adjustments needed.

Not thinking about any benefits, just the job.

She’d always been able to take care of herself. She didn’t want to hide, to cower, to feel as if she needed a wall of protection between her and the world. “What does it mean? What are the next steps? And don’t tell me I have to sit and wait.”

“All right.” Cassie gave her a resigned smile. “I understand the need to act,” she assured Dahlia. “Ideally, we’d figure out why Steen and Morton see you as a threat.”

Great, another mystery. “There’s no reason for them to worry about me,” she insisted. “None at all.” She pushed at her hair. “We can’t prove Steen passed those bills in the bar.”

“But you’ve seen him exchange cars out there.”

“Barely. It was dark and the surveillance cameras were inconclusive.”

“Maybe they don’t know that,” Quinn said.

She snorted. “Of course they know it’s a relatively safe location or they wouldn’t park in the same spot.” Quinn and Cassie silently agreed.

“Something else then,” Cassie said. “Something you’ve forgotten since you’ve started keeping tabs on their meetings here.”

She slumped back in her chair, gritting her teeth. “The only thing close is me closing on the same night Steen was in the bar and presumably passing those fake twenties.”

“Which we can track,” Quinn reminded her.

“That’s a convoluted shell game,” Cassie said. “Circumstantial at best, I’m told. Even if we caught Steen with a few funny bills, that won’t prove he’s the source. This is a lucrative enterprise and Morton being here in the middle of it makes me think something more serious is going down.”

“And my family’s caught up in it by association.” Dahlia was dangerously close to tears again, with no good friend to lean on.

Quinn covered her hand with his. “We’re making progress.”

Dahlia stared at him. “Don’t go blowing smoke.” She didn’t need platitudes, not with this brushing up against her family. “This can’t be happening.”

“Your family has protection,” Cassie assured her again.

She covered her face as a brittle laugh escaped her. “I had security cameras and they still trashed my place and planted a stack of fake bills. The resort and bar have security and yet, Steen keeps getting away with whatever he’s doing.”

“Who does the sports car belong to?”

“Officially registered to a local import-export company.” Cassie said. “According to their lawyers, a team that doesn’t include Morton, the car was loaned out to a visiting exec from the mainland.”

“Steen’s no executive,” Quinn grumbled. “Is the company legit?”

“Barely.” Cassie scowled. “In addition to the now-torched car, our researchers found three primary assets: a midsize trawler that probably moves more than fish, a small motel, and a warehouse. All of which are in and around Kona.”

“Any sign of Steen near those locations?”

Cassie spun a pen slowly around the desktop. “We just started looking into that.”

“But he was with the sports car,” Dahlia said. “He has to be tied in somehow.” She perked up as inspiration hit. “We were going for a drive anyway.” She turned to Quinn. “We can start our island tour with a drive to Kona.”

“No.”

She didn’t appreciate the finality in his tone. “Quinn.” He couldn’t expect her to sit still and do nothing.

“We need to figure out why they’re stuck on you,” he explained.

“Then it’s a good thing I like to talk and think during a scenic drive.”

He rolled his eyes, but she had him. His curiosity or compassion were winning out.

“Dahlia—”

“I’ve got this,” Quinn interrupted Cassie’s certain attempt to dissuade her. “You’re tracking my cell phone?”

“And hers,” Cassie confirmed. “You’re in a loaner from Hawk?”

“We are.” Quinn stood. “I assume he has some kind of tracker on it too.”

“I’ll coordinate with him as needed.”

Dahlia popped to her feet, eager to get going before either of them changed their mind. She couldn’t let this chance slip away. They needed to lead the authorities to Steen and get some real answers before her family got hurt.