Never Again

Chesterville, MA

Fifteen Years Earlier

“Let me break your legs,” Grandma said with a firm nod, her grip tightening on her cane as her eyes narrowed dangerously on his legs.

“That’s real sweet, Grandma, but I think I’ll be fine,” Quinn assured her as he leaned down and pulled the small, feisty woman that had raised him since he was a baby into a hug only to smile when she whispered, “I can make it look like an accident.”

“I know you can,” Quinn said, chuckling as he reluctantly released her and-

“Can I have your room when you die?” came the curious question that drew his attention to find his little cousin staring up at him.

Chuckling, Quinn reached over and ruffled Jaxon’s messy hair. “You can have it now,” he said, dropping his hand away so that he could grab his duffle bag and-

“It will only hurt for a minute,” Grandma promised with a solemn nod.

“It’s just boot camp, Grandma. I’ll be fine,” Quinn said as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Promise.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything as she narrowed light grey eyes that matched his own on him while she considered him. “You don’t have to do this. I can find the money to pay for college.”

Biting back a sigh, Quinn murmured, “I know, Grandma,” knowing better than to tell her that he wasn’t planning on going to college. He’d learned his lesson the first time that he made that mistake. But then again, that was his fault for not making sure that she didn’t have her cane before he broke the news to her. God, she was quick when she wanted to be, Quinn thought with a fond smile for the small, terrifying woman that he was going to miss.

“Then let me break your legs,” Grandma said, determined to do whatever it took to stop him from going through with this.

Before he had a chance to respond, Jaxon announced, “Your train’s leaving,” making Quinn frown as he glanced over his shoulder and-

Shit!

“I love you and I’ll write as soon as I can!” Quinn said, giving the small woman determined to hobble him one last kiss before he moved his ass, weaving his way through the early morning crowd and made his way onto the train just as the last horn blew, announcing the departure of the seven-ten a.m. train to Boston.

“It will only hurt for a minute!” came the promise over the soft rattling of the train slowly departing that had Quinn smiling as he stepped into the nearest car and looked out the window to watch his grandmother and cousin standing on the platform. He watched them until the train slowly rounded a corner, and then, they were gone.

Swallowing hard, Quinn reminded himself that he’d see them in a couple of months and moved to take a seat by the window when a small chime had him frowning as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and-

I can make it look like an accident!

-chuckled as he moved to sit down when a flash of movement to his right had him looking up and telling himself that this wasn’t fucking happening.

Not today.

For a moment, he considered pretending that he didn’t see her only to end up sighing heavily as he watched the little girl that had been making his life a living hell for the past ten years suddenly drop out of sight. He should have known that this would happen, Quinn told himself as he made his way down the aisle and tossed his bag on the overhead rack before dropping down on the bench where the little pain in the ass was currently hiding.

As he sat there waiting for her to make her next move, he scrolled through his contacts, looking for someone that he could talk into coming to get her before she got herself into trouble, only to end up sighing when the small, tan hand blindly reached up from underneath the bench and tried to snatch his phone out of his hands. Shaking his head because this was just sad, Quinn said, “You’re getting off at the next stop, Bailey.”

There was a heavy pause, and then, he heard the familiar long-suffering sigh as Bailey Smith climbed out from beneath the bench, dragging the oversized backpack that she never seemed to go anywhere without, behind her and stood up. That was followed by her clearing her throat and a gesture for him to move his legs as she murmured, “Excuse me,” that he ignored as he stretched his legs out, ensuring that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Want to tell me why you’re running away?” Quinn drawled, not bothering to look up as he continued scrolling, debating calling her foster parents, but…

He’d rather avoid that if he could.

No matter how much she annoyed him, and god, did she fucking annoy him, he didn’t want to see her in trouble. Her foster parents were in way over their heads with her and had absolutely no idea what to do with her, so whenever she did anything questionable, they grounded her, taking away her books, video games, and her ability to drive him crazy, which normally wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for one little problem.

“What did Kelly do now?” he asked, quickly running his eyes over her from the hood of her hooded sweatshirt covering her long, wavy caramel hair and fucking sighed when he reached up and pushed her hood back, revealing a rather impressive bruise marring the right side of her face.

Blinking, Bailey asked, “What makes you think that she did something?”

“That bruise, for starters,” Quinn murmured absently as he returned his attention to the problem at hand, finding someone to pick the little pain in the ass up and get her back home before her foster parents had a chance to miss her.

“Fair enough,” came the thoughtful murmur seconds before she finally gave up waiting for him to move his legs out of the way and dropped down on the bench next to him. “I’m not going back.”

“You really are, though,” he told her as he debated asking his grandmother to pick her up only to decide against it knowing that it would end with his grandmother going for her cane when one of her foster parents said something to piss her off.

That left Coach.

He hated asking for a favor, but he really didn’t have a choice, Quinn thought as he sent Coach a quick text message explaining the situation. Barely thirty seconds later, Coach responded, letting him know that he’d pick the little pain in the ass up at the next stop in an hour. Knowing better than to trust her to wait, Quinn considered waiting with her to make sure that she didn’t take off, but that wasn’t an option, not unless he wanted to miss his flight and he knew better than to miss his flight. His recruiter had warned him what would happen if he didn’t show up to boot camp on time.

“You need to tell your foster parents what Kelly and her little friends are doing,” he said, sending one last text thanking Coach for doing this before he slid his phone back in his pocket and focused on the small girl sitting next to him.

“You want me to tattletale?” Bailey asked, frowning at him. “Seriously? That’s your best advice?”

“Do you have a better plan?” he countered even as he had to agree that telling Jennifer and Steve what their favorite foster child was doing probably wouldn’t help.

“Yes,” she said with a firm nod.

At his questioning look, Bailey gestured around them. “You’re not going with me,” Quinn said, deciding to put an end to this asinine plan of hers before it got out of hand.

“Why would I want to go with you?” the little girl that had been following him everywhere since he’d made the mistake of coming to her rescue the first time Kelly and her friends tied her up and stuffed her into the janitor’s closet.

“Because you follow me everywhere,” he said, sighing heavily as he rubbed his hands down his face as the exhaustion that he’d been fighting all morning finally started to catch up with him.

Between running around trying to get everything in order for boot camp and keeping one eye open all night just in case Grandma decided to put her plans to keep him from joining the Marines into action, he was fucking exhausted. He’d planned on catching some sleep on the train ride to the airport, but instead, he had to babysit the little pain in the ass.

“I see,” Bailey murmured, drawing his attention to find her once again frowning in confusion. “And just out of curiosity, what are you basing this on?”

“The fact that I can’t seem to go anywhere without you following me?” Quinn said even though he had to admit that he’d been flattered the first time that he’d realized that she was doing it. She was a cute little thing with big, bright blue eyes, and a warm smile, but she was also fourteen and a pain in his ass.

“Ummm, I live down the street from you and we both went to the same school,” Bailey pointed out with a pitying look that he chose to ignore at the moment.

“And when I’m at football practice?” he asked, watching as the conductor started making his way down the aisle, collecting tickets.

“I like to hide beneath the bleachers, counting down the minutes until I’m forced to go home so that I can avoid ending up another statistic,” she said, nodding solemnly as she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and held it up for the conductor. “Two one-way tickets to Boston, please. My father’s in the bathroom.”

“She’s only going as far as Bridgeport and she’s traveling alone,” Quinn murmured absently as he reached for his wallet only to frown when he didn’t find it.

“He’s in the bathroom,” Bailey repeated while he searched for the wallet that should have been in his back pocket, making him shake his head in disgust if she really thought that story was going to work.

“Where are you going, son?” the conductor asked as Quinn stood up and grabbed his bag off the overhead rack, praying that it was inside.

“Boston,” Quinn said, tearing his bag apart only to mumble, “Oh, god, no,” when he couldn’t find his wallet.

This wasn’t happening.

“Ten dollars,” the conductor said firmly, looking really fucking annoyed to have to stand there waiting.

“I can’t find my wallet,” Quinn said, knowing that he had bigger problems at the moment.

His airplane ticket was in his wallet.

“That’s unfortunate,” Bailey said with a heartfelt sigh and a sad shake of her head. “I’m not sure if this is the right time to mention this, but I have no idea who this man is. He keeps asking me if I like puppies,” she added with a helpless shrug that had the conductor narrowing his eyes on him.

“Wait! She’s kidding,” Quinn said as the conductor stepped out of the way and gestured for him to move his ass. “She knows who I am!”

“I have no idea who he is,” Bailey mouthed with another helpless shrug that was going to get her ass spanked just as the train slowly came to a stop, letting him know that they’d reached the next stop.

“Don’t do this!” Quinn snapped as the conductor grabbed him by the arm and yanked him towards the door.

“Do what?” the little brat asked, blinking innocently as he was shoved through the door and in seconds, found himself shoved onto the platform with his bag in his arms, watching as the little brat held up his wallet and cellphone, letting him know that he was screwed.

“You little brat,” Quinn bit out, moving to go after her when he found his path blocked.

“You’re not getting back on without a ticket,” the conductor said, gesturing for him to get out of the way.

Never taking his eyes off the little brat, Quinn absently nodded as he stepped out of the way, swearing that he would make her pay for this one day.

Present Day

Florida

“They never get enough jelly donuts,” came the sadly mumbled words as the small, plump woman wearing a name tag with “Security” written in bright pink magic marker along with a smiley face stared helplessly down at the box of donuts on her lap as Quinn shifted his focus to the receptionist shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth as she stared down at her iPad before he decided that he’d seen enough.

“I’m here to see Miss Thompson,” Quinn said, taking in the old candy factory that had been turned into the offices for Haven Technologies from the original bricks to the large freight elevator in the corner and all the modern technology that had been tastefully blended in before shifting his focus back to the receptionist that was still staring down at her iPad.

“Miss Thompson doesn’t see anyone,” she said, not bothering to look up as she shoved another handful of popcorn in her mouth.

“She’s expecting me,” Quinn said even as he couldn’t help but wonder why he let Tristan talk him into taking this job.

“A woman that doesn’t see anyone is expecting you?” she asked, sounding bored as she shifted to get more comfortable in her chair.

“Yes,” Quinn said before asking, “Are you going to let her know that I’m here?”

“No, but what I will do is call security,” she said as Quinn glanced over his shoulder at the small plump woman sitting by the door to find her swallowing hard as she whispered, “Please don’t make her call security.”

Sighing heavily, Quinn returned his attention back to the woman determined to ignore him and reached over the counter and grabbed her iPad. Ignoring her outraged gasp, Quinn said, “Call Miss Thompson and tell her that Quinn Jackson is here to see her.”

“My iPad…” the secretary mumbled sadly as she watched Quinn turn it off and place it on the counter.

“Call her,” Quinn said more firmly as he stared her down.

Nodding, she kept her glare locked with his as she said, “Pam.”

“Oh, god…no,” came the weakly murmured response from behind him.

“Take care of him,” the receptionist said smugly as Quinn slowly turned his head to find Pam standing behind him, gesturing weakly towards the double-glass doors as she opened her mouth to say something only to think better of it, close it, swallow, clear her throat, and make a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a sigh.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she finally managed to get out only to immediately follow that up with a mumbled, “Please don’t kill me,” as she looked up at him, her gaze locking on the scar above his eyebrow.

“Is Miss Thompson upstairs?” Quinn asked her with a pointed look at the freight elevator to his right.

“No?” Pam mumbled weakly as she began worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she sent a pleading look to the receptionist, who was now gesturing for Pam to get on with it.

“And if I decide to go have a look to find out for myself?” he asked, watching as she began wringing her hands together.

“Please don’t do that,” she mumbled weakly.

Nodding, Quinn gestured towards the elevator as he said, “Let’s go find her.”

“Let’s not,” Pam said, shaking her head frantically.

“I’m afraid that’s not an option,” Quinn said as he made his way to the elevator and pressed the call button as the two women began frantically whispering behind him.

“I really can’t let you do that,” Pam said, sounding panicked as Quinn pushed the gate open and stepped into the elevator.

“Which is why you’re coming with me,” Quinn said, gesturing for her to join him.

“I’d really rather not have to do that either,” Pam mumbled weakly only to throw a pleading look at the receptionist to find her on the phone and-

“They’re expecting you upstairs,” came the highly annoyed announcement as she gestured for the small woman that looked even more panicked for some reason, to go with him.

“Thank you,” Quinn murmured absently as he took note of the selection of call buttons in the elevator, Lobby, Test Floor, Offices, and Private: Please Don’t Press.

Curious, Quinn pressed the last button to see where it would take him as Pam reluctantly joined him and-

“Wait. What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Finding out why I was hired,” he said as the elevator slowly began its assent, carrying them past the second floor and the sounds of a hundred video games playing before slowly bringing them past the third floor and the sounds of an Indiana Jones movie playing as he took in the open floorplan, the people walking around, lounging on couches, playing table tennis until finally, they arrived at their destination.

“She’s not going to like this,” Pam mumbled as the elevator came to a stop.

“Tell me about Miss Thompson,” Quinn said, shoving the elevator gate open and took in the large apartment loft, noting everything from the clothes thrown over the back of the leather couch that sectioned off the living room area, to the kitchen counters covered in boxes of cereal, cookies, and empty fast-food bags before shifting his attention to the large window overlooking the fire escape that had been left open before he pulled the gate back into place and pressed the button for the third floor.

When he realized that she hadn’t answered him, he looked over to find the small woman standing there with her lips firmly pressed together. “Not going to tell me?”

After a slight hesitation, she shook her head.

Nodding, Quinn absently noted that Miss Thompson’s employees were loyal. That was something at least, he thought as he shoved the gate opened and found himself watching as a meticulously dressed man in his late twenties headed their way with a warm smile. “You must be Mr. Jackson.”

“And you are…” Quinn drawled as he stepped off the elevator and took in the busy floor, noting that no one else seemed to have noticed him yet.

“Sorry. I’m Nathan. I’m the one that called Tristan for help,” the man with the warm smile said as his gaze flickered to Pam, who was still cowering in the elevator.

“I-I don’t know how he got past me,” she mumbled even as she reached over and frantically hit the button for the lobby.

“Luck,” Quinn said dryly as he took in the large floor, his gaze moving from the only closed office on the far side of the room to the open kitchen to his left and found himself looking for the mystery woman that had his best friend calling him at two in the morning and calling in every favor that he owed him. “You want to tell me why I’m here?”

“Tristan didn’t tell you?”

“He didn’t get a chance,” Quinn said, still wondering what was so special about this job that had Tristan breaking his own rules by having him take this job without any information. The only thing that he knew was that Miss Thompson was the CEO and founder of Haven Technologies, wealthy, and needed protection.

It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start.

“We should talk in my-” Nathan began to say only to sigh when his name was called over the intercom. “I’m sorry. I have to take this call. Why don’t you help yourself to a cup of coffee while you wait?” Nathan said, gesturing to the kitchen.

“Of course,” Quinn murmured, deciding that this was a good time to learn everything that he could about Miss Thompson.

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Nathan said with a nod of thanks as he quickly made his way across the large room.

Nodding absently, Quinn walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and-

“Is that coffee?” came the hopeful question that had Quinn looking up only to find himself nodding dumbly as he took in the woman that had completely fucked him over once upon a time to find her licking her lips nervously as she glanced from the cup in his hands to send a nervous glance over her shoulders before focusing back on the coffee with an unholy gleam in her eye.

“Do you want some?” Quinn asked, waiting for the moment when she looked up and realized that he’d finally found her.

“Can, ummm, can I have sugar?” Bailey Smith, the woman that he’d waited fifteen years to make pay for what she did, asked as she shot another nervous glance over her shoulder as he stood there, running his eyes over her, taking in all the changes that the years had brought. She was taller than he remembered, but not by much. Her hair was still the same beautiful caramel color that he remembered, her blue eyes were somehow brighter, she’d filled out in all the right places, and she was still unbelievably fucking adorable.

“Anything else?” he asked as his gaze shifted to the small sugar bowl on the counter and added a spoonful of sugar.

“Two scoops. No, make that three,” she whispered as he added two more scoops while he stood there, thinking of all those things that he’d planned to say to her if he ever saw her again.

Because of her, he’d missed his flight and got his ass chewed out by his recruiter, and once he finally made it to boot camp two days later because he’d stupidly went looking for her to make sure that she was safe, his drill sergeant made it his personal mission to make an example of him. For the next three months, he’d thought about her during all those extra miles that he’d been forced to run with a full pack on in ninety-degree weather, the pushups that he did morning, noon, and night when he wasn’t peeling potatoes, scrubbing toilets, or wishing that he’d never helped the little brat in the first place.

“Thanks!” the woman that still hadn’t looked up at him said with a grateful smile as she took the coffee from him and-

“Oh, god, no…” came the horrified murmur that had Quinn turning his head to see who’d spoken only to frown when Bailey wrapped her hands tightly around the coffee cup and tilted it back, gulping down the hot coffee as fast as she could when a woman was suddenly there, trying to wrestle the cup away from the little brat.

“It’s mine!” Bailey cried, hugging the cup against her chest as she tried to make a run for it, but unfortunately, the other woman was faster.

“What’s going on?” someone asked.

“He gave her caffeine!” the woman currently trying to wrestle the cup of coffee away from Bailey snapped.

“Shit!”

“How much did she drink?” came the question that had Quinn frowning while he watched as several people suddenly flooded the kitchen and grabbed hold of Bailey, who was really fucking determined to finish off the rest of that coffee and took her to the floor where she squirmed, grumbled, and wiggled all while trying to get her hands back on that cup of coffee.

“Enough!” came the answer that elicited more groans while Quinn stood there, shaking his head in wonder as several more people joined and-

“Ow! She bit me!”

-had him deciding that he’d had enough as he reached down and pulled the little brat free, deciding that it was time that they finally had that talk.

©Rerum Carta Industries, Inc. 2022. All Rights Reserved.

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