Page 15 of Relentless Knight

“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill them all,” he snarls.

Killian’s as close to losing it as he’s ever come because it’s his kid sister. And Quinn’s normally the one who handles nursing questions. I don’t know what to do for her, and right now, fighting won’t solve anything. She needs a doctor, andI’m grateful to Natasha for having come up with such a quick solution.

In the meantime, I turn and lean over Quinn, gently parting her silken blond hair so I can find where the blood is coming from. She has a good-sized lump on her head with a small laceration. But it’s not too deep, and based on the injuries I’ve sustained in the past and Quinn’s assessment of them, I think she might get away with not having stitches.

It feels like it takes the doctor hours to arrive, though he rings the doorbell less than forty-five minutes after Natasha makes the call, and she leads him to Quinn’s bedroom where Killian and I stand watch over her.

With the doctor here, I finally step back to give him space to work. He’s methodical and gentle, checking each of her welts, bruises, and abrasions before turning his attention to the lump on her head. He opens her eyelids and flashes a penlight to check their reaction. After cleaning each of her cuts and closing the one on her scalp with butterfly tape, he finally removes his rubber medical gloves with a snap, bringing his exam to a close.

“She’ll be okay,” he says gently. “For all her bumps and bruises, I don’t think she’ll have any lasting damage. Though, I want you to call me right away if she wakes in considerable pain. Otherwise, I think she just needs rest. She does have a minor concussion and will need to take it easy for a few days. You can give her acetaminophen for the pain, but avoid ibuprofen or any painkillers that would increase her risk of bleeding.”

“Thank you, Dr. Miller,” Natasha says, following him toward the door.

“For you, my girl, anything.” He gives her a soft smile, then a respectful nod to me and Killian before departing.

Only then can I release the breath it feels like I’ve been holding since we got the call from the front-gate guard earlier this evening. Killian and I share a look that expresses both thesame sense of relief to know Quinn will be okay and the grim determination to punish those who hurt her.

Then we settle in to wait, occupying her desk chair and the one before her vanity as we stay to watch over her. I don’t think either of us is willing to leave her side until she wakes. I want to hear what happened, who took her—if she recognized any of them—and whatever lead we might get from her first-hand account.

But more than that, I still desperately need to hear from her own lips that she’s alright.

Until then, the knot in my stomach will remain.

We sit in almost complete silence, allowing her to rest. And as the hours slowly tick by, I feel the weight of sleep nagging at the back of my mind. But I refuse to turn in until we’ve had a chance to speak with Quinn. And I definitely don’t want her to wake up all alone.

She’s been through enough trauma for one day.

It’s well past midnight when a pained groan issues from the bed, and I sit up, suddenly alert as Quinn stirs. Her head turns, her face pinching in an expression of discomfort.

Then she sits up so suddenly, it makes me jolt.

She doesn’t pause to take in her surroundings. I don’t think she even sees me or Killian in the room before she’s on her feet, bolting toward the door as if on pure instinct. And she’s past her brother before he has a chance to catch her.

As I’m closer to the door, I stand quickly and wrap an arm around her waist before she can get too far. “Easy, Quinn. I’ve got you,” I murmur, pulling her close to my chest.

And she shudders violently as the fight leaves her in an instant. Burying her face in my shoulder, Quinn sobs. Enfolding her in my arms, I hold her fiercely, and glance up to share a stunned look with Killian.

Quinn’s shaking so hard, it’s making my teeth rattle, and her quivering body nearly undoes me. I’ve never seen her fall apart like this.

“Oh my God, I was so scared,” she breathes between sobs.

Fresh anger rips through me, turning my vision red. I’m more furious than I’ve ever been in my life.

I’ll kill every last one of the Italians for laying a hand on Quinn.

8

QUINN

“Please, just let me go,” I plead, fighting back tears as I twist my wrists, trying to wiggle loose from my bindings.

“You hear that, Vinny? The Irish princess thinks it’s time to let her go home,” my kidnapper mocks, laughing with his partner as they loom over me, violent mirth in their eyes.

“My brother will find me,” I warn. “It’s better if you let me go now. If he knows you took me, he’ll kill you. And I promise, it won’t be quick and pain?—”

The hand comes out of nowhere, striking my cheek with such force that it snaps my head sideways, and I see stars. And though I’m trying to put on a brave face—I’m trying to be strong—I can’t help the fear that grips my chest like a vise.

I don’t know where I am aside from that it looks like an abandoned warehouse of some sort. And while, by now, I’ve figured out that my captors are most definitely Italians who must be working for Don Lucian, I don’t know what they intend to do with me.

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