Page 6 of Whatever It Takes

My eyes glancedover the reports that I should have been focusing on. My brain absorbed almost nothing. Instead, I switched my iPad sideways on my lap while I scrolled through photo after photo of Charlotte and her daughter Emery.

Even though it wasn’t rational, I resented everything about that little girl, because she was supposed to mine, not Grant’s.

It was clear from the very first day that he moved in across the hall from us that he wanted her bad. I used to catch him staring at her and stopping by, asking to borrow stupid shit that he didn’t really need. As annoying as he was, I never considered him a threat. Charlotte and my relationship was as solid as it could be for two young kids trying to figure things out.

It seemed like just yesterday when she and I made the decision to move in together. We rushed right out to put a deposit down on that little one-bedroom apartment that was barely big enough for one of us, let alone two. It didn’t matter though, because it was ours, and we were happy.

Asking her to marry me less than a week after I graduated seemed like a good idea at the time. I was young and in love and thought I had the world at my fingertips. It took me a while to realize how wrong I was. Not about her, but about my ability to provide for her. I moved out to the West Coast to chase a dream that I thought would secure our future. In the end, it tore us apart.

I set the iPad down on the table and sipped my coffee. I should stay away and respect her wishes. She obviously didn’t want my help. But I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t get everything off my chest. Not only that, but I needed to make sure she was safe. Even after years of separation, protecting Charlotte was all I knew. It was instinctive.

I snatched my keys off the counter and started walking toward the elevator.

Bree’s name lit up my screen just as I stepped inside. “Hey.” I smiled while pushing the button for the parking garage.

Bree was a local news reporter in Washington DC. We met when she interviewed me about a local drug dealer I had arrested with ties to some influential Washington politicians. We had an instant connection and have been dating for almost nine months.

“I’m glad I caught you. I’m at Crate and Barrel and wanted to pick up a few things to bring with me to the apartment next weekend.”

I slid my eyes shut and tried to suppress my desire to groan out loud. I should have been excited to see my girlfriend after three weeks, but I had this nagging feeling that wasn’t sitting right with me.

“Bree, I thought I told you not to spend any more money on me?”

She was always buying stuff for my apartment. While she claimed her reasons were that my place was too boring and needed a little character, my gut told me she was starting to nest like some bird that was ready to take over the place.

“Relax, Quinn. It’s just a couple of things. Besides, I’m going to need a better sauté pan and some nice dishes if I’m going to be cooking you breakfast next Saturday morning.”

My top lip reflexively curled into a smile as I stepped off the elevator. “Just don’t go crazy and keep your receipts.”

I pictured her rolling her eyes, and I pressed the unlock button on my key fob. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try.” She sighed. “I can’t wait to see you.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling guilty as hell. Here I was talking to my sweet girlfriend while I was on my way to visit my ex. “You too,” I muttered, “I’ll call you later. Have a good day.”

I hung up the phone and stepped inside my truck. Bree was a great girl and things just started to get serious, but it always seemed like her feelings were stronger than mine. I did care about her, but seeing Charlotte yesterday had sent doubts trickling inside my head.

I pushed the start button on my truck and backed out of my parking spot, hoping I wasn’t making a huge mistake. I reminded myself on the drive to her house that I had a lot to lose, but when Marco informed me about the package left on her porch, I knew I had to jump in and help. There was no way I could sit back knowing she could be in potential danger.

I pushed my Ray-Bans on top of my head and rang her doorbell. I took a step back, feeling the tension build in my shoulders. I grew more nervous as her footsteps got closer. We really needed to have a conversation about her idiot of a husband and the company he had been keeping.

The door swung open, and I looked down at the little girl with long brown hair and green eyes. She tilted her head to the side with a crooked smile and a missing front tooth. “Hi, Quinn.”

I never felt more out of my comfort zone than I did right then. I liked kids, sure, but this little girl wasn’t just any kid.

“Emery!” Charlotte’s stern voice sounded behind her. “How many times do I have to tell you not to answer the door without knowing who it is?”

“It’s fine, Mom. I know who Quinn is. He was here the other day,” she said, brushing her messy bed hair over her shoulder.

Charlotte stepped in front of her and stared me down. She didn’t look very happy to see me. “It’s Mr. Walker to you.”

“Quinn is fine,” I said, giving them both a friendly wave.

“No. It’s not.” She narrowed her frosty eyes and reprimanded me right in front of her little girl. “She is six years old and has been taught to greet adults using their last names.”

Okay then.

“May I come in?”

She peered around my shoulder. “Where is Detective Rubin?”

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