Give Me Strength

  I blinked.

  “Quinn!”

  With effort, I turned my head towards the sound and blinked again.

  “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

  “Travis,” I mumbled.

  “No. It’s Seth,” he panted as strong hands gripped me and pulled me from the crumpled car.

  “Where’s Travis?” I moaned.

  My body was flung up and over a shoulder, and my stomach rolled as the jostling flared up all kinds of pain.

  “Who’s Travis?”

  Did he just ask me who Travis was?

  My eyes closed and a chuckle came from deep within me.

  Travis was light and safety, beauty and passion, laughter and love…and hope.

  Travis was everything.

  “Why are you carrying me?” I mumbled. “You got shot. I should be carrying you.”

  “I’m fine,” Seth panted as we staggered through the dark forest.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The driver was killed in the crash, Quinn, but Luka is behind us. We’ve got to keep moving.”

  “Oh God,” I moaned. “Why can’t this day end?”

  It was his turn to chuckle, but it came out more like a hiss. “Quinn?”

  “Hmm?”

  “If I knew—”

  “Don’t.” Tears threatened again. “I have a family now, and I’m trying to stop living in the past and move on…but…dammit Seth, I can’t have this conversation while I’m hanging over your shoulder.”

  “You can’t walk,” he breathed out, pain etched in his voice as his feet crunched over dried leaves, twigs and rocky ground.

  “I can’t?”

  “You’ve got a deep gash in your leg, Quinn. You can’t feel it?”

  My brow furrowed. “No. It feels kinda numb.” I licked my dry lips and swallowed. “Is it… bad?”

  “Not at all. You’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t sound like it was fine. His voice shook, but he had been shot. And in a car accident.

  “Don’t move!” I heard Luka yell.

  “Fuck,” Seth cursed softly and halted.

  “Turn around.”

  Seth turned, softly lowering me to the ground and that leg that felt so numb, didn’t feel so numb anymore. I screamed as pain ricocheted upwards through my body and I crumpled to the ground.

  Seth shifted in front of me.

  “All this time, Agent McKinnon, you stood with me, worked by my side. Now you have blood on your hands.” He looked up as a chopper came over, circling slowly above us, blinding lights spearing the ground over and over. “But you know I can’t allow you to live. That would send the wrong message. It’s just a shame you’ll die with all those black marks on your soul, and knowing the daughter that was never yours will die along with you.”

  A shot rang out.

  My breath stuttered in fear, but Seth didn’t jerk back, or fall down. That honour belonged to Luka, and he looked surprised before he didn’t look like anything at all.

  “Quinn!” Seth crouched and picked me up, cradling me in his arms and a fresh round of sweat broke his brow from the effort. “What a fuck of a day.”

  “Put her down or I shoot.”

  My mouth fell open. Behind where Luka lay stood Travis, gun in hand, pointed directly at Seth. Slightly dazed, I took a moment to admire him. His green eyes were hard and locked on Seth, his fitted white shirt dirty and torn, his legs braced as though he was prepared to take down King Kong and win, and in that moment I would’ve believed he could.

  “Travis,” I whispered.

  “This is the man who’s your everything?” Seth whispered softly to me.

  My heart swelled because not only was he my everything, I was his too and never had I felt more whole. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Ignoring my question, Seth looked down at me. “Travis Valentine? Really?”

  I raised a brow. “You know him?”

  “Every single Government agency and police force in Sydney, hell, in Australia, has heard of the Valentines. Fucking cowboys,” he mumbled.

  “Put her down,” Travis yelled, inching forward, gun steady, every movement and word corroborating Seth’s opinion without him even realising it.

  “I can’t,” Seth returned. “She’s hurt. She can’t walk.”

  Travis flicked his eyes from Seth to me. “Quinn?” he called softly.

  “I’m okay. Just a scratch on my leg.” I reassured him. I waved a hand towards Seth. “You can put the gun away. This is Seth. Agent McKinnon,” I added.

  “You’re the nark?” Travis said to Seth.

  “That would be me,” he replied.

  Travis wasn’t convinced. “Put her down gently and back way.”

  Without hesitation, Seth knelt, gently sat me down and backed away, hissing as each movement caused him pain.

  Travis moved forward, lowering himself to his knees before me, his eyes running the length of me. They fell on the makeshift bandage around my thigh, and he checked it carefully. Satisfied the pressure was tight enough on the wound, his eyes found mine and they were wet with tears of relief. “Oh, Quinn, baby.”

  He wrapped the upper half of my body in his arms and tucking his head in my neck, breathed deeply.

  “Travis,” I murmured, waves of emotion rolling through me.

  His body started shaking and I wound my arms around his neck and held on.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

  My fingers gently caressed the back of his neck. “That’s okay. I took matters into my own hands.”

  He jerked back and looked at me. “More chair throwing?”

  I bit down on my lip. “As a matter of fact…”

  Travis groaned.

  “She saved us. Quinn got herself loose in the car and jerked it off the road. If she hadn’t done that, we would’ve been dead by now. Luka was heading to his private airstrip. We were just bargaining chips until he got there and got rid of us.” Seth knelt on the other side of me. “Her leg’s pretty bad—”

  “You said it wasn’t,” I accused just as Travis cocked back a fist and slammed it in Seth’s face. Seth crashed backwards into the ground from the force, and it didn’t look like he’d be getting up again anytime soon. “I told you to stay back. Until I can verify who you are, I don’t trust you,” he raged.

  “Oh my God,” I moaned, staring in disbelief at the prone Seth. “Travis, I...uh...know who he is.”

  He frowned at me as he tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans and pulled out his phone.

  “Don’t believe anything he says, Quinn.”

  “Oh I think I believe what he’s told me.”

  Travis put the phone to his ear. “And what did he tell you?”

  “He didn’t even need to tell me. Look at him. He’s my father.” I stared at Travis. His eyes held mine as I heard his phone dialling. “You just punched my father. In the face.”

  Travis looked from the prone Seth to me and back again. His mouth fell open.

  The call connected. “Hello? Travis?” came the tinny voice of Casey.

  “And then I said, ‘No one messes with the Valentines. Ever’ before I reached forward and grabbed the steering wheel,” I told Lucy, Mac, and Evie from my hospital bed where I lay propped against mounds of pillows, munching on a pile of hot chips, and slurping noisily on my large strawberry shake.

  Well I didn’t really say that, but I would have if I’d thought of it. I was just a little bit preoccupied at the time trying to save lives. I recounted the entire story for them, starting from the moment I woke, not missing out a single thing, from my decision at the beach not to run to David getting shot to Seth pulling me from the wrecked car to me telling him Travis was my everything—which evoked sighs—to the way Travis looked as he stood there, gun pointed at Seth. Lucy’s gleam of happiness was bright enough to take out an eye.

  “… and then I stared at Travis in utter shock,” I continued, “and said ‘That’s my father. You just
punched my father. In the face.’”

  Shrieks of laughter broke out, and Mac started gasping for breath. “Oh my God,” she wheezed. “What an asshead! That’s brilliant. I can live on that for years.”

  The door to my hospital room burst open, and Travis strode through, Casey hot on his heels. His frown was fierce and he made sure it took in all of us.

  The chuckles died off.

  A false cough rang out.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” he thundered. “Quinn...” he pointed at me, and I bit the insides of my cheeks to hold back the laughter “...is supposed to be resting, and you’re all having a bloody party.”

  Mac made a noise that sounded like the high-pitched whine of a dog, forcing everyone to turn and look at her. Her face was a tad red, her eyes watering a little.

  “You punched Quinn’s father,” she choked out, unable to help herself. “In the face.”

  Casey cleared his throat.

  Evie choked on a chip.

  I giggled.

  Instead of the expected irritable retort, Travis swung his eyes to me and the anger in them softened. He chuckled. “Yeah. I did.”

  Mac’s mouth fell open.

  “Close your mouth, Mac.”

  She closed her mouth.

  “Everyone out,” he ordered, his eyes never leaving mine, just like they never left mine in the ambulance ride to the hospital last night, and when they put fifteen stitches in my upper thigh and he squeezed my hand hard as he sat with me. Even as I lay in my hospital bed in the dead of night, freshly showered, exhausted and drifting off, his eyes held mine until lost in them, I fell asleep.

  There were grumbles and rustles of paper as Evie gathered up the last of the chips. Kisses were pressed on my cheek, “be back later’s” were called out, and then it was just Travis and me.

  He leaned in, touching his lips to mine.

  It wasn’t enough. I pressed harder, tasting his lips with my tongue. He groaned, opening his mouth, and took over the kiss.

  Pulling back, he said, “You taste like strawberries,” and sat on the edge of my bed.

  Patting at my hair with one hand, I held up my shake in reply with the other. He stole it from my hand and wrapping his lips around the straw, took a sip. I watched breathlessly as he swallowed and eyes crinkling, said, “You know how much I love strawberry ice cream.”

  I shivered, remembering him tasting it from my mouth after our date. “Me too.”

  “So …” He grinned. “I looked like I could take on King Kong and win?”

  “You were eavesdropping,” I accused and whacked his chest with the back of my hand. “How much did you hear?”

  “Casey and I heard it all.” He chuckled but it died off. “I’m your everything.”

  I flushed wildly and picked at the hem of my blanket.

  Travis tucked his thumb and forefinger under my chin until I couldn’t avoid looking at him any longer.

  “You are,” I agreed softly. “You gave me everything that helped me find myself. Your support gave me confidence, your determination made me fight, and your strength helped me find my own.” He wiped softly at a tear that spilled over and streaked down my cheek. “I love you so much, Travis.”

  His eyes filled and he blinked. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  Spreading out on the bed next to me, his feet hanging off the edge at an angle, he pulled me into a tight embrace, and I drifted off in his arms.

  Travis shifting and the clearing of a throat woke me from my nap. Travis sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, wiping at tired eyes as my own found Seth standing by the door. His brow and jaw were swollen and bruised, his blond hair mussed, his shoulder wrapped up in a sling. He was pale and sweaty and looked in no condition to be out of his own hospital bed and trekking around the hallways.

  “Seth,” I murmured.

  He hesitated, not knowing what the appropriate greeting was for a long lost daughter. Unfortunately, I was in the same boat.

  Travis solved the problem. “Agent McKinnon.” He nodded at the visitor chair. “Why don’t you take a seat before you fall down.”

  Seth glared, no doubt remembering Travis throwing that now infamous punch. Travis returned the glare, no doubt remembering my recount to him of yesterday and blaming Seth for getting me caught up in everything.

  I sighed because we weren’t off to a good start.

  “Travis, why don’t you go grab a coffee?”

  He folded his arms. “I’m good.”

  I smiled at him meaningfully.

  “I think she was politely asking you to leave,” Seth offered as he dragged the chair closer by the bed and seated himself carefully.

  “I know that, but having dealt with Quinn’s family in the past, I’m not inclined to ever leave her alone with any of them again.”

  By the way he emphasised family, I knew he considered it a loose term just as I did. The single word didn’t encompass much except a mother who wasn’t worth knowing and a father I didn’t know at all. At twenty-two, I wasn’t sure I was in need of a father anymore. Frankly I didn’t know what on earth to do with one now that he was here, but maybe it was something we could work out together.

  “Travis.” I reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’d really love a coffee.”

  He returned the squeeze and looked into my eyes. I needed to talk to Seth, and I needed the space to process whatever came of it. I hoped he could see that in my eyes and understand.

  Travis nodded and with a quick kiss, he was gone.

  Over the next hour, I learned I had more family than I knew what to do with. Seth was the youngest of three. I had two uncles, grandparents, and cousins scattered over the countryside. It made me ache, my chest burning at knowing everything I’d ever prayed for had been right at my fingertips all along, and my mother had known. She’d known and never bothered to tell me.

  Was it because Seth broke her heart like he believed? A silent “fuck you” to Seth that he was never supposed to hear?

  “I hate her,” I whispered to him after I explained my upbringing, saving most of the details for another day. “And I hate that I hate her. I thought I didn’t feel anything for her but this…this burns,” I whispered, my voice thick with hurt.

  Seth stood up and folded me awkwardly in his free arm. The kindness had me slumping into his shoulder.

  A loud curse came from the doorway, and I pulled away as Travis strode forward and got in Seth’s face.

  “What did you say to her?”

  I pulled away, suddenly exhausted. “I have a family.”

  Travis frowned at me, sitting a coffee on my tray table and taking hold of my hand. “Of course you do. Us.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Quinn,” Seth cut in, and with a nod to Travis, he left my room.

  I scooted over in my bed a little to allow room for Travis. He sat down, handed me the coffee, and I told him everything Seth told me.

  ***

  “You know,” I said, and paused, looking up at Travis from beneath my lashes where we lay in my bed. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, making me squint a little as I rolled to my side and propped my head in my hand. “I think you should hire me at Jamieson and Valentine Consulting. I’d make a really good employee.”

  “Yeah?” Travis scratched lazily at his neck and yawned as I trailed my fingers up the ridges along his naked chest. He appeared to give it serious thought. “Well you could fetch me coffee I suppose, pick up my dry cleaning, do all my paperwork. I could even bend you over my desk whenever I wanted.” His lips twitched. “When can you start?”

  My eyes flashed in annoyance, but I quietly smothered it. Instead, I changed direction, trailing my fingers downwards, and this time when I looked up at him from beneath my lashes, I bit down on my lip. He sucked in a breath and I hid my smirk. “Well I was kinda thinking that—”

  “That what? You helped dismantle an entire drug and human trafficking cartel and now that you’re on a roll and have
a taste for adrenaline, you want more?”

  “Well life with you and the badass brigade is never going to be dull, is it? Maybe Mac was right and I need to learn how to shoot.”

  “Newsflash, sweetheart. You’re the ones that are causing the mayhem and leaving a trail of destruction behind you.”

  A loud bang on the door interrupted our chat.

  “Quinn!” Mac yelled through the door. “Are you ready to go yet?”

  The door flew open before I could reply, and I whipped the sheet up to cover my naked chest.

  “Seen it before,” she sing-songed as she sailed into my wardrobe.

  “Jesus Christ, Mac, haven’t you heard of fucking privacy,” Travis growled.

  “Sorry!” she yelled, her voice muffled as rummaging and banging noises came from deep within. “Ah ha!” She stalked out, waving a bag around. “I knew you had my lemon tote.” Pausing at the end of the bed, she said, “What the hell are you doing anyway? Hang on…let me rephrase that. Mum is downstairs. Did you forget we were going shopping today?”

  “No,” I lied.

  I did forget. When I was with Travis, he made me forget my name, forget to breathe, and forget I had seen people die. He made me forget everything. But Travis couldn’t be there all the time. When he wasn’t, my friends rallied, but it was high time the cotton wool that had cocooned me for two weeks was unwrapped so I could move on with the rest of my life.

  That was supposed to start today, with shopping, because my stitches were out, my crutches were gone, and Mac had told me the feel good endorphins from spending lots of money was the first step on my road to recovery. I was told it would be epic. Evie and Tim were coming, Lucy was meeting us there, and Evie had Jared book us a late champagne and seafood lunch at Mr. Chow’s. Unfortunately, it couldn’t drag late into the night because tonight was my first night back at work—Jamieson would be playing at the White Demon.

  “You’re lying,” Mac announced.

  “No I’m not,” I lied, shifting when Travis sat up a little and reached for his phone from my bedside table.

  “Yes you are,” she returned. “You have a tell.”

  Travis chuckled as he unlocked his phone and began scrolling through his emails.