Cold Shadow (Cold Country #2)(56)

"None."

They both turned to the door to find Quinn standing there, his eyes rimmed red. "Just you and him. Him and you. Drew and Nathan. Nathan and Drew. Now that he's told you all my secrets, yeah, I fucked him. Hard and nasty. Just like I did in the hospital that night. Just like you did two nights ago. Guess I shouldn't have changed my mind, huh? I'd be in Nashville by now."

Quinn turned to go. His shoulders slumped.

"Get back here, you little bitch," Nathan growled at him. "I'm not finished talking to you."

"And that's another thing, stop fucking growling at me. I get so damned sick of your surliness. Talk to me? Ha. That's a laugh. You don't talk to me, you keep everything bottled up and I'm constantly on fucking eggshells with you. I'm scared to death that I'll do something or say something and you'll leave me." Quinn swung around in the doorway, his blue eyes filled with anger and despair. "I'm not your goddamned punching bag, Nathan."

"You were happy to be my punching bag that day in the Keys." Nathan didn't growl or shout, he spoke almost softly, his eyes narrowed until Drew couldn't see the color of his irises. "That's why you want to go back so damned badly. Not because we were alone down there, but because I damn near killed you and you got off on it."

There was no reply. Quinn closed his eyes and raked his hair back from his face. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days, the bristle on his chin so blond it reflected light as he swallowed. "It's been more than two years since the Keys." He looked at the floor, his shoulders stiff. "I need more than what we have. I need-"

Nathan didn't wait for Quinn to say what he needed. He lunged across the room, the murder that had been in his eyes only a couple of minutes before blazed into something that scared the shit out of Drew.



       
         
       
        

"Nathan, wait, don't-" Drew shouted, but Nathan had Quinn by the throat, his body pressed up against the wall.

"Stay the fuck out of this, Drew." It wasn't Nathan that spoke, but Quinn. The same blazing anger burned in his eyes and Drew backed off, holding his hands up in surrender.

"So what do you want from me? To beat the living hell out of you before we fuck? Is that what you're missing from the good old days when you whored your way across Texas?" Nathan shoved his knee between Quinn's legs as if he were about to pat down a perp except he pressed his knee squarely into Quinn's crotch. Quinn's eyes became blue blazes as he moaned.

"Yes," Quinn said without arguing about the whore comment.

Nathan leaned his head against Quinn's shoulder, his shoulders sagging. "I can't, Quinn, I can't hurt anyone …  I won't hurt you. Not on purpose. Not without cause. If that's what it takes to keep you … maybe you should go back to Nashville."

Nathan stepped back and with a turn, he met Drew's gaze. Drew felt the punch of Nathan's fear, his resignation to the loss of his love following rapidly before he controlled his emotions. His silver eyes became stone cold as Drew watched.

Drew sat heavily on the edge of their bed while Quinn stayed pressed to the wall. Quinn hung his head but stayed quiet. Drew felt nothing from either of them. No anger, no lust, no … anything.

"I should go," Drew said as Nathan opened the closet he'd slammed earlier. He should have stayed out if it. He should never have come back here.

"Too late for that, don't you think, Walker?" Nathan said, reaching for the box on the shelf. Drew gasped in surprise as Nathan opened his gun safe.

"Nathan, okay, I don't know what you're going to do, but … okay, don't … " Drew was on his feet moving to intercept the gun as Nathan turned around, silver glinted in his hand, confusion in his eyes.

Drew's knees damned near gave out as Nathan tossed his service cuffs to him. "I'm not into gun play, Walker," Nathan said as he stripped his shirt off and threw it on the pile of clothes on the floor. His pants followed. He wasn't wearing a damned thing underneath but his tattoos. "If he wants to be treated as meat, then cuff his ass to the bed."

"Wait a damned second," Quinn said, his voice quivering in a way Drew had never expected to hear from him. Almost as if Quinn was afraid. Drew's fucking dick betrayed him. Quinn Anders looked almost fragile in his confusion. Drew took the cuffs and moved faster than he'd ever moved before. He had Quinn by the hair before the fear left his eyes. He wrenched the man's arm behind his back with practiced ease. He did this all the damned time to perps. Never sexually. And sure as hell not with a naked, very erect, surly man watching his every move. "Fuck you, Walker," Quinn spewed the words along with a mouthful of spit, but he didn't fight. Drew expected him to put up at least a token bit of resistance.