I abandon the slow teasing for deep powerful drags with my tongue, coaxing her higher and higher as I lick her faster and wildly. She grabs at my hair, the sounds of her moans and gasps filling the cabin so much so that I actually start to wonder if the pilots will actually hear us.
Something actually strikes me then. There's something that tugs at the instincts carved deep into my being from years of fighting to survive. From the Marines and war, and even from working with Blackriver. After years of conflict - years of sleeping with a weapon under your pillow and years of listening for that one twig snap or hint of a scent on the wind that can mean death around the corner, some things just strike you funny.
Like, for instance, the fact that my normally chatty pilots have been entirely silent since we got on the plane. Or the fact that we're slowly descending barely an hour into the trip.
Yeah, something isn't right, that much I can tell even if I don't know what it is. Quinn looks down at me shyly, her cheeks red and her eyes wide as she starts to open her mouth, probably to ask me why the hell I've stopped.
"Put some pants on," I whisper darkly, standing and pricking my ears to try and figure out what's tugging on my instincts.
"Logan?" Quinn moves close to me, pulling her shorts back up her legs and looking towards the front of the cabin as she slips my shirt on. "What's going on?"
I shake my head, alert and on edge. "Something's not-"
"Attention passengers!"
Every muscle in my body tightens and my pulse instantly jumps into fight mode as I narrow my eyes at the closed cockpit door. I know the voice, because I'd recognize that accent anywhere in the world. Except recognition isn't a good thing when I hear Javier Toro's voice coming out of the intercom speakers on my private jet while I'm alone here with Quinn.
I can feel her hands on my biceps as she grabs me tightly. "Logan-"
Her whispered voice is strained and tinged with fear and I instinctively find myself moving in front of her, between her and the door. There's a million fucking thoughts blasting through my head, and every synapse and every muscle in my body is cocked and spring-loaded and ready to explode into action. The first thing I can think of is that I'm not going to let a Goddamn thing happen to this girl.
The intercom crackles to life again. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we'll be making an unscheduled stop on our way back to New York to, uh, to settle some debts." Javier's voice chuckles over the speakers, the sound of it sharp and grating. "You've been a bad, bad boy, Logan," Javier tut-tuts me, and suddenly the door to the cockpit opens and he's standing there, leveling a gun at me. Quinn gasps behind me, her hands clutching at my arms and back as she flinches at the sight of the gun. I'm flashing my teeth at Javier, practically snarling like an animal in full-on protective mode as he grins wickedly at me.
"We had a deal, Logan." He says evenly, shaking his head dramatically, as if he's disappointed in me or something. "You fight how and when I tell you too, and all your dirty little secrets stay right here." He taps on his head as he grins at me like a shark.
"Something came up," I growl out.
Javier chuckles. "Sorry marica, but fucking little rich girls on a Caribbean island doesn't really count." He shrugs and tsk-tsks me again. "A deal is a deal, Irish, and you fucked up."
"Then let's renegotiate." I snarl out, feeling every muscle in my body screaming as I stand there tense as a coiled spring ready to do something the second he tries to get close to Quinn.
"Ni de coña!" Javier laughs. "No way, Papi!" He shouts something, and suddenly the door to galley in the back of the jet bangs open and two of his guys step out.
Sparks and fire flash through my head as I try and calculate my odds of reacting and not getting one of us shot here before I admit to myself that they're pretty shit odds.
The men start to advance on us, holding rope, and Quinn starts to scream as she grabs for me. My fists are clenched into white-knuckle fury, and I get one step towards the two new guys before I feel the cold, heavy metal of a gun barrel on the back of my head and freeze.
"You fucked up, Irish." Javier's voice is low behind me as he cocks the pistol in his hand. The men advance on us, and Quinn is still screaming and clutching at my arm as Javier leans close to my ear, his voice a dark whisper. "You made a big mistake coming here, Logan, and now I gotta show you just how big a mistake it was."
The men pull black bags out, their faces dark and neutral as they step towards us.
Protect them.
One fucking simple request from the man who gave me my second shot at life. One job; protect his daughters, and here I am utterly failing at that.
I'm sorry. So fucking sorry.
I lunge forward, and I feel the sharp crack of something hitting the back of my head before I start to fall to the ground. Quinn's screaming as they grab her and start to pull the bag over her head, and it's the last sound I hear before everything goes black.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Quinn
"You know, I gotta say, you look good, marica! I mean you might've fucked up pretty bad, but at least you got yourself a tan down there."
My mouth tastes like cotton as I slowly open my eyes to blackness, and at first I'm terrified that I'm blind or something until I remember the bag. Slowly, I can see light trickling through the course fabric, and I'm trying to peer through it when the sudden presence of Javier's voice right next to my ear makes me gasp and flinch away from the sound.
"Oooh! Looks like your girlfriend woke up, Irish!" I gasp as the bag is quickly yanked from my head, and I'm blinking my eyes at the sudden light, however dim. My breath catches in my throat as I slowly take everything in around me.
The first thing I see is Logan, his battered-looking face intently and wildly looking at me from across the room from the chair he's bound to. My arms feel sore, though I quickly realize I'm not tied up like he is. Like that means anything with Javier and two large men with guns in the room with us.
"Get the fuck away from her." He snarls, his biceps bulging as he grits his teeth and strains against his bonds.
"Oh, from her?" Javier grins and runs the back of his hand sickeningly across my cheek. "I'm not so sure, Logan! I'm just not so sure!" He nods his head as if he's thinking some sort of deep thought, and he turns on his heel and walks slowly towards Logan. "Orders, Marine. Orders. You see there's a chain of command for a reason, cabrón, but I guess you missed that day back in Marine school." He reaches out and pats Logan on the cheek, who snarls and whips his head away as Javier chuckles. "So, I'm thinking, maybe you need to learn a solid lesson about doing what you're fucking told to do, Marine. A big lesson." He turns and winks at me, giving me an evil smile that makes my skin crawl.
Logan strains violently at his ropes. "You leave her the fuck alone!" He snarls at Javier. "You wanna hurt someone? Hurt me, fucker."
Javier about doubles over laughing. "Oh, please. Come on, Logan! What do you think I'm gonna do, hit you?" He turns to his goons and shakes his head while he shrugs dramatically. "Nah, no way Papi. You're the type of fucked-up weirdo that enjoys that shit too much."
"So what do you want."
"What do I want, Logan?" Javier tsks and shakes his head. "We had a deal, remember? I just want you to keep up your end of it."
"Blackmail isn't a deal."
Javier shrugs. "Well, it's not one you want, but it's still a deal." He turns to look at me again. "I bet she still doesn't know, does she? About Africa?" I stare at him defiantly, but I can see that wicked grin on his face curling into something even more sinister. "No? Oohhh, then I bet she also doesn't know about Afghanistan either, does she." He smirks at me. "I bet you didn't know Captain save-the-world over here is wanted by the U.S. Government for desertion of duties and colluding with the enemy, did you?"
A chill runs up my spine, and even though I try and stop them, my eyes instantly flick to Logan. Javier catches the move and chuckles. "Uh-oh! I think I just blew up your spot here, marica. You've got some explaining to do now!"
"Quinn-"
Logan's chest is rising and falling heavily with his breaths, and he slowly shakes his head at me. "It's not-"
"Oh, come on, Logan!" Javier hoots. "You gonna be that clichéd about it? ‘Oh, it's not what you think, baby'," he pantomimes to me before rolling his eyes. "Yeah, chica, it's everything you think it looks like. Soldier boy over here skipped out of the Marines in Afghanistan. Fucked right off in the middle of battle like some kinda chicken-shit and just ditched it like a bad date."
Logan's eyes are locked on mine, and he's slowly shaking his head as his face grows paler and tenser. He looks more hurt and more terrified in that moment than anything I've ever seen from him before. Even more-so than anything I've ever seen from him after a fight. My heart breaks a little bit knowing I can't just walk over there and hold him and tell him it's okay right now.
"I met up with him and his little pals working for Blackriver in Africa," He winks at me. "Mercenary outfit, in case you didn't kn-"
"Don't listen to him, Quinn." Logan says through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving my face. "Don't listen to a word he-"