Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3) Page 2

  Right now, Reese just wanted five minutes with Quinn, preferably alone. Five minutes was usually all it took before they found something they could argue about—in spades.

  The woman hated his profession. But in spite of that, she had a feisty side which for some reason he found appealing. Her sarcastic wit aside, though, it was more than likely her deep, chocolate brown eyes that drew him in. Or the fact that he wouldn’t mind getting his hands in her hair, maybe slip that band from around her ponytail and let it drape down free.

  And if he kept thinking like that he’d need a cold shower.

  But before he laid eyes on Quinn, it became clear Cade’s rant was beginning to take on an incoherent, crazy rambling. Knowing Quinn was somewhere around the ER, knowing what Cade was capable of doing, Reese followed the man’s voice as it filled the air with a string of nasty threats.

  At that point, Reese even considered the fact that Cade might have crossed the line entirely and brought a weapon with him into the hospital. He let his imagination run wild with that possibility, deciding Cade could easily be holding everyone hostage. The man was that irrational.

  By the time Reese took in the scene, two uniformed cops were restraining a still-ranting Cade Boyd. But then he noted the look of sheer terror on Quinn’s face as each cop held Cade back from going after her. It seemed they were trying to get him out into the hallway without much success.

  Even Reese could tell the exotic-looking Quinn tried for a stoic expression but failed miserably. And the Quinn Tyler he had known over the past two months rarely failed at anything.

  To Reese, her usual toffee skin looked a little on the pale side probably because Cade kept resisting the officers and trying to break away. But not before he let go another string of obscenities aimed at her.

  “Goddamn it, I’m coming for you, Quinn. You and your fucking friends think you can get away with this but…I’ll be there when you least expect it. I know people,” he shouted as the cops fought to remove him from the area. “Let go of me, you bastards. Don’t I get a chance to be with my brother before you take him away?”

  Reese threw an anxious look at LAPD detective Max St. John, who had just appeared from the other side of the corridor where he was deep in discussion with his partner Dan Holloway.

  Reese raised his voice and said, “Can’t you get him out of here? Arrest him for threats like that for chrissakes.”

  Max sighed. “He needs to give me a valid reason, Brennan. And as a defense attorney you should know that. He’s upset about his brother. Connor died on the table in there. You have any idea what Boyd was doing with Baylee Scott’s baby?”

  “No idea,” Reese retorted, without feeling guilt for the lie. If Max wasn’t going to arrest Cade on the spot, he’d be damned if he helped out the obstinate detective.

  Max shrugged. “Well, if I were you, I’d watch the doctor’s back,” he cautioned before turning back to Holloway.

  Reese intended to do just that. But first he had to get her attention.

  Like a beacon in a blustery storm at sea, Quinn spotted Reese through the bedlam and started moving his way. Unlike other times when she’d been around him, today she was almost glad to see him. She attributed her change of heart to Cade’s tirade. After all, a friendly face always trumped a pissed-off rant from the next of kin.

  Any time you lost a patient there was bound to be the chance a relative might go off on the staff, the same staff that had fought to save the loved one and failed. But Cade’s furious outburst surpassed any she’d experienced, mainly because he’d aimed it solely at her.

  Leave it to a Boyd, she decided, to embarrass her in front of every co-worker within earshot who would likely gossip about it for days, maybe even weeks.

  She had to believe it was Reese’s cool demeanor that pulled at her now and not the tall good-looking guy with penetrating soft, gray eyes flecked deep with bursts of golden brilliance. According to Kit Griffin, her best bud, the man had graduated law school at Berkeley at the top of his class.

  Quinn had always been attracted to intellect and had to believe that’s why Reese Brennan got her fired up in a way few men had over the years. She didn’t want to be attracted to a lawyer though. But not even the doctors she rubbed elbows with on a daily basis got her juices flowing quite like the cocky attorney did.

  And she wasn’t happy about it.

  She pulled out of the reverie and realized she must be more upset than she thought. She had to remind herself this particular man had a tendency to rub her the wrong way and usually it took no more than five minutes.

  That had to be a huge red flag. And one she didn’t dare ignore.

  The fact that he made his living writing briefs and petitioning the court with arguments that surely affected the wellbeing of others gave her reason to push him away. She detested having to deal with anyone who held that kind of power. She’d been forced to rely on his kind most of her life, at least as far back as she could remember. In her experience, lawyers seemed to take control over anyone who had the money to hire them.

  None had ever turned out to be in her corner, either.

  So, why was she drawn to this particular man?

  Eyeing the curious gazes from her co-workers, all of a sudden she wanted to be somewhere else. Unfortunately, she still had almost ninety minutes to go on her shift. Of course, that was if nothing else major happened.

  Right now, all she wanted was to get out of there, away from Cade Boyd and get home to a hot bath and a bed.

  She sidled up to Reese. Maybe basking for a few minutes in the serenity he always seemed to emit might give her the goose she needed to get through her shift. The man had a calmness she envied. She supposed all attorneys were like that. At least the ones she’d crossed paths with sported their frosty demeanor like heartless drones. Not only that, they were proud of it.

  Okay, maybe she wasn’t being entirely fair. Reese had helped Kit out of a jam when detective Max St. John had been ready to arrest her for killing Alana Stevens. And Reese was the longtime buddy of Jake and Dylan, two guys she had come to respect a great deal over the past two months.

  The fact that Reese had a really nice ass gave him a few extra points in his favor, though. At the moment, he was in the middle of making a case to that same detective about why Cade Boyd should be locked up.

  How could she turn a blind eye to that?

  Lawyer or not, loyalty was high on Quinn’s list. And she had to give him major points for looking out for her welfare.

  So what if the man had an exceptionally fine set of abs to go with the ass? Why would she not take the time to appreciate such a lanky frame, or those sexy gray eyes that gave off enough bedroom vibes to make her mouth water? No wonder she felt that pull in the belly every time they crossed swords.

  After his face-to-face with St. John, it took Reese a few seconds to realize Quinn was standing right next to him. He had to take a second look before their eyes locked and held.

  No one else seemed to matter. Those usual energetic eyes told him she’d reached her limit.

  She asked wearily, “What are you doing here?”

  “Dylan called, told me Connor had kidnapped the baby. I got here as soon as I could.”

  “I was about to stitch up a kid when Baylee called to let me know Connor had taken the baby. I could barely understand her because he busted her lip, Reese. I haven’t even had the time to make sure she’s all right. Have you seen her yet?”

  Reese winced at the idea that petite little Baylee had taken a punch. He shook his head. “I haven’t been upstairs yet but I talked to Dylan not twenty minutes ago as I pulled into the parking lot. Now that Sarah’s back, Baylee’s fine. Battered and bruised, but Sarah’s back with her mother and that’s all Baylee cares about at the moment.”

  Quinn let out a breath. “You know we lost Connor. He was gone by the time he got here.”

  “Yeah, I figured. And I heard Cade pitching a fit from the front door. Not sure I can gut out any sympat
hy for Connor after what he did to Baylee.”

  “How bad is she? I need to go see for myself that she’s okay. Things happened so fast down here, I never made it upstairs. Sarah’s okay though, right? Dylan got her back and she’s okay? They got a doctor to check her out, right?”

  “I believe so.” He didn’t see any need to mention that Dylan had described Baylee as beaten up with bruises already starting to turn purple and black. Nor did he see any reason to mention that Sarah had been wrapped in a bloody shirt.

  Why upset Quinn any more than Cade already had with his outburst?

  Plus, Reese noted that the usual bouncing-off-the-walls Quinn looked done in. As he watched her, his heart did that little two-step it so often did whenever she came within ten feet. Those long legs, those Native American almond-shaped eyes, that creamy toffee skin, her high cheekbones, had captured his attention the moment she’d walked into Kit’s hospital room several weeks back.

  He hadn’t been able to bank his lust ever since.

  Quinn nodded toward St. John and his partner Dan Holloway as the two detectives headed for the elevators. “Do they know…? Do they have any idea who did that―to Connor?”

  “Dylan says it has to be Mr. X.”

  “Mr. X?”

  “Hey, leave it to Dylan to come up with a clever way to describe our mystery man. The way he figures it, Mr. X must’ve followed Connor to the parking garage, cut his throat, and grabbed Sarah before Connor could take off with her in his Hummer, coming to the rescue again just in the nick of time.”

  “It’s been a zoo down here. But I’ll tell you what I know from the cops. They found Connor not ten feet from his vehicle, bleeding out. They found Sarah in one of the elevators that services the parking garage. She was wrapped in a bloody shirt.”

  Okay, so she already knew the gritty details. “And inside the shirt pocket, Dylan found one of those gold cowboys, which tells us it is Mr. X because the cowboys apparently have become his signature.”

  “Jesus.” Quinn rubbed a hand across her face. “Who is this guy?”

  Before he could answer, before they could get on the elevator and head upstairs, Dr. Mendenhall caught up with Quinn and demanded, “Tyler, I need to see you in my office. Now!” He turned on his heels without waiting for a response and crossed to a counter, where he grabbed a chart, expecting her to follow him.

  Quinn shot a quick glance back at Reese before going after Dr. Mendenhall down the hall and into a small room off the ER.

  She had barely shut the door behind her when he asked, “What the hell was that out there? I want the truth, Tyler. And I want it now! Don’t even think about lying to me or putting a pretty spin on it. This is serious. He threatened to sue the staff and the hospital. I need to know now if you’re involved with Cade Boyd in any way, past or present.”

  God, would people ever stop throwing her relationship with Cade Boyd back in her face? “No! I’m not involved with him.”

  “But you know him, know the family―personally?”

  “Some.” She let out a tired sigh. “Okay, Cade and I went out for about six weeks…a very, long time ago. It’s ancient history. It doesn’t have a thing to do with what happened here today.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. If you had trouble with this ranting maniac who just threatened a lawsuit, you shouldn’t have been anywhere near treating his brother. You should have said something the minute you recognized him as someone you knew. You know the rules, Tyler. Any person you have conflict with is off limits in the trauma rooms. You’ve put the hospital in a difficult position. Sumner and Jessica Boyd were two of our biggest donors. The Boyd family wields a great deal of power in this town.”

  “From the moment the EMTs brought him in all I did was get his clothes off and assist in putting pressure on the gaping wound to stop the bleeding. I watched as Angie tried to get him to breathe! And you’re the one who told me to apply pressure.”

  “I didn’t know you knew him!” he snapped back.

  “You were right there. You’re the one who started working on him. Not me. You know that. I just tried to help as best I could, which I might add, is impossible since he looked as if he’d bled out by the time we got him. He looked… gone already. Dr. Mendenhall, don’t you think you’re overreacting to a hysterical relative of the deceased who might…if you ask me…might be a little deranged?”

  “No one’s asking you, Tyler. Do you have any idea how serious this situation is? The Boyd family can make a lot of trouble for this hospital. Lawyers have a tendency to sue hospitals.”

  Quinn had the urge to list the number of Boyds who were no longer able to practice law because they were all dead, but she didn’t think pointing that out at the moment would be beneficial to her cause.

  She of all people understood fully there were still plenty of lawyers at the family firm, Boyd Boyd Geller & Gatz, who would love nothing more than to bring a nice fat lawsuit against her and the hospital.

  So typical, she thought, a bunch of money-greedy lawyers putting an end to her medical career before it ever really got started.

  Wisely she held her tongue and listened as Mendenhall pointed out, “Going forward, we need to do everything by the book. That’s why it pains me to put you on report. You have potential, Tyler, you really do. You care about the patients and it shows. Your medical knowledge is first rate. But like all first year residents your training needs repetition to get better. As of right now, you’re suspended from this hospital.”

  Quinn’s mouth dropped open. “What? No, you can’t. But I didn’t do anything wrong. Jesus, just because Cade threw a hissy fit, I’m suspended? That’s bullshit and you know it. I did my best to get Connor Boyd to stop bleeding. I watched you treat him. I watched Angie intubate him. This is ridiculous.” When she eyed Mendenhall’s set jaw and how serious he was, she added quickly, “Please tell me this isn’t going to put my residency in jeopardy?”

  “Once the review board gets the facts, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  “Review board? How long?” Quinn grumbled.

  “Three weeks―minimum. That should teach you to notify your superiors whenever someone is brought into this hospital with which you have had prior conflict.”

  “Great. Fucking great. Three weeks! That’s almost a month. I just got started!” She yanked the door open and stormed out—and ran right into Reese’s chest.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just got suspended. Damn Boyds,” she tossed out as she stormed past him to the bank of elevators.

  “What reason did they give?”

  “Short version? Cade uttered the word lawsuit and Mendenhall crapped his pants. He thinks two minutes from now someone named Boyd, Geller, or Gatz will walk through those doors, serve him papers and sue the hospital for millions.”

  Quinn snorted. “Just because I was standing within two feet from Connor Boyd trying to stop him from bleeding, I get kicked out of the program.”

  Reese grabbed her arm, stopping her path. “Wait, they kicked you out? They can’t do that without…”

  She shook her head. “I got suspended for three weeks. Might as well be an eternity. Like I had anything to do with the asshole getting his throat slit.” But then she realized for the first time that Mendenhall had never actually answered her question whether or not the suspension put her residency in jeopardy.

  She glanced at Reese as he pushed the elevator button to head upstairs. “I knew Mendenhall didn’t like me, but I never thought he’d suspend me over something as insignificant as this.”

  Reese re-evaluated the situation. A three-week suspension sounded harsh to him but it was a far cry from getting kicked out of the residency program for good. But knowing she needed to vent, he would willingly oblige. He draped his arm around her shoulders. “Buck up. I never saw anyone who needed a lawyer more than you do right now. It just so happens…I know one, an excellent one, the best. I think his brilliant legal mind can get you reinstated, work you back i
n to the rotation in record time.”

  She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Now is not the time to yank my chain, Brennan. This is serious! This is my career.”

  “One more reason you need the services of the finest…”

  This time she poked a finger into his chest. “Just my luck, I’m at the mercy of an arrogant barrister with an ego the size of L.A.”

  When the elevator dinged, they waited for people to drift out of it before stepping into the empty car. “Arrogant is an awfully strong word there, Dr. Tyler. I prefer to think I’m confident and, as such, go the extra mile for my clients.”

  Once the doors clanged shut, Quinn grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulled his head down to her eye level. “You get me re-instated, I guarantee I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Really? Now that’s the best offer I’ve had in…”

  “Do you always yak it up so much?”

  His arms went around her, tugging her into his chest. Her feet left the floor as he backed her up against the mirrored sidewall and took her mouth.

  Lips, slick and wet, did the tongue tango. Instant heat ramped up.

  Chest to chest, she felt the familiar tug in her lower belly.

  The slow graze became a hungry feeding. He felt her body quiver the instant he took the kiss deeper.

  Searing heat poured through her like a firestorm. The moment he plopped her feet back down on the floor, her knees wanted to buckle.

  “Well…” The jaunty comeback died on her lips.

  “I don’t believe it. For once I’ve managed to put a muzzle on Quinn Tyler’s mouth.” She had that look on her face that said she’d just been thoroughly kissed and—was a little scared of taking that next step.

  He saw her wall go back up like a laser shield.

  “Oh, shut up. Just like a damn lawyer to tout his own skills. Should I hold up a sign giving you a seven-point-five?”