Broken by Shiloh Walker Page A

huddled over her coffee.
    There was another call she needed to make. Reluctantly, she grabbed her phone and dialed.
    “It’s me.”
    The other voice on the phone was caustic. “I’ve got caller ID. I know it’s you.”
    Sara rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an ass. Anything going on?”
    “Hmmm. I don’t know. It’s possible. But don’t get your hopes up.”
    Sara knew better than that. Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “Be careful.”
    “Always.”
    The call ended and Sara was left in silence, sitting in a sun-drenched kitchen and fighting the urge to cry.
    She needed to get up and go through her routine. Make herself go running.
    But . . . not yet.
    Not just yet.

    THE second he saw her standing in the yard, doing the same thing she did every morning, Quinn knew what he was going to do.
    Hell, he’d been thinking about it all night. He hadn’t slept a whole lot, which was nothing new. But it hadn’t been bloody, vicious dreams keeping him awake.
    “Oh, I want to. Like you wouldn’t believe. But I can’t afford it.”
    Her words rang in his head and common sense told him he needed to leave her alone. Stay away.
    He’d listened to his common sense once before. He’d been listening to common sense when he’d walked away from Elena that last day—common sense, duty, whatever the hell he wanted to call the voice that kept whispering to him that Elena knew what she was doing, that they both had a job to do. He’d listened to common sense, and not his heart, and they’d both paid the price.
    He doubted whatever was complicating Sara’s life was anything so extreme, although he had every intention of finding out. But he wasn’t keeping his distance from a woman he wanted, from a woman who wanted him, over a bunch of bullshit “complications.”
    Quinn was damn sick and tired of never going after the things he really wanted. He was tired of not listening to his heart. He was tired of being alone. He was tired of living without the things he craved . . . the things he needed. People he needed . . .
    If she really didn’t want him, fine, so be it. He’d leave her the hell alone. Then at least he wouldn’t have another reason to keep asking himself, What if . . . maybe and what might have happened .
    She’d turned to fire when he’d touched her. She wanted him. Which meant what he needed to do was wear her down.
    Quinn had dodged bullets, jumped out of airplanes, lived through knife fights, and helped take down some of the most notorious criminals in the world. He’d had people spit at him, shoot at him, threaten to rip his eyes out, cut his dick off.
    He knew how to handle tense situations.
    He could handle Sara.
    He hoped. He tried not to think too hard about it as he dug out a shirt to throw over the cotton gym shorts he’d pulled on earlier.
    His cell phone started ringing just as he headed out the door. It was a familiar ring, and one he’d ignored too much the day before. Guilt had him pausing long enough to grab it and flip it open.
    “Call back later.”
    “Nice to talk to you, too, brother. Yeah, I miss hearing your voice,” Luke said.
    With a snort, he said, “If you want to hear my voice, talk to yourself. We sound the same.”
    “Well, at least you’re talking today.”
    Quinn angled his head around to look out the window. Yep, Sara was still doing her mental pep talk and pacing deal. “Haven’t much wanted to talk the past few days.”
    “Usually, when you’re not in the mood to talk is when you need to be doing it. Something sure as hell has had you worked up and when I try to call? You ignore me.”
    Identical twins, the two of them had one of those inexplicable bonds, each instinctively knowing when the other one needed him. For a lot of years, Quinn had kept himself closed off from his brother. It was something he’d decided he needed to stop and had been working on it the past year.
    But he didn’t have time for this right now.
    “Save the armchair