The Target

“I love you, Hannah.”

He wondered about the sadness in her eyes, but dismissed it when she reached up and put her hands on his cheeks. “I love you, too, Quinn. And that’s why we’ve got to talk….”

QUINN AGREED INSTANTLY and led her toward the edge of his bed, tugging her hand until she sat down beside him. Hannah’s heart stung with a physical pain. In the past, she’d thought people were exaggerating when they talked about heartbreaks, but now she understood.

Lying in her bed the night before, listening to a hard rain pound the roof and thinking about the funeral, she’d decided the time had come. She had a dream, and if she wanted to fulfill it, then she had to set the plans in motion. She had to. No one else was going to do it for her. Not even Quinn, as much as he loved her and she loved him.

As she wondered how to explain this to him, he surprised her by speaking first. “I’m glad you want to talk because I want to, too. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything that happened. We have dangerous jobs, Hannah, and this has made me aware of that fact even more than I was before.” He flicked his hand toward the hospital bed and all the medical equipment. “I ended up here…but it could have just as easily been you.”

“I know that,” she admitted. “In fact, I had my own realization…at the funeral. When I was sitting there, staring at those little coffins, I saw the truth. It could have been you lying up there at the front of the church instead of those poor kids.” She took a deep breath. “I knew what I was getting into when I joined the team, but…” She shook her head. “I don’t think I really understood until that moment.”

He had twined their fingers together, and in the silence that followed he looked down at their hands. When he didn’t answer or say anything, she reached over with her free hand and gently touched his cheek. “Quinn?”

He raised his eyes to hers, and something tightened inside her. She recognized the feeling as a warning, but for what, she had no idea.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the past two years, Hannah. Our careers aren’t like anyone else’s,” he said. “And I’m not just talking about danger. What we do is incredibly intense. We have to be one hundred percent ‘on’ all the time. We can’t accomplish what we need to with our brains half engaged—I’ve had friends who did that, and they paid for it with their lives.”

“I understand that…now,” she said quietly.

Since the accident, his voice had become harsher. The new tone made his next words sound all that more ominous.

“You say that, but do you really? I’ve been told your mind isn’t on the job. You’ve been distracted by me and everything else.”

She knew immediately where he was going and flared, not because he knew but because someone had taken it upon themselves to inform him. “You’re talking about the pipe bombs, aren’t you? Who told you?” When he didn’t answer—and she knew he wouldn’t—she went on, hiding her anger. “I made a mistake, Quinn, and I know it. I was waiting until you got stronger and then I was going to tell you about it myself. But I can promise you it won’t happen again.”

“You can make that kind of promise, sweetheart, but bad things can still happen.”

She’d given the accident a lot of thought, and when she’d calmed down, she’d come to see that was exactly what it had been—an accident. Everyone made them; she’d just have to be more careful. She looked at him levelly. “I was tired and I screwed up. I made a mistake, but that’s all it was.”

He stood suddenly. She did the same, and he reached out to grip her shoulders. Normally his touch would have brought heat with it, but this time a cold distance rose between them. Hannah shivered as another bad feeling rippled down her back.

“It was more than a mistake, Hannah. You could have been badly hurt…or even worse. If we’re going to make this work, then something has got to change.”

“Like what?”

He hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe it’s time for one of us to leave the team.”

Her vague anxieties suddenly crystallized into something hard and cold. It lodged itself in her chest as she understood what had happened. Bobby was the one who’d told Quinn about the incident and Bobby was the one who’d put this thought in Quinn’s head. That fact registered, then fled. Bobby wasn’t the important one here. “Is that what you think should happen?”

“We’ve worked together for two years,” he hedged. “I’d like to think we could continue. But…”

“But this makes you more sure than ever that we shouldn’t have a family.”

He didn’t have to answer. The truth was in his eyes.

In the hall outside, a cart rumbled past. Dinner had arrived and was being distributed. Hannah felt nauseous as the smell of food wafted into the room.

Quinn stared and waited for her to say something.

“I can’t do this any more,” she said abruptly, rising and stepping away from him.

“That’s fine,” he said. “We can talk later if you like—”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.” She waved her hands between them. “I’m talking about this. I’m talking about you and me. I can’t do it any longer.”

A stunned expression came over his face. “What are you saying?”

“It’s over between us, Quinn. I want out.”

He tried to reach for her, but she dodged his touch. He blinked, then spoke. “I understand you’re upset. We’ve been through hell, but Hannah… C’mon. You’re not thinking this through. We love each other. I need you and you need—”

She interrupted him, her voice like broken glass. “I know what I need, Quinn. And it’s not the same thing you do. The real issue isn’t about what we do or where we work, it’s about who we are. And we’re two very different people who want very different things. I knew that a long time ago, but I loved you so much I thought I could change you.” She took a deep breath. “I was wrong.”

“This isn’t about our differences. This is about life and the realities that are out there. I’m not talking about having a family or children—”

“It’s all connected, Quinn.” She looked at him, pain filling her entire body. “I can’t believe you don’t understand that, as smart as you are about people.”

“Hannah, you don’t understand—”

“You’re right,” she agreed calmly. “I don’t understand. And I probably never will. But I can’t let that stop me from doing what I want to do. This life is the only one I’ve got. I want to live it.” She swept her hand down his cheek, as her eyes filled with tears. A moment later, she was gone.

STUNNED BY HANNAH’S WORDS, Quinn felt the strength drain from his legs.

This was crazy.

Quinn loved Hannah. She loved him. How could she do this to them? How could she just walk away?

Even as he asked himself those questions, Quinn acknowledged he’d known all along this possibility existed. They’d argued too much for him to think otherwise. But dammit it to hell, children weren’t a possibility for them. He’d lost too many comrades to think it couldn’t happen to him, too. He wouldn’t bring a child into the world just to abandon it. That kind of irresponsibility went against everything he believed in.

The door swung open again, and for one heart-stopping moment, Quinn looked up, thinking she might have returned. But it wasn’t Hannah. One of the aides stood in the doorway, a dinner tray in her hand. She started to argue as he waved her off, then she looked at his face. Without saying a word, she backed quickly out of the room.

His heart felt as if it’d been winched from his chest and hoisted high. He’d never loved another woman as he loved Hannah. And with absolute certainty, he knew he’d never love anyone that way again.

But what choice did he have?

A clean break could set her free. Hannah didn’t deal with shades of gray, so a black-and-white resolution—right or wrong—would give her the ability to move on. She could find a nice accountant, keep her career, have her children and never worry. She’d write Quinn off and everything would fall into place for her. She’d forget all about him.

He lied to himself and said it was for the best.

Her happiness was what mattered most. She could have her career and her family, too. Quinn closed his eyes, more pain—despite his resolution—flooding his heart. She’d share her life with someone who saw things as she did. Someone who could be there for her and her children. Forever.

Someone who wasn’t Quinn.

CHAPTER THREE

Nine months later—October

“I DON’T HAVE TIME TO talk about this.” Hannah stared across her bed at her mother. “I have to pack. I have to catch a plane to Florida, and once I’m there I have a bomb to examine. I don’t have time for this.”