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My heart started beating faster, and a sense of betrayal started to tear through me.
I’d been turned into the DEA? And Quinn had known?
What the fuck?
I mean, Quinn had said that there could be issues, but he’d worked them out.
Or, so I’d thought.
I stood up, feeling the urge to run.
But, before I could take a step toward the bedroom again, Ande was there, holding my hand.
Holding me in place, more likely.
“Can you give me a minute?” Quinn requested. “I need to help her get dressed.”
I scoffed, causing Ande to squeeze my hand.
I clenched my jaw shut.
“Sure,” Agent Dunn said, sounding amused. “I’ll just wait out here with nowhere to sit.”
Quinn didn’t reply as he closed the door in the agent’s face.
“Quinn,” Garnett hissed. “That was rude.”
“What’s rude is he’s showing up here now when we talked about me getting her to the station tomorrow,” he snapped as he turned around and caught sight of me standing there.
His mouth clenched shut, and he walked toward me, holding out his hand.
I didn’t take it, instead crossing my arms over my chest in a defensive posture.
“I was going to talk to you about it today,” he said. “I just had to get you up and out of your head first.”
I didn’t say anything to that ludicrous statement.
“You know you’re struggling,” he said. “I didn’t want to worry you until I had to.”
I looked away.
He was right, I was struggling.
But he didn’t need to share that.
What he needed to do was stop treating me with kid gloves.
I knew he was following me when he stomped along behind me as I made my way to his room.
I walked over to the closet where Garnett and Ande had practically moved me in.
Walking to a sundress, I yanked it down and started to pull off my clothes in hasty movements.
“Baby,” Quinn murmured, catching my hips and stilling my jerky movements. “Let me help.”
I went still, ready to scream.
Then, because I was angry enough to murder him, I whirled around and leveled a finger in his face.
