And Elizabeth knew it was over.
Please don’t blame yourself, Quinn. I love you.
20
Quinn fired two shots, dropping a bastard with an L1A1 and moving as quickly as he could down the corridor toward the back room where Grant’s man said Lewis had taken Elizabeth. Grant’s men were inexperienced, and that had cost them precious minutes as they’d tried to infiltrate the warehouse. He’d give his bollocks to have the Cobra crew with him right now.
I’m almost there, Lilibet.
He came to a closed door, kicked it open, and moved in, rifle raised.
And there was Lewis bent over Elizabeth, blade at her throat.
Quinn had no choice. He pulled the trigger—a single shot to the ankle.
Lewis cried out, fell back, the knife clattering to the concrete.
“Quinn!” Relief washed over Elizabeth’s face.
But Quinn still had Lewis to deal with. “You fuckin’ son of a bitch!”
Quinn moved in on him, stepped on his knife, put himself between Lewis and Elizabeth, who was bound wrist and ankle and couldn’t stand. “I trusted you like a brother. You betrayed me, and you betrayed Jack.”
Lewis clutched his ankle, blood running between his fingers. “Jack betrayedme. I got him the job, and he fucking paid me back by trying to turn us in to the police. He got what he deserved.”
“Move! Back away from her!” Quinn wanted Lewis as far from Elizabeth as possible so he could bend down and cut through the ties that held her fast.
“How am I supposed to move when you shot me in the fucking ankle?” Lewis scooted on his ass, leaving a trail of blood, his gaze on the knife beneath Quinn’s foot.
“You want this?” Quinn took the knife, freed Elizabeth, and helped her to stand. “Are you okay?”
“A bit dizzy.” There was a fresh bruise on her left cheek—proof that some bastard had struck her. “They drugged me.”
Quinn put her behind him. He wanted more than anything to hold her, but now wasn’t the time, not when the warehouse was full of armed criminals and Lewis sat only a few feet away from them. Even injured, he was dangerous.
“How do you think this ends, McManus? If you kill me, you’re a murderer. You’ll go to prison.”
“He’s no’ goin’ to kill you.” Grant stepped into the room, HK416 slung over his shoulder. “I am.”
Lewis’ face went white, his eyes wide. “You.”
“Have we met?” Grant knelt down, looked Lewis in the face, pretended to study him. “I dinnae think so. I’d remember a stinkin’ piece of shite like you.”
“I know who you are.” Lewis glared up at Quinn. “You hang out with drug dealers and terrorists now, McManus? And you think you’re better than I am.”
Grant stood. “You’re accusin’ me of bein’ a criminal when you give drugs to teenage girls and rape them?”
“The girls are all willing.”
Grant’s expression turned to disgust. “They’re no’ old enough to be willin’.”
“They want the money—and the drugs. I don’t have anything to do with the girls, anyway. That’s Whitehall. I just clean up his fucking messes.”
“They’re underage. That’s a sexual offense.” Elizabeth wobbled, clutched Quinn’s arm to steady herself. “And then there’s Katie Cameron. Yes, I figured it out. She overdosed on drugsyougave her. You dumped her body in a ditch.”
This was news to Quinn. Who the hell was Katie Cameron?
Elizabeth explained. “Jack must have recorded something about her on his phone. That’s why they murdered him.”