Shadows of Loyalty

Chapter 12

Quinn’s lungs burned as Alicia’s arms tightened around his neck, her smartwatch digging into his skin. He could feel her breathing steady—methodical, precise. Not the breath of a panicked wife. The breath of a trained operative.

His mind raced. She was a spy. The woman he’d married, trusted, loved for three years—she had betrayed him. Every soft moment, every kiss, every word—it was all a lie.

No. Not all of it. It couldn’t have been. But right now, survival was all that mattered.

He gritted his teeth and shifted his weight, letting his knees buckle as he dropped down suddenly. Alicia’s balance faltered, and he twisted, throwing his shoulder back into her stomach. The impact broke her grip just long enough for Quinn to spin out of her hold, gasping for breath.

"You were going to kill me," he said, voice hoarse, eyes wide in disbelief.

Alicia’s face was unreadable. "You weren’t supposed to find out."

Quinn stared at her—this woman who had lain beside him every night, who had laughed at his jokes, who had pretended to love him.

She was already moving.

Quinn barely dodged the punch aimed at his throat. He countered with a strike to her ribs, but it was half-hearted. He didn’t want to hurt her. Not yet. Not until he had answers.

"Why, Alicia?! Who are you really?!"

Her fist collided with his jaw, sending him stumbling back. She moved with brutal efficiency, not like someone improvising, but someone executing a well-practiced plan.

Quinn caught her next strike and twisted, slamming her against the kitchen counter. "Three years," he hissed. "Three goddamn years."

"Don’t be so dramatic," Alicia spat, kicking his shin and spinning out of his grip.

They circled each other in the living room. Framed photos of happy memories looked down like silent witnesses to the unraveling of a life. Quinn’s heart pounded, torn between fury and heartbreak. His knuckles bled. Alicia had a split lip.

She moved fast—faster than him, using her smaller frame and speed to get behind him. In a flash, her arm snaked around his neck again, choking off his air. She yanked him down, her knee in his back. He struggled, eyes going dark.

Alicia leaned in, whispering coldly into his ear. "This was never personal, Quinn. Just the mission."

Suddenly, the front door burst open.

Sasha.

She walked in casually, like she’d been invited to dinner.

"You're too soft, Reeds," Sasha said as she assessed the scene. Her bright hazel-green eyes locked onto Alicia’s form, and in the blink of an eye, she moved.

Sasha’s boot slammed into Alicia’s temple, forcing her to release Quinn and stumble backward.

Quinn fell to the floor, coughing violently as he struggled to breathe.

Alicia turned to face Sasha, blood dripping from her lip, expression finally breaking—anger, betrayal, shock.

"You," Alicia hissed.

Sasha smirked. "Me."

They clashed like twin blades—Sasha’s graceful, agile strikes against Alicia’s raw, methodical power. Each blow was met with another. Fists cracked against ribs, arms blocked knees, elbows snapped toward skulls.

The fight was a whirlwind. Sasha was better—but Alicia was desperate. A cornered traitor.

Alicia managed to land a brutal knee to Sasha’s stomach, followed by a vicious backhand, but Sasha recovered with a spin and slammed her heel into Alicia’s shoulder.

Quinn staggered to his feet, eyes wide as he watched the two most dangerous women in his life tear each other apart.

Glass shattered. A table broke. The living room looked like a warzone.

Then Alicia made her move.

With a feint toward Sasha’s legs, she snatched a flash grenade from her boot—something Quinn hadn’t even noticed—and tossed it toward the ground.

Boom.

A blinding flash lit the room.

Quinn shielded his eyes, ears ringing.

By the time he regained vision, Alicia was gone.

The front door was wide open.

Sasha stood in the center of the ruined room, breathing hard, rubbing her eyes. "Damn it."

Quinn leaned against the wall, still coughing, trying to process everything.

Sasha looked at him. "You okay?"

"No," he said, voice hollow. "She was my wife."

Sasha didn’t respond. She knew that pain too well.

Quinn’s hands trembled. The home he thought was safe, the love he thought was real—it was all a lie. And the woman who betrayed him had just escaped into the wind.

But not forever.

"We’ll find her," Sasha said, brushing hair from her face. "She just declared war. And I don’t lose wars."

Quinn nodded slowly, eyes hardening. "Neither do I."

The safe house was buried in the countryside an hour outside D.C., a modest cabin surrounded by thick woods and accessed only by a winding dirt road. A storm had rolled in, casting a cold grey pall over the landscape as Quinn and Sasha arrived in a nondescript black SUV. The tension in the car was thick—neither had spoken much since the fight with Alicia. Sasha kept her eyes forward, jaw clenched. Quinn gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary.

They pulled in behind a rusted-out barn and parked beneath an overhang. Sasha jumped out first, scanning the perimeter with professional precision before giving a subtle nod. Quinn followed her, his face still raw with disbelief and silent fury.

Inside the cabin, the lights were dim. Calvin sat at a wooden table, boots up on the edge, thumbing through a tattered deck of cards. Gary stood in the corner near a small wood-burning stove, disassembling and cleaning a pistol.

Calvin looked up and offered a crooked smile. "Ah, the broken-hearted soldier and the ice queen. How touching."

"Shut up, Calvin," Quinn growled.

Calvin didn’t flinch. "You alright?"

"Define ‘alright,’" Quinn said, eyes burning.

"Fair," Calvin replied. He tossed the cards onto the table and leaned forward. "We need to leave the country. Now."

Quinn blinked. "What? Just like that?"

Sasha sat across from Calvin, arms crossed. "Why the rush?"

"Because, sweetheart," Calvin said with mock affection, "our boy and Gary here are now officially public enemies. Top of the wanted list. Framed by the golden girl in his bed. And trust me, the CIA won’t hesitate to shoot first and leak a story second."

Quinn turned to Gary, who gave a slow nod. "My clearance was revoked ten minutes after yours. Someone’s tying off loose ends."

Quinn’s mind reeled. He steadied himself with a hand on the back of a chair. "What about Mason?"

Calvin's expression grew serious. "She’s staying behind. Said she’ll try to clear your names, dig through the wreckage from the inside. But it’s risky."

Quinn’s jaw clenched. "She’s risking everything."

"She said someone had to," Gary muttered, reassembling the slide with a snap.

"Right now," Calvin said, standing up, "we need to disappear. Germany. Austria. Doesn’t matter where. We go dark for a bit until we know who’s pulling the strings."

Sasha looked at Quinn. "You ready to run?"

He didn’t answer right away. His mind was still stuck on Alicia. Her grip around his neck. The coldness in her eyes. The text from Mason. The way she’d planned it all.

"I’m ready to fight," Quinn said at last, his voice like gravel. "But I’ll disappear. For now."

Calvin nodded. "Good. Then pack what you need. We leave in one hour."

Sasha moved toward the back of the cabin to gear up. Gary followed, leaving Quinn and Calvin alone.

"You loved her, didn’t you?" Calvin asked after a moment.

Quinn didn’t answer.

"She fooled you. Happens to the best of us. But you get back up. You don’t let it define you."

Quinn finally met his gaze. "It won’t."

Calvin’s smirk returned, faint but genuine. "Then we’ll be fine."

Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance. The storm was just beginning.