Page 79 of Beneath the Surface

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the landscape rolling past—forests giving way to farmland, small towns appearing and disappearing.

“What about you?” Quinn asked eventually. “You said you lost someone in Afghanistan. O’Brien?”

Dax’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t shut down. “Yeah. Charlie O’Brien. My best friend. We enlisted together, deployed together. He...” Dax’s voice roughened. “IED. I was twenty feet away when it went off. Close enough to hear him calling for me. Not close enough to save him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I tried. Got to him, tried to stop the bleeding, but there was too much damage. He died in my arms.” Dax’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I promised his family I’d keep him safe. And I failed.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Logically, I know that. But it doesn’t change the fact that everyone I get close to ends up dead or hurt. O’Brien. My partner on the force who took a bullet meant for me. My—” He stopped abruptly.

Quinn looked at him, at the hard lines of his face, deepened by the scowl he wore. “Your what?”

Dax was quiet for a long moment. Then, “I was engaged once. Three years ago. Leesa. She was a social worker, wanted to save the world one kid at a time. Smart, beautiful, kind. Everything good.”

Quinn felt an unexpected twist in her chest. “What happened?”

“Wheeler happened.” Dax’s voice was flat, emotionless. The kind of tone that meant he was barely holding it together. “She was investigating a group home that was connected to one of Wheeler’s properties. Found evidence of abuse, neglect. Was going to testify. And then—” His breath caught. “Car accident. Driver ran a red light, T-boned her. Died on impact.”

“Oh my God. Dax—”

“Wheeler’s driver. We could never prove it, but I knew. Same way I knew about your father, about Thomas Crane, about all the others.” His voice was raw now. “She died because she was going to expose him. Died because she was close to me. Because I couldn’t protect her.”

Quinn’s heart broke for him. “That’s why you pushed me away. After we kissed. That’s why you said we shouldn’t.”

“Everyone I love dies, Quinn. Everyone. And I can’t—” His voice cracked. His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, it creaked under the pressure. “I can’t lose you too. I won’t survive it.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.” Quinn turned in her seat to face him fully. “Dax, look at me.”

He kept his eyes on the road.

“Dax.”

Finally, he glanced at her.

“You didn’t kill those people. Wheeler did. And living in fear, pushing people away—that’s just letting him win in a different way.” Quinn reached over and touched his face, making him look at her. “I’m not Leesa. I’m not O’Brien. I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m choosing this. Choosing you.”

“Quinn—”

“I know it’s scary. I’m scared too. But I’d rather be scared with you than safe and alone.”

Dax pulled the truck over to the side of the road, put it in park, and turned to face her fully.

“I can’t promise nothing will happen to you,” he said roughly. “I can’t promise I’ll always be able to protect you. But I swear to God, Quinn, I will die trying.”

She felt a tingle in her nose, a burning in her eyes. “I’m not asking you to die for me. I’m asking you to live with me. To fight with me. To trust that we’re stronger together than apart.”

Dax stared at her for a long moment. Then he grabbed hold of the back of her neck and pulled her across the console before she could process what was happening and kissed her hard, desperately, like she was oxygen and he’d been drowning.

Quinn kissed him back with everything she had, pouring all her fear and hope and determination into it.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Dax rested his forehead against hers.