Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

DECLAN

My afternoon was spent forcing Quinn to let me help her stubborn arse unpack her things—or at least move the hundred-pound boxes to her room. Her inability to let anyone help her— independence, as she calls it— has always infuriated me. One day of it, I couldn't wait to leave the apartment. This is going to be one hell of an aggravating arrangement.

I should've said no.

I should've fought it.

But fuck if I can figure out why I didn't.

Already needing to get some air, I waited until Fiona was asleep before heading to the club under the ruse of giving Quinn time to get settled on her own. This, too, was a mistake . Since arriving, I've already had two women throw themselves at me so violently I'm surprised they didn't break their own necks. It's like they all know my situation and want to be the reason I step back into the lifestyle.

Who knew "fucking the widower" was a kink?

"Whiskey neat?" Jorge asks from behind the bar, and I nod while surveying the room for any of my brothers. I don't find any of them, but it's late. I'd be surprised if they haven't already ventured down the hall to a private room. Jorge returns a moment later with my glass and slides it across the bar. "Wasn't expecting to see you here tonight. Isn't Quinn moving in today?"

"She's my new nanny, Jorge, not my girlfriend." I take a gulp from the glass, the amber liquid burning as it runs down my throat.

"I'm sorry. I just figured with your history?—"

"We don't have history," I bark. The sudden look of confusion spreading across his face quickly tells me he was referring to our childhood friendship and not the secret the two of us have been harboring for the past fifteen years.

The phone on my nightstand ringing wakes me, and I roll over to answer it. As I reach for it, I note the time—2:47 a.m.

"What'd you do this time, Finn?" I groggily huff as I pull the phone to my ear.

"Dec?" a soft, pained Irish accent cracks when I answer the phone.

"Quinn?"

"I'm sorry, but can you come get me?" she chokes through a sob. I huff in annoyance, the lot of them always calling when they need me to get them out of trouble. As I sit up in bed, she whispers through the phone, "He wouldn't take no… He tried to…"

"Where are you?" I snarl, immediately seeing red. I toss back the covers and firmly plant my feet on the ground, ready to run to her.

"The bathroom. I locked myse ? —"

"No, Quinn! Where the fuck are you?" I interrupt her, needing to know how to get to her. Now. She rattles off an address not far from my place as I quickly pull on my pants and shoes. "I'll be there in five."

After abruptly hanging up the phone, I grab a sweatshirt from the floor and pull it on as I head toward the kitchen for my keys. My steps are fast and heavy, echoing off the concrete as I make my way through the parking garage. I cannot get behind the wheel of my Shelby fast enough.

I reach the address Quinn gave me and am surprised to find it's a brownstone with a party in full swing. Drunks stagger down the front steps and into the street as music blares through the open front door. I park half on the sidewalk, and I take the steps two at a time and push through the front door before heading upstairs.

I shove open the first door as I rush down the hall. Empty. Muffled cries come through the second, and I'm about to barrel through it with my shoulder when I hear her broken screams come from down the hall. "Stop! Help! Someone!"

"You don't get to be a fucking tease all night and not be expected to fucking put out," a tall, muscular blond snarls as he pulls Quinn from the bathroom by her hair.

"She said no," I shout over Quinn's screams for help as the blond bends her over the bed and hikes her skirt around her waist.

"Dec…" Quinn pleads for help through the tears streaming from her bloodshot eyes.

He stares at me as he hastily undoes his pants and claws at her panties. "This doesn't fucking concern you, Dick. Get out and shut the fucking door."

"But it does," I mutter under my breath. Turning on my heel, I push the door shut and click the lock.

"Dirty little teases get exactly what they ask for," the blond shoves her face into the mattress before realizing I haven't left the room. "Stay if you want, but there won't be much left of her by the time I'm done."

"I could say the same about you." I snidely reply, seconds before rushing and tackling him to the ground. Quinn curls into a ball on the bed in a pile of tears as I pound at the man pinned beneath the weight of my body. My fists pummel his face until my knuckles are cracked and bleeding like the skin they're crashing into. But I don't stop. I hit him again and again until he no longer resembles a man, not stopping until he is a limp pile of bloody skin and broken bones beneath me.

"You have no idea just how much she concerns me," I whisper, wiping my bloodstained hands across his shirt before climbing from his dead body. Turning, I find Quinn tucked into a ball, still exposed, and sobbing uncontrollably. I approach her slowly and try to comfort her. "You're safe, Quinn. I'm here."

Hooking my fingers under her panties, I pull them back into place before lowering her skirt and helping her from the bed. Her tears dampen my sweatshirt as she holds on to me tightly and sobs into my chest. As I hold her against me, I place a kiss on the top of her forehead while pushing back thoughts I shouldn't be having about her.

Pulling back slightly, she stares up at me with her big green eyes as she releases the fistfuls of my shirt. Not caring about the blood droplets staining my skin, her fingers lightly rub over my cheek. Her lower lip quivers as her words tremble over it. "Thank you."

"I've got you." I cup her face and stare down at her. "No one will ever hurt you."