Chapter Twenty-Four
Seeing anyone in pain was heartbreaking. Seeing someone she loved in pain was gut-wrenching, especially knowing there was nothing she could do. Quinn was just as helpless as Rogue. She’d stood in the background with Dahlia, Jared, and the rest of Rogue’s security, watching the three men talk. Their bond was obvious. So was their loyalty and love for Sal.
Accidents happened every day, but no one was ever prepared to lose someone they loved. From what she’d overheard, the prognosis wasn’t good. The possibility of them losing Sal was all too real. But Rogue, Trey, and Oz weren’t the only ones feeling it. Dahlia stood next to her, sniffling and discreetly brushing away her tears. They were all preparing for the worst. Without a second thought, Quinn placed her hand on Dahlia’s back and rubbed, hoping it was soothing and comforting.
Her own experience with Sal hadn’t been entirely pleasant and one she’d prefer to forget. But he was obviously very special to a lot of people. Quinn glanced at Dahlia, but her eyes were locked on Rogue, Trey, and Oz. They were family.
Now, she was outside, sitting on a cold bench, bundled up tightly in her jacket, watching Rogue pace from one end of the sidewalk to the other. Every so often he’d take a drag of his cigarette. It was oddly quiet.
“Are you okay?”
There was a long stretch of silence, and Rogue didn’t answer. Nor did he look at her. If she had to guess, he was lost in his own thoughts and worries.
“Is Sal your father?”
“He was my boss.” Rogue took a drag from his cigarette. “Took me, Trey, and Oz on when my brother aged outta the system. Worked our way up and now here the fuck we are.”
Quinn cocked her head. Aged out?
“You mean, like from foster care?”
Rogue scoffed. “Not much fucking care going on, but yeah.”
She stared at him, realizing how little she knew of his past.
“What happened to your parents?”
“Dead.” One word spoken without an ounce of emotion.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he jerked his head and narrowed his gaze.
“I’m not. Didn’t end up in the system ’cause they died. Got sent there ’cause my dad used to enjoy beating on us. That was his fucking hobby.”
That statement hit close to home for her.
“What did your mom do?”
Rogue scoffed. “She was just as useless as him. Can’t even remember what her face looked like since she never fucking showed anytime we needed her.”
“Where was she?”
He carelessly flicked the ashes from his cigarette. “The fuck if I know. Probably out fucking around, getting wasted.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“I was around nineteen. Don’t know how the fuck she found us but came looking for a handout.”
“Did you give it to her?”
His stare hardened. “We gave her what she fucking gave us. Nothing.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But you had Oz and Trey. That must’ve been comforting.”
Rogue snorted.
“I just mean you weren’t alone. You had each other.” Her voice cracked.
Unlike Rogue, Quinn had no one. He stilled, glancing back at her, and his gaze softened as if he was reading her mind. In a surprising move, he walked over and sat next to her.
“Yeah, it was.”
“Thanks for sharing with me.” Quinn smiled. “Can I tell you something?”
Rogue angled his head. “What?”
“I have a really good feeling Sal is going to be okay.”
He knitted his brows. “You have a feeling? What, some new-age hippie bullshit?”
The corner of her mouth curled, and she wrapped her arm through his. “Would you believe in that new age-hippie bullshit if it turned out to be true?”
His gaze softened. “Yeah.”
This was yet another side people rarely saw of Rogue. The human side that hurt just like everyone else, though he hid it better than others.
Rogue’s gaze shifted past her shoulder, and she turned. Nash was standing a few feet away.
“He’s out of surgery.”
Rogue immediately stood, and her hand fell from his lap. He tossed his cigarette onto the sidewalk and stalked to the doors. Nash stepped aside, making a path for Rogue, but didn’t say another word. Rogue grabbed the handle, glanced back at her, and then disappeared through the door. She expected Nash to follow, but he remained planted in his position.
“Was the surgery a success?” Quinn asked.
Nash slowly angled his head. “Yes.”
Quinn smiled. “That’s good.”
He stared back at her with a look she couldn’t quite read. “Not holding a grudge?”
What? She knitted her brows and pushed up from the bench.
“Against Sal? For what?”
Nash drew in a breath and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Ambushing you.”
“He did what he thought was right. I would never hold that against anyone.” Quinn squinted. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t wish pain on anyone.”
Nash’s gaze softened, and he lifted his chin toward the door. “Let’s get inside.”
“I think I’ll just stay out here for…”
Nash was shaking his head before she finished her sentence. “No. Come on, Quinn. Inside.”
“But this is for family.”
Nash walked to the door and opened it wide. “Yes, it is. So, as I said, inside, Quinn.”
She fought against a smile and did what she was told.
*
Quinn spent most of her time in the far corner of the waiting room, standing against the wall. There was limited seating, and while there were a few vacant chairs, she opted to allow others their space. A few additional people had stopped by in the last few hours. She hadn’t been introduced, but one particular couple who arrived with an older man stood out. The most she’d gotten from overhearing the conversation was the woman was a nurse. But that wasn’t what piqued her interest so much as the Ghosttown East cut on the man standing with her.
Quinn felt like an outsider. It was nothing new, but she felt intrusive. It didn’t matter what Nash had insinuated. Quinn was not part of this family. She peered around the room for Rogue, but she hadn’t seen him for a few hours. She covered her yawn and slipped out of the waiting room and downstairs to the cafeteria. This late in the evening, it was already closed, but they had a coffee station set up. Thank you, God.
She grabbed a carrier and poured four cups. Quinn had no idea how everyone took their coffee, so she shoved a handful of sugar in one pocket, another of creamers in the other pocket, and tucked a bunch of stirrers in her back pocket.
By the time she made it back upstairs, the waiting room had emptied out with no sign of Rogue.
“Where have you been?” The harsh, muttered bark came from behind, and she jumped, spinning around. Thankfully, Jared had grabbed hold of the carrier to steady the coffees. His hard gaze told her all she needed to know. I fucked up again.
“I went to get coffee.”
Jared drew in a breath and shook his head. “If you leave, you tell someone, Quinn. It would make my job a whole lot easier if you remembered that.”
“Got it. Sorry.” She lifted the carrier. “Coffee?”
Jared snorted, and his lips twitched.
“I have cream and sugar too.”
“Black is good.”
Quinn smiled and made her way across the room to Nash, offering him a cup. She discarded the carrier and grabbed the last two cups, looking around the room. Her gaze locked on the man seated in the corner. How had she not seen him when she walked in?
Shit.
She glanced down at the extra coffee intended for Rogue. Quinn bit her lip, rolled her shoulders, and stared across the room. She stopped a few feet away when he looked up. If she thought Rogue’s glare was harsh, it wasn’t anything compared to this man. His eyes were cold and frightening.
She extended the coffee cup. “Coffee?”
Oz’s stare sent a cold blast through her blood. This was a mistake. She was about to walk away when he glanced down at the cup. It was as if she was frozen, watching him reach out and take it.
She was so nervous, she wasn’t sure where she’d found her voice.
“I have creamers and sugar if you want.”
Much to her surprise, he held out his other hand, and she quickly dug into her pockets, pulling out the condiments and placing them in his palm. An awkward, bubbling giddiness built up in her chest. She snickered softly.
“Didn’t peg you for a cream and sugar kind of guy.”
Oz slowly glanced up and narrowed his gaze. Shut up, Quinn. She forced a smile and quickly rushed to the opposite side of the room, sitting in the seat farthest from Oz. The room was silent for the next half hour until Trey came in. He spoke to Oz, who left the room and headed down the hall. She wasn’t sure what to make of the silence. She didn’t expect anyone to give her an update on Sal’s condition, but she would’ve liked to know.
The quiet room seemed to quickly shift into a tense mode when Nash stalked across the room. More visitors?
Quinn peeked over at the men. They were only ten feet away, but she sunk deeper into her chair, hoping to not bring any attention to herself. She’d be the last person on the planet they’d want to see. And with good reason. Still…she leaned forward, carefully trying to stay under their radar.
The president of Killcreek was followed by two club members—his VP, Cross, and the notorious enforcer, Wraith. The size of that man would send most people running in the opposite direction.
“Trey.” Ace lowered his chin, standing between the other members. “How is he?”
“Out of surgery. Waiting on an update, but as of now, he’s stable.”
“You thinking an accident or something else?”
Trey cupped his mouth, clearly distressed. “Don’t know yet.”
Ace nodded, straightening his shoulders. “You get more, and you let me know. For Inez.”
Who’s Inez?
“I’ll be in touch.” Trey offered his hand, which Ace shook with a sharp nod.
Ace turned but stilled, deepening his scowl as his glare locked on her. It garnered the attention of Cross and Wraith. There was a distinct and undeniable feeling of hatred. Quinn was getting it tenfold. She sank a little deeper in her seat until Trey maneuvered in front of her, blocking their view.
“Appreciate you coming down,” Trey said.
“Like I said, Inez sent us.”
Ace turned, walking out of the waiting room, and her gaze followed his every step. Just as he rounded the corner, he glanced back. His glare was hard, making his disdain known. Quinn understood it. I’d hate me too.
“Quinn?”
She jerked her gaze to Trey and immediately stood. To say she was on edge would be an understatement. She followed him out into the hallway.
“I need a favor.”
“Anything.”
Trey stilled, and his gaze softened slightly. “Dahlia’s been sitting with Sal. I’ve gotten her to agree to a break to eat. Will you go sit with him?”
Her mouth fell open, and her gaze darted between him and the open hallway. While she was willing to offer assistance, she wasn’t sure she was the best person. After all, her only interaction with Sal had been less than welcoming. Surely, there was someone else better suited for the comforting position. She pressed her hand against her chest and leaned forward, lowering her voice.
“I don’t know if I’m the person he’d want to see when he wakes up.”
Trey arched his brow. “I think you are. Room three thirty-two.”
“But—”
“It’s down the hall on your left.”
He left no room for discussion. Quinn walked down the hall. It was quiet, lacking all the bustle of most hospital floors. The lights were dimmed, and while she tried not to peek into the rooms, she noticed a few were vacant. She stopped at the door, eyeing the room number plaque just as a nurse emerged. She smiled over at Quinn, stepping aside.
“He’s up now.”
Great. It was one thing to sit with him while he was asleep, but making conversation? What would she say? Quinn was the last person he’d want to see. The nurse cupped her shoulder and gave her a slight nudge, leaving her no option but to walk into the room. It was a double, though Sal had it to himself. The curtain was pulled halfway, shielding the bed from sight. Her steps were slow and unsure as her nerves hit an all-time high. Her heartbeat sped up, her palms turned sweaty, and she wrung her fingers.
Quinn poked her head around the curtain. Sal was propped up by two large pillows. He was paler than he’d been when she’d first met him, and he had a large gash across the bridge of his nose. The machines beeped, and she jumped slightly. That gained his attention. He turned his head and squinted.
She lifted her hand and forced a smile. “Hi, um” —she hooked her thumb over her shoulder— “Trey sent me in, but I can get…”
Sal smiled, pushing himself up. “Quinn. I was hoping I’d get to see you again, honey. Come in.”
Ah, shit. Quinn gave him a shaky smile, inching into the room.
“Sit,” Sal said, pointing to the chair in the corner. It was set back about four feet. She sat, grasping the edge of the chair. It was beyond awkward. She dug her nails into the plastic and smiled.
“How are you feeling?’
It was the dumbest question. The man had just been involved in a horrific car crash that left him unconscious. He’d spent three hours in surgery and was currently hooked up to machines and monitors. How the hell do you think he feels, Quinn? So stupid. She felt the heat rush from her chest to her cheeks. She swiped the hair from her face as a distraction and was on the verge of apologizing.
“Honey?”
She glanced up to see Sal smiling and waving his hand. “You’re too far away. Scoot the chair closer.”
Oh. She immediately gripped the plastic bottom and moved it a foot closer, but Sal shook his head. “A little closer.”
Quinn repeated the move, closing the gap and leaving only a foot separating them.
“Is this okay?”
“Perfect.” Sal sighed, eyeing her. “I appreciate you coming in. Most people in your position would be holding a grudge. A warranted one. I believe I owe you an apology.”
What? After all he’d been through, rehashing the scene with Killcreek was the last thing he should be thinking about.
Quinn inched closer to the edge of her seat and shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m fine and—”
Sal held up his hand, and she immediately clamped her lips. His gaze softened, and the corners of his mouth curled. “Are you fine? According to Rogue, you had a rough night after that meeting with Killcreek. My boy didn’t like that.” Sal smirked. “He’s very protective of you. Can’t blame him.”
This was a new revelation. Given more time, she’d probably ponder what that meant. For now, this wasn’t about her. The last thing she wanted to do was add stress to Sal. She waved her hand.
“Well, I’m good now, so you don’t have to apologize.”
Sal furrowed his brows, turning toward her. “Why’s that?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Sal sighed, shaking his head. “You say it doesn’t matter, and I hear you saying you don’t matter. Which one is right?”
“Both, I guess,” she muttered.
Sal’s gaze softened, and he clamped his lips. “I’m sure it won’t mean much, but I stepped in for your own good.”
Quinn forced a smile.
“You think I’m full of shit, but you’re too damn sweet to say it.” He chuckled. “Never seen Rogue so passionate about anyone other than Trey and Oz, maybe me too. Never gotten close to anyone else. Always keeping that guard up like a protective shield. Letting no one in.” Sal cocked his head. “Until you.”
She pressed her lips together, holding her smile at bay.
“Known that boy since he was twelve. God.” Sal laughed. “Tougher than any guy I had working for me. Backed down from nothing. With guys double his size, he always took the fight. Spent his whole life like that. Fighting. Even when he lost, got the everlovin’ hell beat out of him, he never went out without a fight.”
“I can’t imagine him losing a fight.”
Sal glanced over, smiling. “Well, it didn’t happen often. And by the time he reached twenty, no one dared to go against him. The kid was like a rage-filled machine. Given power, nobody wanted to be on his bad side.”
This was a gateway Sal was offering. It gave her a more in-depth insight into Rogue from the eyes of someone who knew him. She couldn’t resist asking.
“Why was he so angry?”
Sal sighed. “Shitty hand he, Trey, and Oz were dealt. Can’t choose the family you’re born into, right?”
Quinn nodded but didn’t add anything.
“Well, since the day he came to work for me, Rogue’s always had something to prove. Even at the top, he’s got more than most people could ever want. That boy is still trying to prove his worth. It’s gotta be…”
Sal paused, and without thinking, she answered. “Exhausting.”
“Yeah. Not sure why he can’t just accept it already.”
Quinn knew. Some people would spend forever trying to prove their worth—not only to everyone else but to themselves. She felt that to her core and bowed her head, whispering her own truth.
“He can’t.”
There was a long stretch of silence.
“Why do you think that is?”
“You’re nothing unless you can serve a purpose for others.”
“That sounds noble,” Sal said.
Quinn snorted, shaking her head. “No, just the truth. We’re all used for something, whether it be a talent, our bodies, or our intelligence. If no one can find use in you, you’re worth nothing.”
“But sometimes our worth goes beyond that, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?”
Sal drew in a breath, sinking back into his pillows. “Sometimes our purpose is bigger than what we can actually see. It interweaves into the future. A purpose isn’t just an act or a job we do. I think sometimes who we are has a way of reaching beyond what we intend or expect. Our purpose” —he cocked his brow— “makes for someone else’s happiness. Their future. It’s bigger than just you.”
Was he talking about Rogue?
And me?
****
Rogue took a deep drag of his cigarette, staring off into the parking lot. He’d lost count of how many he’d smoked in the last half hour waiting on Trey. Calls were being made to their contacts in the police department to find out more about the accident. It was possible it was a wrong place, wrong time scenario. Accidents happened every day. But Rogue needed confirmation. If Sal had a threat, they needed to know about it. Up until now, he’d flown under the radar since his retirement. But he’d made a lot of enemies in his time as leader of the Underground.
Rogue didn’t bother looking over when he heard the footsteps heading toward him. At two in the morning, most people would be on guard. Rogue wasn’t most people. Trey edged up next to him.
“What did he say?” Rogue asked.
“As far as they know, it was an accident. Didn’t find anything to think otherwise. Driver’s been charged with a DUI. Third offense. Probably going to do some time for it.”
Yeah, he fucking will.
“Quinn’s up with Sal now.”
Rogue’s hand stilled at his mouth, and he knitted his brows. Trey shrugged with a low laugh.
“Thought it would be good for both of them.”
Rogue gave a sharp nod and headed upstairs. While he didn’t have a problem with Quinn staying with Sal, it was late, and she’d been at the hospital as long as he had. It was time for her to go home.
Rogue walked into the room but halted behind the curtain when he heard Quinn’s voice.
“I wish I was more like him.”
Who the fuck was she talking about?
Sal’s laugh echoed through the room. It was calming for Rogue. It was confirmation Sal was alive and on the mend. Rogue didn’t realize how much he needed to hear that until now. Eventually, they’d lose him. No one lived forever. But it wasn’t Sal’s time.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard anyone say that. It’s a huge compliment to him.”
Who?
“Probably because they’re envious of him. He’s really strong and smart. I feel stronger when I’m around him. You know, like it rubs off on me too. He knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. He loves his family and wants to protect them. I saw that tonight.” Quinn paused, and he waited. “Those are admirable qualities, I think. Don’t you?”
“Yes, Quinn, I do.” Sal’s voice was soft. The tone he often used with Dahlia. “Not many people get to see the Rogue that you and I do. It’s unfortunate.”
“It is. ’Cause they’re really missing out.”
Rogue stared at the curtain separating them. He had a good idea of what most people thought of him and how most perceived him based on his reputation. They were right. And she saw him differently.
“You’re good for him. Showing him the kinder and sweeter side of life. I will say I can see why he loves you.”
“Oh, umm, n-no…” Quinn stuttered, and Rogue straightened, furrowing his brows. “He doesn’t l-love me.”
Yeah, I fucking do.
This wasn’t the time or place to lay it all out. But it was coming. Rogue waited a few more minutes, and the conversation turned to a light-hearted banter between Sal and Quinn. It was a good time to make himself known. He walked around the curtain, and all conversation ceased.
“How’s it going?” Sal asked.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“I’ve been better.” Sal chuckled and winked at Quinn. “You here to take this beautiful girl home?”
“Yeah.”
Quinn stood looking between him and Sal. “I can stay if you need me.”
“It’s late. Come on.” Rogue stepped back and watched her say goodbye to Sal and slip past him. He glanced over to Sal. “Give me a minute.”
Sal nodded, and Rogue walked out, grabbing Quinn’s hand and leading her down the hall.
“Jay?”
Jared rushed over, stopping in front of them.
“You take Quinn home.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But uh,” she said, and Rogue grasped the back of her neck, pulling her up against his chest.
“Jared’s taking you home. You been here all fucking night. Need you to get some rest.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Rogue watched them walk down the hall and then stepped back into the room. Sal was sipping something out of a plastic glass.
“You always had real good taste in whiskey.”
Rogue walked over, sitting in the chair, shaking his head. “Jesus fucking Christ, what kind of meds do they have you on?”
Sal laughed, taking a sip of his water. “I’m being creative. Cut the old man some slack. Still pissed off at me?”
Under the circumstances, Sal would get a pass. But Rogue remained silent.
“She’s a lot more forgiving than you are. Quinn made it easy.”
“Well, if you fucking get on with it and apologize, then it would go fucking quicker, Sal.”
Sal burst out laughing. It was a good sound. Rogue grilled Sal for the next thirty minutes about the accident. From how it appeared, it was just that…an accident.
Rogue waited until Sal fell asleep. He was prepared to stay there all night. But Trey and Dahlia insisted on relieving him and sitting with Sal. There was around-the-clock care, and Oz somehow pulled off getting Sal into a private section of the floor. He was safe.
Rogue walked out and was approached by Jared.
“Trey and Dahlia are in with him. I want eyes on Sal’s room at all times.”
Jared nodded and glanced down the hall. “Oz has Ridge and Cy in the waiting room with Quinn.”
What the fuck?
“I sent her home.”
Jared sighed. “She insisted on waiting. Said…” Jared cleared his throat.
“What the fuck did she say?”
“She didn’t want to leave you, sir.”
Rogue steeled his features and marched down the hall. He rounded the corner, noticing Cy and Ridge standing around the perimeter of the room. In the corner of the chairs, Quinn was curled up, half lying down with her hand tucked under her face, serving as a pillow.
“Pull the car around,” Rogue said and walked over to where she was sleeping.
Rogue bent down, just staring at her. He brushed his hand over her head, pushing away the strands of hair around her face. He’d never been delicate a day in his life. But for her? Rogue was convinced he’d do just about anything.
*
Rogue had settled on the bench outside the hospital about one hundred yards from the entrance—and the no-smoking signs. He’d been out there for the last thirty minutes. Alone.
Until now.
Rogue watched Oz walk up the sidewalk. He didn’t say a word and took a seat next to Rogue. It was unheard of for either of them to be in public without an army of security. But here were are.
“You sent her home,” Oz said but didn’t elaborate.
“Yeah.” Rogue drew in a breath and then took a drag from his cigarette. “Jared took her about an hour ago. Gonna stay with her until I get there.”
Oz glanced over at him. “Sending your lead to look out for her? Interesting.”
Rogue scowled. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”
Oz gave a careless shrug, lighting his cigar and settling back onto the iron bench. It had been a while since they’d spent any time alone, just the two of them.
It wasn’t the best timing, but then again, Rogue wasn’t known for it. He needed to put everything out in the open with Oz in regards to Quinn.
Rogue angled his head, staring at Oz. “She hacked into our systems. That breach from a few months ago? That was Quinn. Kahill hired her to do it.”
Oz’s hand stilled on his cigar, and his eyes squinted before taking a drag from the cigar.
“You hear what I fucking said, Oz?”
Oz dropped his arm to the side, tapping the excess ashes on the ground and staring into the parking lot.
“Oz.” Rogue snapped.
“I thought you’d hold out a lot longer.”
What? Rogue straightened, eyeing his brother. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Oz took another puff from the cigar and looked over at Rogue, raising his brows. “Known about Quinn and her connection to Kahill for over a week.”
Rogue felt his muscles tighten. “How?”
Oz narrowed his gaze. “Nash. You don’t give him enough credit. He dug a little deeper into her background and the dead boyfriend’s. Followed the money, and it led to Quinn, though from what I understand, she didn’t see much of it.”
She hadn’t, but she would. Quinn would get what was coming to her.
“She could be a valuable asset.”
Yeah, she could. Her working for the Underground would give them an unstoppable edge. He recognized that. But at what cost?
“Not using her for anything that’ll get her hands dirty.”
Oz smirked. “Good answer.”
Rogue glanced over at his brother. His response was unexpected.
“I don’t want her in any part of the Underground.”
Oz sighed. “This isn’t over—not for her or us. Kahill has to be dealt with. But once that matter is taken care of, I agree, she shouldn’t be a part of any deals.”
Rogue snorted. “It’s not like you to agree with anything I fucking say. Especially in regards to an outsider.”
“Quinn’s not an outsider. You proved that weeks ago. Just waiting for you to admit it. I will say it’s been entertaining.”
Rogue snorted and took a drag from his cigarette.
“You got something in mind for Kahill?”
“I do. It requires Quinn’s participation.”
Rogue jerked his gaze to his brother.
Oz arched his brow. “Do you trust me with Quinn’s safety?”
I do.
Rogue cupped his jaw. “When?”
“Next week. You’re still looking into the poker houses, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Make a call to Dante. Set it up, and take a tour so to speak. Down south.”
Kahill’s territory.
The corner of his mouth curled. “We’re gonna ambush that motherfucker in his own territory?”
“Yes.” Oz said.
Fucking perfect!