Chapter Twenty-Six

“So, um…” Quinn twisted her fingers, staring out of the SUV's backseat window. “Where are we going?”

Rogue had given her limited information on their destination. The cars showed up just past eight, and the ride took over two hours. She and Rogue were in a separate vehicle from Trey, but she knew he was behind them. In fact, several cars were traveling in their pack.

Quinn didn’t think much of it beyond her curiosity. Until they crossed state lines. Her nerves were on high alert as she recognized some landmarks. She was in familiar territory but not Rogue’s. Shit!

Quinn turned in her seat to face Rogue, who was staring at his phone. She grasped his thigh, and he looked over.

“You play poker?” he asked as if it was the most normal and basic question.

“Poker?”

Between the darkness and the tint on the windows, it was impossible to make out where they were.

“Opening up some poker houses up north. Gonna check this one out.”

She straightened, leaning across his lap and peering out the window. All she could see was a plain brick building in the middle of nowhere. She gasped when his hand slid down her back and over her ass. They were in a position of a million possibilities. She looked up at Rogue, clocking his heated stare.

“Strip poker?” Quinn smirked.

She may have found the comment amusing. Rogue did not. His brows tightened as he leaned closer.

“Keep your fucking clothes on.”

He opened the door and got out, then turned and held out his hand to assist her. He may not have been chivalrous in too many aspects, but Rogue did have his charm. He started to the front door, and security gathered around them. She glanced around, realizing there were about two dozen men. Was this necessary? It seemed a little over the top, even for Rogue. They were just doing research, which she assumed meant observing.

The following fifteen minutes were a blurred whirlwind. She stayed close to Rogue’s side, but they were shuffled through two rooms and encircled by security. She barely saw her surroundings. They walked up a dark flight of stairs, and when the door opened, she was amazed by the spacious room.

There were two bars on either end, and couches and chairs scattered throughout. It was a viewing room of sorts. Rogue let go of her hand, turning to the man who’d commandeered the tour.

“This is Quinn,” Rogue said, then pointed to the sharp-dressed, dark-haired man. “Dante runs the house.”

Dante smiled, offering his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Quinn.”

She shook his hand. “Thanks for showing us around.”

Dante stilled, then grinned and cocked his head, staring. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

A soft growl radiated through the room, and she looked over at Rogue, who had Dante pinned in his stare.

“Back the fuck up.”

Jesus, Rogue. Quinn tried her best, glaring at her man, but he focused solely on Dante. The rudeness didn’t seem to faze him, and Dante held up his hands, stepping back with a playful smile.

After introductions, discussion turned to the games. There was talk happening all around her, but Quinn was enamored with the mirrored wall overlooking the gaming floor. They had a view of the whole room and all the tables. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there watching, but it was fascinating.

“Would you like to play?”

She jerked her head to find Dante beside her. He handed her a small tray with chips on it.

“I don’t really know how to play.”

Dante glanced back at Rogue. “I’ve been instructed to teach you.”

Really?

“How much is this?” Quinn asked, staring down at the chips.

“Ten thousand.”

She widened her eyes and gasped. Ten thousand dollars?

She whipped her head toward Rogue, who was staring at her.

“I told you I don’t really know how to play.”

He kept staring back at her.

“What if I lose it?”

The corner of his mouth curled in a sexy smirk. “Then you’ll owe me.”

Quinn had a feeling the terms of the negotiation would benefit her this time, so she merely nodded. Dante had offered to give her a crash course while Rogue and Trey watched the club from the loft area. When she stepped out on the floor, she glanced up at the mirrored wall. Without being able to see him, she knew Rogue was watching her.

“Before you take a seat at the table, I’ll explain the rules. It’s always good to observe the players. Knowing the game is just half of poker. The other side is knowing your opponents. It’s a lot like life.”

It was an interesting take on the game. They spent the next half hour with Dante breaking down the rules and objectives while watching others play at the tables. It was fascinating. She had the basics down, but reading her opponents would probably take a lot more study than she could master in one sitting,

“I feel like it’s kind of cheating you telling me all this.”

Dante smiled. “You have a very expressive face. You’ll need some type of upper hand to go against anyone at this table.”

Quinn took the lead through the room, stopping at another table closer to the back. From what she could gather, the tables were set up in a buy-in or stakes order. The higher buy-ins were closer to the back of the room. When she asked Dante about it, he confirmed her suspicions with a valid explanation.

“Keeping it uniform helps keep people from making the mistake of sitting at the wrong table. Once a player takes a seat, they must play at least one hand. If you sit at a table where the buy-in is five thousand, in your case, you must play it.”

“Good to know.”

Dante snickered. “And if you’re feeling very lucky, we have a back room for the high rollers.”

Quinn gasped with a bubbly excitement. “That’s a real thing? I mean, I’ve seen it on TV, but I wasn’t sure if it was just Hollywood theatrics.”

“Would you like to see it?”

Her mouth fell open. “Really?”

Dante smirked and jerked his head. She followed close behind. He opened the door and gestured her through. It was a small, narrow room no bigger than six by ten, resembling more of a hallway with another door at the opposite end.

Dante passed her and opened the door. The room was smoky, resembling the main room, though much smaller, with a bar set up in the corner. She was so busy scoping out the left side of the room, she’d gotten to the opposite end before the door clicked, and she heard a familiar voice.

“Feeling lucky, Quinn?”

Her gaze locked on the empty table a few feet away as her heart rate skyrocketed, and she felt the blood drain from her face. It was as if she’d walked into a meat locker. She slowly turned her head. When her eyes locked on Kahill, her stomach plummeted.

He raised his brows and laughed, spreading his arms. “Welcome, sweetheart. I must say, you seem surprised.”

Quinn looked up at Dante, whose gaze remained on Kahill, though he didn’t appear shocked to see him.

“Let me ask you, Quinn. How many times must one person be set up before they actually start taking notes to prevent it from happening again?”

I’m asking myself the same thing right now. Goddammit, Quinn.

“I believe this is number three for you?”

She clamped her lips and eyed Dante, who refused to look at her. He turned to Kahill, nodded, and walked out the door.

Kahill grabbed her arm, walking her toward the back door. “Let’s take a ride, shall we?”

Quinn struggled against his hold but it was a fruitless effort. Even if she’d gotten away from Kahill’s clutches, she’d never outrun his security.

The door opened, and Kahill came to an abrupt halt, tightening his grip on her arm. Oh shit. Killcreek was lined up, waiting.

“What are you doing here?” Kahill asked with a slight edge in his tone.

Ace smirked, glancing back at the brothers forming a wall of bikers. With a quick count, there had to be at least thirty, if not more.

“Interesting story coming from this one.” Ace pointed directly at Quinn.

“And you fucking believe it?” Kahill released her arm, only to grab a hold of the back of her neck, winding her hair in his fist and yanking her head. Her shoulders shot up to her ears in an effort to relieve the pinching ache of her scalp. It was useless. Her eyes welled as the pain deepened and she whimpered. “This treacherous cunt is responsible for Knox’s death. Greedy bitch stole your product.”

Ace looked over at Quinn, and her heart skipped as she tried swallowing. Disgust, disdain, and utter hate were all she saw looking back at her.

“Why do you fucking think we’re here?” Ace folded his arms over his chest. “Got wind Rogue was coming. Been waiting fucking years to take my shot. Trey being here is an added bonus. Taking the two of them out pretty much dismantles the Underground, leaving that territory and reign up for grabs.” Ace straightened, stepping forward. “We’ll let you have her.”

Kahill pushed her toward the exit, but Ace and the club matched his steps.

“Gonna need a little assistance from your guys. Have Dante get Rogue and Trey downstairs. We’ll have half our guys block both exits,” Ace said and looked at Quinn. “A true fucking ambush and I want you to watch. It’s only fitting, right? Eye for a motherfucking eye.”

Kahill’s laugh rang in her ears, and he whipped her around, pushing her toward the doors to the small poker room once again. Running wasn’t an option. She’d never make it past his army of men, and if she did, there was Killcreek. Maybe she could make it into the small room, lock the door, and make it to the other side to at least warn Rogue.

It was a ridiculous plan, but one worth trying if it gave him a fighting chance to save himself. It was immediately dashed when two members of Kahill’s security pushed in front of her, opened the door, and walked in. Her heart sank, and she blindly followed inside. Her fate was sealed, but more heartbreaking, so was Rogue’s.

“Fuck,” the guard in front of her muttered, and she glanced up, sucked in a breath, and froze.

It was as if she’d walked into an entirely different room. The tables had been cleared away. There was no longer a smoky haze. It was silent, with an army of men lining the perimeter. They all had their guns drawn, aimed in her direction.

But they aren’t my enemies this time.

****

Guns fucking blazing.

Rogue’s was pointed directly at Kahill, who was a foot behind Quinn. Had she not been so close, Rogue might’ve taken the face shot then and there. That was his rage talking. His revenge was urging him to hold back. A quick kill wasn’t what he wanted nor what Kahill deserved. You, motherfucker, are going to suffer long and painfully.

It was an elaborate setup with many moving parts and players. Everyone had done exactly what was expected and ordered. All but one had been in on the plan.

Quinn stared at him, red-rimmed watery eyes, shrunken so small her shoulders were hunched and hands clasped in front of her. She was riddled with fear. This was his one regret at the moment. In order to execute the perfect plan, there was no room for mistakes. Inevitably, she’d been the only threat to the plan. Had she been given the rundown, she may not have been able to play the part.

With his arm raised and his gun aimed directly at Kahill, he lifted his other hand and curled his finger, calling Quinn. She didn’t hesitate. She rushed forward, slamming into him with her face against his chest and her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Her body shook, and he grasped the back of her neck, holding her tight.

Fuck!

Calming anyone, putting them at ease, was not his forte. This wasn’t his role. It wasn’t his job. He was incapable of being the soothing and comforting component for anyone—except Quinn. He dug his fingers into her hair, caressing her scalp. It had to be sore.

That had been the hardest part of this whole plan. Watching from a distance, knowing he couldn’t step in without threatening the outcome. Twice, Trey had to hold him back as they watched the scene unfold on the monitors. When they were confronted at the back door with Killcreek, it was Oz who physically stepped in front of him, holding Rogue back from storming through when he saw Quinn in pain.

“Killcreek is here,” Quinn whispered through a shaky voice. “They’re coming for you.”

Rogue rarely felt guilt, but the fear in her tone was chipping away at his cold heart. She wasn’t sending a warning on her behalf. Quinn was warning him for his own safety.

“Look at me,” he whispered, gingerly angling her head. Her glassy eyes and red nose only ripped at his heart, clutching it in a strangling hold. He shifted, brushing his hand against her jaw and his thumb over her bottom lip. “No one’s coming for me. Or you.”

Her fingers dug into his waist, and she shook her head frantically.

“Princess,” he said with a growl. Her lashes flickered, and she looked up as if he’d knocked her out of her panic. “Calm the fuck down and breathe.” He leaned closer, whispering, “For me.”

Her chest rose and fell in a rapid motion, but he watched her nod her head, trying to settle. All this effort, this struggle on her end, was for him. He knew it. He brushed his lips against her forehead, glaring at Kahill across the room as Killcreek closed in. A perfectly executed plan.

And one innocent casualty.

“Rogue,” Oz said, gesturing toward the door. It was time to get Quinn out of the room. He angled her head, forcing her to look at him.

“Go play poker.”

She blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Need you to go.”

He sensed she’d put up a fight, but an unlikely source stepped up. Nash walked over, resting his hand on her hip, pulling her away from Rogue.

“Come on, Quinn. I’ll go with you.”

When she tightened her grip, Nash leaned closer, eye to eye with her. “You trust me, right? Feel safe with me because you know I won’t let anything happen to you?”

She slowly nodded, and her hold loosened.

“Then come with me.”

She looked up at Rogue, and he lifted his chin. “Go with Nash.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The room was drowned in silence, and he watched her every move as she inched closer to the door. Nothing would happen until he knew she was out of the line of fire and safe. Nash pushed open the door, and Quinn walked through, disappearing. Nash followed close behind until the door closed.

It was as if a switch had been flipped in him. He slowly turned back to Kahill and his men in the center of the room with all their guns drawn, leaving them as sitting ducks.

Now, let’s have some fucking fun.

Rogue lunged forward, prepared to go at Kahill, but Oz slapped his hand against Rogue’s chest.

“Not yet,” Oz said, walking toward Kahill in the center of the room.

Kahill’s crew was outnumbered ten times over. They might have fought back, but the odds were stacked against them. They wanted an ambush…they got one.

Oz circled around Kahill, whose eyes followed his every move. Kahill held up his hand.

“You don’t want to do this, Oz.”

Oz stopped, his eyes darkening. “I don’t?”

“Think of the retribution.”

Oz glanced over at Rogue. It was always a possibility and something on the table to consider. They didn’t get to where they were today without being methodical, covering all their bases, and most importantly, their tracks. Kahill had underestimated the Underground. And our reach.

“In order for true retribution, those willing to fight for you would have to know who they’re looking for. In this case” —Oz lowered his voice in a chilling tone— “they’ll never find the bodies.”

“My men will look for me.” Kahill blurted, though his voice was shaky.

“They may have.” Oz arched his brow. “Unfortunately, they lost that chance about an hour ago. Ask Ace.”

Kahill jerked his head, and Ace smirked with a shrug. “We specialize in pyrotechnics. It was a hell of a bonfire.”

“Motherf—” Kahill spun around, spit forming at the corner of his mouth. “She fucking killed your brother. You’re siding with the fucking enemy. She’s got your fucking haul.”

“Does she?” Ace sighed, walking deeper into the room.

“This is a fucking set up, Ace. Check the paperwork. It’s her fucking name and signature on it.”

Rogue had heard enough. He was done. He charged toward Kahill, grabbed the back of his neck, and lifted him a foot off the ground before slamming him face-first onto the ground. When Kahill’s men lunged forward, an array of guns cocked, forcing them to a standstill.

Rogue smirked, glancing around at Kahill’s crew. “None of you are getting outta here alive. How you die is up to you. Quick and painless. Or? Long and torturous. You get to decide, motherfuckers.”

Fucking cowards. Every single man on Kahill’s crew took a step back.

“Rogue…” Kahill coughed, blood spurting from his mouth as he rolled over. “You don’t…”

Rogue bent down, shoving his hand against Kahill’s throat. “I don’t what, asshole?”

“She’ll turn on you.” His voice was gurgled as Rogue tightened his hold. Rogue scoffed, applying more pressure. He leaned in closer. If this was Kahill’s last moment, Rogue wanted him knowing the truth.

“She got into our security. She just didn’t tell you.”

Kahill’s eyes bulged, and he gasped for a breath, clawing at Rogue’s arm.

“You get to take your last fucking breath knowing my woman got the fucking best of you. Outsmarted your ass. She fucking beat you, motherfucker.”

Let that be your last thought. Quinn fucking won.