Chapter Twenty-Nine

Things had settled. Life had become quiet. Kind of. Silence would never come to fruition, but there was something comforting about that. No white noise. No time left to get lost in thoughts. Sometimes that was a good thing.

The SUV pulled into the empty parking lot of the X-Lounge. It was a strange sight, seeing the club in daylight hours. It almost looked welcoming. She’d been summoned, but the reason hadn’t been established yet. When Nash called asking her to come in, she was slightly hesitant. Surprisingly, her first instinct was to immediately go to Rogue. No secrets. That was what they’d agreed on. Relationships didn’t last without trust and communication. However, the request came from Oz, with a note relayed from Nash.

It said not to tell Rogue.

“ It’s for you, not Rogue. Oz asked that you trust him on this. ”

She walked through the parking lot and up to the back door. It opened before she breached the vestibule. The man widened the door without saying a word. She’d seen him before but hadn’t had a formal introduction.

“Thank you.”

He nodded but remained silent. Oz’s security was very different from Rogue and Trey’s. There wasn’t a camaraderie. They were more like soldiers. Quinn slipped past them, and took the elevator up to the balcony. Once the doors opened, she walked toward the main area. She lifted her hand in a short wave.

“Hi, Nash.”

His hardened features softened, and the corner of his mouth slightly lifted. He bowed his head. “Quinn.”

Quinn wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but seeing Sal and Oz at the corner table was a surprise. Some people might’ve had reservations, considering their last threesome interaction. But that’d been different. Things had changed.

“Hi, Sal,” she said, smiling over at the older man as he turned and stood.

“Hello, honey.” Sal took her in for a hug, and Quinn completely gave in.

Quinn embraced everything Sal had to offer. Kindness, humor and the fatherly vibe, she’d craved for so many years.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Like brand new.”

“I thought I was just seeing Oz.” She chuckled, eyeing Rogue’s brother. Much like most of their interactions, he was calm, stoic, and unsmiling.

“I thought I’d join you.” Sal winked and gestured to the seat beside him. Quinn sat down, shifting in her chair and subtly peeking at Oz. He was staring directly at her. It was unnerving, to say the least. They may have come to a mutual understanding, but he hadn’t fully warmed up to her yet.

“Hi,” she said, and her voice cracked.

Oz simply nodded. “Quinn.”

It would take time to build a relationship with him. She’d wait. While she’d felt the warmth from Sal and a bit from Nash, the tension with Oz was still evident.

“This is like déjà vu.” She chuckled nervously. “Hope Killcreek won’t be making an appearance.”

Sal snickered, but Oz remained silent.

“So?” Quinn smiled, shifting her gaze between Sal and Oz. “What’s the big secret?”

Her main focus was on Sal. But when he glanced at Oz, she followed his stare. Much like any other time, his gaze gave nothing away. The man was impossible to read with his stone-cold face, but still, her gaze lingered. Something was different. Quinn just couldn’t figure out what. She was still staring at Oz’s profile when Sal called her name.

Quinn glanced next to her, and Sal inched a bit closer, smiling. Though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“We’ve gotten some news,” Sal said and gave a careless shrug. “We wanted to share it with you.”

“Okay.”

Her curiosity had gotten the best of her. News to share with her? There was so much secretiveness, she looked between both men, asking the most obvious question.

“Why isn’t Rogue here?”

Sal flattened his lips, offering a smile. “This isn’t about Rogue. It’s about you. Oz and I thought it would be best to discuss it with you first and let you decide if you want to share it with Rogue.”

What? Of course, she’d share it with him.

What’s going on?

She swallowed the lump in her throat, keeping her gaze locked on Sal.

“Okay.”

He reached out, grasping her hand in a tight squeeze. “As I said, we’ve gotten some information. It seems that two of your brothers were granted parole. They’re set to be released in the next few weeks.”

What? The last she’d heard, her father and all three brothers had been sentenced to over twenty years. Even on good behavior, they’d have to serve at least twelve years.

Quinn shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“We have confirmation,” Sal said.

How was this possible? She furrowed her brows, staring down at the table.

“Oh.” She glanced up at Sal, willing the words, but couldn’t form a sentence. It was as if Sal knew what she was asking.

“They’re being paroled. Good behavior.”

Quinn widened her eyes and scoffed. “That’s a first.”

She immediately clamped her lips, avoiding Sal’s stare. The last thing she was willing to do was go into detail about her past with anyone but especially Oz and Sal. Maybe somewhere down the road, she’d open up to Rogue. But for now, she kept it locked and hidden.

Oz tossed a manilla folder on the table. The edge of a page slipped out, revealing what it referenced. “Pulled up your file. Read it.”

I don’t need to. Quinn was aware of what was in the thick folder. She’d never been arrested or even gotten a ticket. But her file was large.

Abuse wasn’t always easy to identify, especially for the one on the receiving end. A push, a shove, and a slap. A claim that it was merely horsing around. Her father loved that term and used it often when she’d fallen victim to one of her brothers' angry outbursts. Or one of her father’s. Cuts heal, bruises fade. Scars were harder to conceal but not impossible.

“A lot of calls and reports made on your behalf.” Sal’s voice was warm and comforting but Quinn was in full denial mode.

She swallowed the knot in her throat, whispering, “A few times.”

“Thirty-five.” Oz cocked his brow and gestured to the table. “You can read it for yourself.”

Quinn shook her head. “I d-don’t…”

“Honey.” Sal smiled and lifted his chin. “Have a look.”

Sal reached across the table, grabbing the folder and gently forced it into Quinn’s hand.

“Open it,” Sal whispered.

I don’t need to read it, Sal. I lived it . But…

Quinn bit her lip, and her shaky hand opened the folder. It was a copy of a lined paper statement dating back to when she was six. The file was thick and included photos. It was strange to look at herself through the years and not recognize the little girl in the pictures. It was as if she was looking at someone else. And my heart is breaking for that little girl.

“Cops never found any evidence. I find that strange. Unless” —Oz paused— “they were on his payroll.”

“They were,” she whispered, staring down at an especially brutal photo. She couldn’t have been more than eleven, and her eye was swollen shut. It took weeks to finally heal.

But that was her past.

“I got my revenge.” Quinn whispered. While she’d never admitted it to anyone, Quinn was the sole reason they were currently incarcerated. And she had not an ounce of regret.

Oz slowly nodded and shared a look with Sal.

“Yes, I know. Very impressive. However, some might say the punishment didn’t fit the crime.”

Sal shifted his chair closer to Quinn’s and his leg bumped up against hers.

“You know,” Sal said. “People die in prison every day.”

What? She widened her eyes and darted her gaze between both men. Were they offering her what she thought they were?

“No,” Quinn blurted, shaking her head.

I already have enough blood on my hands. Maybe they deserved it. Maybe society would be better without them in it. But that wasn’t her decision to make.

“Alright,” Oz said, though it wasn’t very convincing.

Quinn wouldn’t argue or go to bat for her father and brothers. They didn’t deserve it. But she wouldn’t play a part in their deaths either.

“Can I go?”

“Of course, honey,” Sal said, grabbing her hand in a tight squeeze and standing to guide her toward the elevator. Quinn was about to walk out when she turned to Oz, who was still seated in his chair. His eyes were locked on her.

“Don’t tell Rogue.” She swallowed, a knot in her throat.

Oz gave a curt nod, but she wasn’t done.

“Or Trey.”

Oz glanced at Sal, and for a brief second, she was aware of a silent conversation she hadn’t been privy to. She darted her gaze between both men but couldn’t understand the nature of it.

“Of course, honey,” Sal said. “This will stay between the three of us.”

Quinn forced a smile and walked out and down the hall with a feeling of unease.

I’m missing something.

****

This meeting was one he’d been waiting on for the last six hours. Unbeknownst to Quinn, this had been an elaborate set up. They were offering her a gift and taking Rogue out of the equation. Quinn may have been able to put her past behind her, but he couldn’t. Rogue wanted revenge.

He and Trey walked into Oz’s office, fixed a drink, and sat on the couch across from his brother.

“So.” Rogue spread his arms. “What’s the fucking verdict?” He already knew.

“She said no.”

Rogue smirked, shaking his head. Of course she did. That’s not who Quinn was. Forgiveness was where she’d go, not revenge.

“She also asked that we don’t tell you.” Oz paused. “Or Trey.”

Rogue glanced over at Trey, who raised his brows and shrugged. It was no surprise to either of them that Quinn would make that request, especially knowing there were no secrets between the two of them. It was interesting how well she knew them both in such a short time.

Rogue respected her decision. He just didn’t agree with it. Nor would he accept it. The Underground had connections everywhere. Including, the prison where Quinn’s father and brothers were serving time.

“You make the plan?”

Oz nodded. “It’ll happen at the stroke of midnight.”

Rogue laughed. “Well, that sounds like a fucking fairytale.”

“Thought you’d like that.”

I do.

Revenge came in all forms. Quinn had gotten hers. Now, Rogue would get his own.

Nobody makes my woman suffer, and lives to talk about it.