Chapter Five

Don’t pass out. Please don’t pass out.

It was like having an out-of-body experience. The weight of her body had Quinn rocking from side to side. She was trying to keep her balance. Her head was throbbing yet somehow felt light. She could barely focus on anything in the room other than her pain. At least she was covered up. It was an unexpected and much-appreciated kind gesture.

Quinn was only mildly aware of Gavin and his cohort being led past her and into the hallway. Where are they going?

Jared pulled out a knife, and on instinct, she backed up, stepping into the man behind her. Trey grabbed her forearms, steadying her.

“He’s going to remove the bindings. Just keep still.”

Quinn slowly nodded and watched as Jared carefully cut through the plastic. The relief she felt was short-lived. The throbbing pain immediately followed, along with the bleeding. When she lifted her wrists, seeing the blood, her stomach turned, and a wave of nausea washed over her. What’s worse, passing out or throwing up?

Doc, who appeared to be the oldest member of the security team, pushed his way in front of Quinn and immediately started wrapping her wrists with a blue fabric. A curtain? What the heck is happening?

“It’ll stop the bleeding.” Doc glanced over her shoulder. “For now.”

Quinn had no idea who he was talking to. She didn’t care as long as she didn’t have to look at the gnarly cuts.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

Doc’s hand stilled, and he gave a sharp nod. “Would you like my medical assessment, sir?”

Quinn peeked up, looking a few feet away. Rogue scoffed, pacing around the room like a caged animal. He tossed his hands in the air. “Why the fuck not.”

“She needs medical treatment.”

Rogue glanced down at her, and Quinn immediately averted her eyes. There was a stretch of silence before she heard the most shocking question.

“You got the shit to do it?”

What? Why was he going to help her if he just intended to kill her? Rogue was known for being unpredictable, but that made absolutely no sense. She peered over where he stood in the center of the small living room. He looked like a powerful giant commanding the room.

“Got the stuff to treat it at my place. But it’s pretty deep,” Doc said.

Rogue shifted his gaze to her, and she bit her lip, trying to follow the conversation. Everything in her mind was telling her to look away again. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was challenging him. But somehow, much like the first time she’d seen him, she was entranced with his dark gaze. She swallowed the lump in her throat and flattened her lips. There was something different about the way his eyes locked on her. They lacked the contempt and rage she’d seen at the warehouse.

“Uh, Rogue.” Dillon’s voice was shaky at best. Quinn shifted her gaze across the room, zeroing in on Dillon. She hadn’t realized he was still in the room. Her focus had been solely on Rogue and the Underground.

Rogue groaned. “Ah fuck, what?”

“I can give you the twenty-five grand for her.”

Wait, what? The bounty? Quinn jerked her head. It was a bad move. A shooting pain ripped through her neck, and she winced. Between the ache in her body, the throbbing in her head, and the painful cuts covering her face, chest, and hands, it was hard to follow what was happening around her. But she tried.

“You want to buy her from me?” Rogue laughed without an ounce of humor. “You don’t have that kind of cash.”

“I do…” Dillon said.

You do?

“No motherfucker, you don’t.” Rogue spread his arms out and circled around. “You don’t have that kinda green lying around to spend on a runner . How fucking stupid do you think I am? Tell me, ’cause I gotta fucking know.”

Dillon held up his hands, shaking his head. “Didn’t mean any disrespect, Rogue. Just trying to help.”

“Help who?” Rogue pointed at Quinn. “Her?”

Dillon looked over at Quinn. “Well, yeah.”

Really? Quinn hadn’t expected anything from Dillon. Nevertheless, she hoped he could help her work out a deal to pay off the debt. But his offer made no sense. Why would he pay off her debt?

“Why?” Rogue snapped and charged toward Dillon, getting up in his face. Dillon’s eyes widened, and he backed up against the wall. “Tell me why a dealer is willing to shell out twenty-five fucking grand for a runner who ain’t even good at her job?”

Because that’s not my job. Though she wouldn’t be offering that nugget of information. Quinn clamped her lips, watching the scene unfold. It was interesting. It wasn’t so much Rogue questioning the reasoning. It was his mocking tone when he said runner . It was as if he knew that wasn’t her job. He was baiting Dillon into the truth, and for a second, she thought he’d crack.

“You fucking her?”

Quinn flinched and twisted her lips at the question. It was crass and rude.

“No,” Dillon said.

Rogue smirked. “She got shit on you?”

Dillon shook his head, and when Rogue looked over at her, she immediately dropped her gaze to the floor. Technically, she didn’t have anything to hold over Dillon’s head. If anything, it was the other way around. But Dillon had originally played a part. Either of them turning on each other would implicate the other. For this, Quinn and Dillon were on the same page. Admit to nothing.

“Then make it fucking make sense to me.” Rogue’s sharp retort echoed through the room.

“I’m just trying to help out.”

“Well, that’s fucking gentlemanly.” Rogue cupped his mouth and sighed, walking over to her. Her back straightened, and her stomach dropped. Even three feet away, he was too close.

“I’m feeling generous, so I’m gonna give you a fucking choice. You want him to pay off your debt?”

Is this a trick question? While most people saw her as na?ve, clueless, and possibly stupid, she didn’t get the credit she deserved. She was well aware any offer to pay her debt would come with strings attached—none that would work in her favor.

She swallowed the knot in her throat. “Is that my only option?”

“What the…” Rogue knitted his brows, and his jaw squared. “You want alternatives?”

“I just mean…” Quinn cleared her throat, waving her hand, “I can pay you directly.”

“With what? Your two grand? Other than that, you ain’t got shit to your name. How the fuck am I supposed to get paid?” Rogue snorted. “You want a fucking payment plan?”

Yes? Quinn clamped her lips and peered over at Dillon.

“Don’t fucking look at him.” Rogue charged forward, stopped a few inches in front of her, and growled. “Look at me.”

Quinn flinched, immediately shifting her gaze to Rogue. He was such a force. It was as if the temperature shifted when he walked into a room. Tensions rose along with the heat of her body, though that had nothing to do with the current situation but her reaction to Rogue’s presence. It was the worst time to acknowledge it, and she could chalk it up to her injuries and probable concussion. It was the only possible explanation for everything she was feeling. She should’ve been solely focused on her fate and livelihood. Her imminent situation. Certainly not how his dark gaze heated and the corner of his eyes crinkled, his strong jaw line accentuated his sculpted face, and the way his forehead wrinkled. It shouldn’t have been sexy or inviting. But it is, and clearly, I’m delirious.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.

Rogue cocked his head. “For what?”

For the situation, for Clay and Glenn’s actions, and for her unknowing part in it. For the predicament she found herself in and his missing money. For her inability to look away from him and only wanting to get closer. It was everything racing through her mind. But nothing she was willing to say. Instead, her answer encompassed it all.

“Everything,” she mumbled.

Rogue’s stare hardened, and he stepped closer. They were practically touching. Her heartbeat quickened, and a shiver shot through her spine. She could almost feel the heat radiating off his body. Or is it from mine?

“Gonna ask one last time. You take my money?”

“No, sir.” Quinn gulped. “I swear.”

His lips twitched slightly. It was a strange sight. It softened him, but only briefly. She wasn’t a fool enough to think he’d show her any leniency or believe her. It was probably just a spasm. Or was it?

“Say it again.” He growled, but his tone was low, as if only for her ears.

What the hell is happening? It almost felt like a fucked-up, deranged, intimate moment between the two of them.

“Yes, sir?” she whispered.

Rogue smirked and straightened to full height, towering over her small frame. She kept her eyes locked on him. Then, it seemed as if a switch had been flicked. Their fleeting moment was gone.

“You want another option? I’ll give you one.” Rogue’s glare darkened, and she trembled. “You let Dillon pay the twenty-five, or you can pay it yourself.”

Perfect!

“Pay it myself,” Quinn blurted.

The corner of Rogue’s mouth hiked, and he cocked his head slightly.

Uh-oh.

“You should’ve let me finish. You can pay it yourself by working for me.”

What? Oh shit, no!

She shook her head with too much force. Her adrenaline was too high, and it seemed she was well on her way to a disastrous crash. She had an unpleasant surge of nausea roll through her belly. She threw out her arm, her hand landing on his chest.

“Take your fucking hand off me.” Rogue’s voice echoed off the wall, and she fisted his shirt. It was the wrong move. Quinn couldn’t help herself. Her vision was blurry, and her body was getting hot. She could feel the beads of sweat slowly forming on her forehead and chest. It was all the signs of the inevitable.

“I don’t want to throw up on you.” She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She slowly loosened her grip but kept her hand on his chest. At this point, it was self-preservation. Quinn feared if she let go, she’d drop to the ground. The room was spinning, and there was an annoying hum in her ears.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Rogue snapped, but his voice sounded so far away. His venomous tone was a contradiction to his cool hands on her neck. It was beyond soothing. She just needed the coolness to combat the heat prickling through her skin. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.

“She’s about ten seconds from passing out.”

Quinn couldn’t be sure who said it, Doc or Trey, but whoever did was overestimating.

Three. Two. One.

Lights out.

****

Jesus Fucking Christ.

Her hand slipped away from his chest, he released his hold over her neck, and she fell backward directly into Doc’s ready arms. Rogue resisted the urge to hold onto her. Doc slowly laid her down. Rogue’s lips twisted as her head hit the carpet. In its prime it would have been considered a blue hue. Now? It resembled a stained, green, worn-out mess. Disgusting was an understatement. He shouldn’t have cared. And I fucking don’t!

Are you sure about that?

Rogue rolled his neck and balled his fists, still feeling the clammy heat from her skin in his palms. Fuck! He immediately went on the defense in his mind. This woman was nothing to him. A fucking stranger. Yet another indebted to him. Rationalizing the situation to suit him should’ve done the trick to put him back on course. And it did. Until he looked down at her.

Her eyes were still closed, but she groggily turned her cheek to the carpet. He ground his teeth, forcing himself to stay back. It was a feat, to say the least. Rogue had no idea what had come over him, but he felt an incessant need to get her off the dirty floor. Fuck!

“Put a fucking blanket or something under her face. Catch a fucking disease just breathing in this hellhole. Can’t imagine the shit embedded in that floor.” Rogue turned his back to Quinn, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. He scanned the room. He needed a distraction from her . He found it. How the fuck do people live like this?

It was ironic and hypocritical. This house was a hundred times better than any of the houses that Rogue lived in when he was younger. It may be part of his past, but there were some things he’d never forget. The scent of mold, vomit, and blood, decaying flesh. That had always been a standout. It had been ingrained in his senses.

Rogue watched as Trey crossed the room, grabbed a blanket from the chair in the corner of the room, and walked back toward Quinn.

“Will this do, or would you like us to get her a pillow?” Trey’s tone may have come off as even, but Rogue heard the distinct taunting.

He took a deep drag from his cigarette, scowling at Trey. It had no effect on his partner. There were very few people that Rogue couldn’t intimidate, but Trey was one of them.

“The fucking poster boy for the safety of women? You lose that sense of compassion?” Rogue was doing his own taunting now, trying to shift the focus.

Trey smiled and glanced down at Quinn before turning to Rogue. “I didn’t lose mine. I’m just unfamiliar with yours. It doesn’t happen often.”

As much as he would’ve liked to argue, Rogue couldn’t. He was the least compassionate and forgiving man he knew, possibly in existence. Still, he didn’t enjoy anything thrown in his face.

Rogue glared at Trey, challenging him to take it further. Trey didn’t. He turned, and Rogue caught the corner of his mouth hiking up. Fucking asshole . Rogue circled around the coffee table, stopping in front of Dillon. He’d remained in his spot, pressed against the wall. Rogue towered over him, taking a deep drag of smoke and spitefully blowing it in Dillon’s face. He’d give credit when it was due—Dillon didn’t even flinch.

“Twenty-five grand. For her.” It wasn’t posed as a question, but Dillon knew better than to play stupid. After the beating he’d already taken, he was smart enough to not test Rogue’s patience. I don’t have any, motherfucker.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his chest rose. “I spoke to an associate of mine and—”

“Who?” Rogue snapped.

Dillon hesitated.

“If you don’t give me a name, then I’m not gonna do the courtesy of putting one on your fucking headstone.”

Dillon paled, pressing his back against the wall. It created a small gap, which Rogue closed by stepping closer. Rogue gripped his throat and tightened.

“Who?”

“Kahill.”

I know, motherfucker.

“Why the fuck does he care about your runner?” Rogue scowled. “Or is she more than a runner?”

Dillon gargled as he tightened his hold. Rogue could end Dillon in less than a minute, get rid of the body, and no one would ever find him. Rogue didn’t doubt that not many would come looking for him aside from his customers. They’d easily find another source. But…

Rogue let go, taking joy in watching Dillon fall against the wall and gasp for breath. He stalked over to Trey, peering over at Jared, who stood a few feet away.

“Those two assholes downstairs? You take care of them. Do it here, clean up, and take them to the property off forty-six.”

“Yes, sir.” Jared nodded and started across the room.

“Use the silencer,” Rogue ordered and turned to Dillon. “I want you and all your assholes outta here for the next twenty-four hours. If I hear that you came back a fucking second early, I’ll personally slice all your throats. You fucking understand me?”

“Yeah, Rogue. Twenty-four hours.”

Rogue glanced down at Quinn and gestured for Doc to pick her up. When she was in his arms, he glanced up.

“I suggest dropping her off at the hospital,” Trey said.

Rogue felt an immense surge of possession rolling through his blood. He rolled his neck, avoiding Trey’s stare.

“No,” Rogue said, eyeing her in Doc’s arms. “Take her to the club. Head to your place and get what you need. And fix her.”

It was rare for anyone on his team to give any type of pushback, but clearly Doc was confused with his orders. Trey sidled up next to Rogue, giving his back to the men.

“Having her discreetly dropped off is the best option.”

Rogue smiled. “Not for me. Told you I want her, and now I got her.”

And she’s not going anywhere.

Rogue glanced over at Doc and lifted his chin. “Go. Now.”

Doc didn’t hesitate and walked out the door with Quinn in his arms.

“Fuck.” Trey’s voice was low. Rogue started to the door with Trey by his side and two members of security at their backs.

“Uh, Rogue?”

Both Rogue and Trey looked back at Dillon. He was still in the corner of his living room with his back pressed against the wall. Pussy!

“What about Quinn?”

Rogue smirked. “You tell Kahill if he wants to make an offer, he needs to call me.”

Rogue walked out the door, glancing over at the car parked behind his.

“Do you really think this is the best decision? You heard her, and I know you believe it. She had nothing to do with lifting the cash. Dillon gave us the ten for the deal. It’s over. We should cut her loose.”

Rogue ignored Trey.

“She’s been on the run for days, and for what, Rogue? Your bounty. We don’t need her.”

Rogue laughed. “You’re getting soft, Trey.”

Trey shrugged. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m just being fair to someone who got caught up in a life she knows nothing about. Why are you doing this, Rogue?”

Rogue stopped, turning to Trey. “Because Kahill wants to drop twenty-five grand on her. She’s valuable to him, and I want to know why. I want to know what makes her so damn fucking special to him.”

Trey raised his brows. “Yeah? That’s your reasoning?”

What the fuck?

“Yeah, Trey!”

Trey smirked and cupped his mouth. He shook his head, looking across the yard.

“What?” Rogue spread out his arms, narrowing his gaze. “You don’t wanna know?”

Trey turned to Rogue with a small smile playing on his lips.

“I’m more curious to know why she’s so damn fucking special ” —Trey paused, arching his brow— “to you.”

Fuck!