Chapter Nine

“I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.”

Sloane swept the curtain to the side, gesturing for Quinn to walk through. “I’m always in trouble. Well, not trouble exactly, but Rogue can only tolerate me for about” —she puckered her lips and looked up at the ceiling— “ten minutes. Thirteen on a good day.”

Quinn snorted. “He has those?”

Sloane clamped her lips, and for a brief second Quinn wished she could retract what she’d just said. Insulting or poking fun at Rogue would not work in her favor. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize until Sloane burst out laughing.

It was contagious, and Quinn cracked a smile.

“They’re few and far between. Best thing to do with Rogue is not to take anything personally. Rogue’s just” —Sloane shrugged with a small sigh— “Rogue.”

They started down the hall. It was the same one she’d been in last night and the day before. Security was lined up on either side along the wall closest to the door at the end of the hall. It was a testament to how powerful Trey and Rogue were.

They were just about to turn the corner when a woman semi-collided into Sloane. They both held out their hands and gripped each other’s arms. Quinn recognized the other woman immediately. It was the girl she’d drawn. Both Sloane and the woman laughed.

“Sorry, Dahl,” Sloane said.

“No worries.” The woman glanced over at Quinn, smiling. “Hi.”

Before Quinn could greet her, Sloane butted in. “Oh, Dahlia, this is Quinn. She just started.” Sloane turned to Quinn and waved her hand at Dahlia. “And Quinn, this is Dahlia. We work in the office together.” Sloane took a breath and widened her eyes. “And she’s Trey’s girlfriend. Aren’t they the cutest couple?”

Cute? That was an understatement. Gorgeous, beautiful, sexy. Any of those would have been a better, more accurate description, but Quinn kept her thoughts to herself and simply nodded.

Dahlia giggled, shook her head, and offered her hand, which Quinn promptly shook. She was about to pull away, but Dahlia tightened her grip, yanking Quinn forward.

“Quinn? The artist, right?”

The artist? What, who me?

“You drew my picture.”

Oh, right! Now, it was all making sense.

“Yes.”

Dahlia pulled her in for a hug, and Quinn froze. It didn’t stop Dahlia from tightening her hold before she finally released Quinn. Sort of. Dahlia grasped her hand.

“I love it.”

You do?

Quinn stilled, staring back at Dahlia. Compliments were so few and far between for Quinn. She wasn’t equipped to accept them properly. Dahlia could’ve just said it to be kind, but there was something so genuine in her excitement. It feels real.

“You drew the picture, Quinn?” Sloane blurted, coming into her space.

Quinn nodded, and Sloane widened her eyes. “Oh wow, that’s amazing. I had no idea you were the artist.”

Artist.

Quinn shyly shrugged, overwhelmed with not only the attention but the praise. So this is what it’s like?

“Sloane,” Jared said, and Sloane immediately leaned past Quinn and waved. “Sorry, Jared.” She turned to Dahlia. “We have to go.”

Dahlia stepped aside, smiling. Sloane grabbed Quinn’s arm, and they started down the hall until Dahlia called Quinn’s name.

“You didn’t sign it.”

Quinn knitted her brows.

Dahlia laughed. “The drawing. My friend Trini’s daughter is a budding artist, and she says all artists sign their work. If I bring it in tomorrow, can you sign it?”

My signature? This was all too surreal. Dahlia was acting as if Quinn’s drawing was something special. It is to her. Quinn nodded. It was shaky and awkward, but Dahlia didn’t seem to notice. Her smile brightened, and she turned, walking away.

“Sloane.” There was a slight bite to Jared’s tone.

Both Quinn and Sloane glanced over their shoulders to the opposite end of the hall. Jared stood in front of Rogue’s office door. Sloane pointed in the direction Dahlia had come from.

“I’m taking her to Trey’s office.”

Jared held up his hand and pointed in the opposite direction.

“She’s going to Rogue’s.”

“Really?”

Jared lifted his brows, which must have been universal for “yes” because Sloane nodded and turned, leading them down to the other end of the hallway.

“You seem surprised I’m going to Rogue’s office.”

“Well, it’s not the norm. Trey usually” —she paused— “actually, always handles the club matters.”

That explained it, considering this wasn’t a club matter. Sloane stopped at the door and knocked. Quinn eyed the looming security staff. It was strange that they remained staring straight ahead.

Sloane grabbed the knob but turned back to Quinn.

“You can say no, but…umm…”

Say no to what? Or who? Rogue? Highly unlikely, Sloane. Quinn was just about to ask, but Sloane inched closer.

“Can you draw my picture?”

Quinn wasn’t expecting that. Her mouth fell open, and she widened her eyes. It was the wrong reaction and apparently confusing to Sloane who immediately shook her head and started to back away from the door.

“You don’t have to.” Sloane’s nervous laugh, combined with her careless shrug, seemed to be a front. “I’ve heard artists base their work off of muses, so I totally understand. Forget I asked.”

What? Quinn’s apprehension had nothing to do with muses and everything to do with someone wanting her drawings. Quinn reached out, grabbing Sloane’s wrist.

“I would love to draw your picture.”

Sloane blinked. “Really?”

Yes, really!

Quinn smiled with a nod. “I can get started tonight.”

Sloane parted her lips, but she never got to say a word. They were interrupted.

“Get her the fuck in here.”

Sloane looked back, offering a nervous smile. “Good luck.”

Quinn forced a smile and sucked in a deep breath as she walked inside the familiar office. He was across the room with the phone to his ear.

“Monday, motherfucker! And if I have to tell you again, I’m gonna show up at that fucking job. You want that?” Rogue white-knuckled the phone, and his lips twisted. “No, you don’t fucking want that.” He tossed the phone on his desk, turning on her.

“Where the fuck were you?”

She blinked, scanning the room. She was learning quickly that any hesitation was the wrong move with Rogue.

“I stopped at Starr’s for dinner.”

His lips twisted. “That place is a fucking shithole that should’ve been condemned years ago.”

It might’ve been an accurate description, but… “They make a really good cheeseburger.”

Rogue’s features tightened, and his gaze darkened. That was not the right answer. She swiftly raised her bag in hopes of changing the subject.

“I got some new clothes like you told me.”

His brows furrowed, and he glanced down at the bag clutched in her hand.

“Where?”

“The thrift store on Main Street.”

“Three hundred fucking dollars, and you’re buying used shit?”

Technically, he was right. It had been owned previously, but it was like the old saying, one person’s trash is another person’s treasure. From the way his lips twisted in a disgusted sneer, she wasn’t sure he’d be familiar with that phrase or appreciate it. She was going to refrain from sharing it with him.

“It’s in good shape and good quality.”

“What the hell do you know about good quality?”

This was where she questioned her sanity being attracted to a man who could be so degrading and cruel. She bowed her head, staring down at the floor.

“Look at me!” he shouted, and she peered up. “Now, fucking answer me.”

Quinn shrugged. “It looks new and a third of the price of anything I’d buy at the stores. Spending lots of money on clothes just doesn’t make sense to me.” Quinn glanced down at his suit. “No offense.”

Rogue clearly spent a lot of money on his wardrobe. She wouldn’t have been surprised if one suit cost thousands. But that’s not me. She rocked back on her heels, avoiding his stare.

“Why the fuck are you mopping floors?”

“What?”

“Mopping floors!” he snapped.

“I’m trying to pay you back.”

His jaw squared. “You do what I fucking tell you.”

She snorted. “But you haven’t told me yet.”

Wrong answer, Quinn.

“I don’t work on your fucking schedule.”

“I know,” she blurted and held her hands up. “I’m trying to be proactive, Rogue.”

He folded his arms, silent for a brief second. “Did I tell you to be proactive?”

“No.” She sighed.

“Then get your ass back to the apartment, and you fucking wait until I’ve decided how you’ll work off your fucking debt. You understand?”

She gave a curt nod, feeling utterly defeated. It was beyond frustrating. All she wanted was to pay off her debt, and she couldn’t do that without working. Why was he standing in the way? And now she was being exiled to the apartments. Alone. If Rogue was trying to punish her, he was doing an excellent job.

Human contact had been fun while it lasted.

“Speak!”

What’s the point?

This time, she didn’t even flinch. “I understand.”

Quinn drew in a breath, turned toward the door, and started forward.

“Get back here.”

Oh my God, this man is exhausting.

She sighed and walked over to Rogue, stopping a few feet away. He closed the gap to a foot away and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. His gaze scanned her face.

“Why the hell are you pouting like a two year old?”

“I’m not.” Yes, I am.

“The fuck you aren’t.”

She shook her head slightly until his hold tightened, and he growled. “Tell. Me.”

At this point, what did she have to lose? Her life had been flipped upside down, stomped on, and she was heading in a downward spiral. There wasn’t much reason to hold onto her dignity.

“I’m all alone.”

His brows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“At the apartment. I don’t have anyone to talk to or see. I’m the only person on my floor. Even in the elevator no one will talk to me.” She swallowed the knot in her throat. She was too overcome with emotion when saying it out loud. It was an admission she was struggling with.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Rogue muttered, clearly annoyed.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t like being alone. The alienation is wearing me down.” She glanced up at Rogue, expecting a sneer or disgust. Instead, his gaze softened slightly as his thumb brushed her cheek and skimmed over her jaw. What’s happening? This was unlike any other interaction she’d had with him. It felt intimate. His eyes scanned her face and he stepped forward, his hand caressing over her skin in a gentle touch. It was comforting. It was a side to Rogue she didn’t think existed. As if he read her thoughts, he dropped his hand to his side, and scowled.

He’s back to hating me. She forced a shaky smile and stepped back, hooking her thumb over her shoulder toward the door.

“I’ll go back to the Tower.”

Quinn only made it two steps when his hand pressed against her stomach, halting further movement. She glanced down and sucked in a breath. It was crazy to read into anything this man did. Rogue was unpredictable. His fingers dug into her belly, sending a heated tremble over her skin. She shouldn’t have this type of reaction to a man like him. She slowly peered up and he lifted his chin.

“Sit down,” his deep, graveled voice rumbled.

Okay.

****

This is a fucking first.

Rogue poured himself a drink and walked over to the seating area. He sat in the chair across from her. Quinn looked just as surprised as he felt. Rogue had no idea what’d come over him. Or maybe he did. He just wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. His unrelenting desire and obsession with her wasn’t something he was comfortable with. In fact, it was pissing him off. But it was explainable. It was physical. Human nature. Rogue was attracted to her. Simple as that. But this was something different. Her expressed loneliness and obvious sadness were gnawing at a part of him he’d locked down years ago—his heart.

“This offer expires in thirty minutes, so if I were you, I’d get to fucking talking.” He sipped his drink.

Her mouth fell open, and she muttered. “What?”

“Just said you’re fucking lonely, right? Got no one to talk to?” He raised his brows, and she promptly nodded. “Then fucking talk.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward. “To you?”

Quinn may have been twenty-six, but she was showing her innocence. In fairness to her, Rogue was well aware of his reputation, which wasn’t known for heart-to-heart conversations. There were only a handful of people he ever took an interest in beyond business. And it looks like you’re one of them, Princess.

Rogue looked from one end of the room to the other. “You see anyone else in the room?”

The corners of her mouth curled, and she shook her head.

“Then, fucking talk.”

“But I don’t know what to talk about with you.”

“I don’t give a fuck, so just talk.”

He furrowed his brows, watching a smile emerge, and she scooted to the edge of the sofa. “Can I ask you questions?”

“You want to talk about me? That’s how you’re gonna spend your time?”

She smiled and nodded.

Rogue sighed. “Why the fuck not.”

He expected questions that most people would ask if given the opportunity. A more in-depth knowledge of the Underground or deals with other illegal entities and contacts. Everyone was fascinated by the inner workings of the Underground. He wouldn’t answer anything, but he was curious where she’d begin her interrogation.

“Have you always been like this?”

Rogue arched his brow. “Like what?”

She shrugged and clasped her hands, looking at him as if inspecting. “Confident, in charge, not afraid of anyone. This powerful.”

Is that how you see me, Princess? Rogue liked that. But he wouldn’t show it.

“Yeah.”

She slowly nodded, losing her smile. “I’ve always been like this, too. Na?ve, a little weak, and a horrible judge of character. I think I put too much faith into other people and believing they’ll do the right thing.”

Rogue snorted. “I’d say that’s fucking accurate considering your current position.”

“Yeah.” She sighed and shifted on the couch, then stood. “Well, I appreciate you…”

Where the fuck did she think she was going? Much to his surprise, Rogue was invested in this conversation. He wanted more. Quinn wasn’t going anywhere. He pointed to the couch.

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit your ass down. You got twenty-five minutes left.”

Quinn shrugged, smiling nervously. “I don’t want to waste any more of your time.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done, trust me.”

She slowly sat and giggled. “I have no doubt of that.”

Rogue steeled his features and sipped his drink, keeping his eyes locked on her.

“You just say whatever is on your mind, don’t you?”

Rogue cocked his brow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe to not hurt someone’s feelings.”

Fuck that!

“Other people’s sensitivities and weaknesses aren’t my problems. They’re theirs.”

“That’s an interesting way of thinking. Most people worry about offending others.”

Rogue scoffed. “I’m not most people.”

There was a long stretch of silence. She clasped her hands on her lap, twisting her fingers. He noticed she did that a lot. A nervous tick, he assumed.

“What else do you wanna know?”

“Umm…” She bit her bottom lip and glanced up at the ceiling. “Do you have any pets?”

What the fuck? This woman was all over the place with her line of questioning.

“This is seriously the shit you want to know?”

Her cheeks pinkened. “It’s a good way to get to know you.”

Fuck. He shifted in his seat. No one ever asked Rogue personal questions. They knew better than to dig into his life. Not her.

“No, I don’t have fucking pets. What else?”

“You can ask me stuff if you want to.”

“I know everything I need to know.”

She flattened her lips and looked down at the floor. Why the fuck did he care about this woman and her feelings? It was rare that Rogue gave a fleeting consideration to anyone else. Fuck me...fine!

“You got any fucking pets?”

She peeked up through her bangs. “No. My dad was allergic. Well, I mean, that’s what he said, but I have my doubts. He dated this woman for a short while, and she always had her little dog with her. He never seemed to have an issue, so…”

“He fed ya shit ’cause he didn’t want animals.”

“Exactly. But umm…” She scooted to the edge of the couch. “I did a lot of dog sitting and walking when I was in middle and high school.”

Rogue snorted. The comparison of her life as a teenager and his was vastly different. While she was walking dogs, he was transferring drugs across state lines.

“That was your job?” It was a dig, and Rogue didn’t feel any regret.

“One of them. I also babysat for my brother’s friend’s kid every other weekend when he had him. I worked at the convenience store and the gas station, and on Saturdays, I was part of the cleanup crew for the flea market.”

“You go through jobs like fucking mad.”

She knitted her brows. “What do you mean?”

Rogue took a sip of his drink and then scoffed. “You just listed seven jobs. Couldn’t keep one?”

“Oh no, I worked all of them until I left home. Started the dog stuff and babysitting at eleven, the market at, umm, thirteen, I think, and the gas station and convenience store at fourteen. But I kept them all until I left home.”

While he wouldn’t admit it to her, he was impressed.

“Must’ve made bank working that much.”

“Well, after rent and then buying food and stuff, there wasn’t much left for savings. But I had some.”

“Rent?”

“Yeah, my dad said if I could make money, then I could pay my own way. He took half of everything I got paid since I started working at eleven.”

What the fuck?

“Your dad sounds like a piece of shit.”

Quinn laughed. “We don’t get to choose our parents.”

No, we don’t.

“And your brothers?”

Quinn seemed surprised by his question and shifted nervously in her chair.

“What about them?”

“Are they like your dad?”

She stared back for a few seconds, and her lips flattened before she slowly nodded. It was subtle, as if she didn’t want to admit anything. Thirty-five times. A picture was forming in his mind. And I don’t fucking like it . If he had to guess, her father wasn’t the only piece of shit in her house. He cupped his mouth and shifted his gaze across the room. Rogue was getting a mental picture that had his blood boiling through his veins. Quinn’s abuse had been a family affair.

“Do you have brothers?” she asked.

“Two.”

“Are you close?”

“Yeah.”

Quinn smiled, whispering. “That’s good.”

Rogue angled his head, watching her. He should’ve let her past go. He didn’t. “Your mother? No mention of her.”

Quinn flattened her lips and shrugged. Her shift in demeanor made it clear it wasn’t something she was comfortable discussing. Most people would’ve backed off.

“This was your idea. Told me to ask. Well, I’m fucking asking.”

Quinn bit her bottom lip and hesitated briefly.

“She left when I was about three, I think. I don’t really remember her. According to my dad, she was a weak, useless whore who was messing around on him.” She gave a small shrug.

“You believe him?”

Quinn sighed. “My dad wasn’t the nicest guy, so I can’t blame her for leaving.”

And knowing all that, she’d left a three-year-old Quinn behind. Maybe their pasts weren’t as different as he’d thought.

“Where is she now?” Rogue asked, already knowing the truth.

“I don’t know.” Quinn cleared her throat and smiled. It was forced. “She never tried to contact me after she left.”

’Cause she’s dead . Rogue could’ve shared that piece of information. Instead, he kept it to himself. Quinn had already suffered enough. Too much.

In most instances, this would be the opportune time to push for more. Quinn was at her most vulnerable. And for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it—not with her.

When his phone rang, she immediately stood. “Thanks for talking to me, Rogue. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.” She walked around the table and was passing him. He couldn’t explain why he did it, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist. Her skin was too pale, like she rarely got sun, and her arms were too thin. Her nails weren’t neatly manicured. They were short and raggedy as if she chewed on them.

This woman is a fucking disaster .

“I’m sorry…”

He jerked his gaze and stood, putting them dangerously close to one another. Surprisingly, she did nothing to create space. Her bottom lip fell open, and she blushed. He would’ve given just about anything to know what was running through her mind.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?”

She widened her eyes, looking anywhere but at him. He tightened his hold, and she looked up.

“It’s a habit.”

“What is?”

“If I feel as though I may have done something or said something wrong, I apologize.”

Rogue leaned closer. “Stop fucking doing that.”

The corner of her mouth curled. “Okay, I will.”

She was too damn close. He lifted his chin to the door. “Go.”

She walked to the door, opened it, and walked out, but not before she gave him one last glance before disappearing. Fuck . This woman was getting in, and he needed her to stay the fuck out. His life, his heart, and his world had no room for her.