15. CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Quinlan

Rex: Everything okay?

Everything okay. Ha.

Two words are all I get from him after a full day of silence. He didn’t text me last night. Hasn’t called throughout the morning and the afternoon to apologize for his behavior.

Neither have I. Clearly.

“Everything okay” isn’t an apology. I’m not going to let this slide. The way he went apeshit at Maeve’s wasn’t acceptable. I won’t let him treat me like a child anymore. He can’t think he has the right to choose a man for me.

He said he wanted me to get married, then he yelled at Rome to leave me alone? No, he can forget about that.

Years ago, I would’ve accepted his behavior. This outburst. Would’ve rationalized it, labeled it as grief.

Over the last twenty-four hours, I’ve decided that this is it. He could be overprotective. He could suggest that I don’t go out with random guys I met on the street. That’s fine. Hell, that’s reasonable.

Making a scene and being inches from punching someone is where I draw the line.

We have to stop letting grief dictate our lives.

Losing Blake is a constant pain that I live with. I barely knew him—anyone barely knew him; he was so young at thirteen months—but it hurts. He was ours .

I’ll never forget him. Neither of us will. We have to move forward, anyway. Keep him locked tight in our hearts and carry him with us while we find our happiness. While we find reasons to live.

As I near the cocktail bar where I’m supposed to meet Ray and the others, I feel hopeful. Hopeful about Rex’s message, wishing he’s gotten over himself. That this text he sends me will be a peace offering. That it’ll end with him telling me he’ll never do it again.

I don’t answer him as I rush on my heels toward the bar. I’m late, so I’ll have to answer him once I’m there. If I’m not paying attention, chances are I’ll stumble over.

The only places I go to in heels are meetings, when I sit with my clients from Chicago. Every other day I’m either barefoot, in slippers or in sneakers.

Yeah, I’ll definitely fall over if I type out a message while I’m walking. My black, midi dress will scrunch up my waist. The entire street will have a full view of my black panties.

I run my free hand over the keyhole neckline and the smooth fabric of my dress. I love this garment. I won’t ruin it, or the leather jacket I have over it by being careless.

I won’t embarrass myself out here where someone or some ones might be stalking me.

Rex will have to wait. I straighten my spine and roll my shoulders back. My long hair that I left down bounces on my back with every step. Smooth and straight after twenty minutes of ironing.

This is fun, this escapism. For a few hours, I’m not Quinlan Palmer. I’m not Rex’s half-sister, not my parents’ daughter. They’re taken care of for tonight.

There are no men that get me all hot and bothered, then disappear.

I didn’t lose a brother in a terrible tragedy. Not tonight.

I’m just another twenty-three-year-old, heading for a night out with her friends. Even if the only person I know there is Ray.

Determined, I throw the phone into my bag and march forward. The red and white sign of the cocktail bar gets closer with every step I take. In a minute, I’ll be there. A little late, but…it is what it is.

“Ray Wilson?” I give her name to the host. “They’re supposed to be here.”

While he taps on the screen of his tablet, I twist my head to look inside, searching for her. The place is packed. So many patrons either sit on the bar, occupy low tables or booths or hang around, a drink in their hands. No wonder she had to make reservations.

Other than being full, the cocktail bar is gorgeous. Swanky. Elegant sphere light fixtures are spread around the restaurant, spreading dim light in the otherwise dark space. Cherry wood panels cover the floor and the walls.

The moment I recognize that “Love into a Weapon” by Madalen Duke plays over the speakers is when the host looks up at me.

“Yes, they’re here,” he reaffirms what I just said. “Follow me, please.”

Two steps inside after the light-haired host, and my phone vibrates in my bag. Again and again and again.

A call. It has to be Rex. He must be freaking out, to call instead of waiting for me to text him back.

I’m not going to be an asshole. I won’t screen his call. I’ll tell him I’m fine and hang up.

It’ll be over by the time I reach Ray. No one will ever realize I’m having family drama.

Just another twenty-three-year-old. That’s me.

“Rex.” Unlike this morning, I checked the caller ID. “What’s up?”

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?” I can hardly hear him over the music, pressing two fingers to my other ear.

“Where. Are. You?”

Being the object of Rex’s tantrums has conditioned me into flinching at his tough voice. He’s bigger. Louder. It doesn’t help that I’m guilty. After all, I’m the one who’s to blame for his grief.

But—no. I stop that snowball before it even starts rolling. I can’t keep blaming myself for everything. Can’t keep letting him treat me like this.

Instead of cowering from him, I lift my chin up, and square my shoulders.

I haven’t contacted him today for a reason. He doesn’t get to be rude, then call and make demands.

“I’m fine,” I raise my voice to be heard over the music. “I’m about to meet—”

The sentence dies a miserable death on my tongue. Scratch that, it’s never made it that far. The words stuff my throat, choking me.

“Meet who?”

My friends, I want to say.

Except they aren’t the only people I know here.

Mystery man is sitting on one of the low round tables. His lips curl into a wicked smirk when he notices me, his sapphire eyes glinting. His dark hair is styled in a perfectly messy sort of way. The casual navy suit he’s wearing looks like it’s been molded to his toned body.

And if it were only him here, that would’ve been fine. Manageable.

He isn’t alone.

At his side, there’s Liam, handsome as ever in a black suit. His hair falls on his forehead, his amber eyes boring into mine. With his forearms resting on the table, one of his hands holds his gold Zippo. My gaze is drawn to it when he flicks it open. When the flame flickers to life.

Two out of three.

False.

A third man is seated at their table with his back to me. My stomach swoops at his broad shoulders and familiar buzz cut, but it can’t be.

“Quinlan, are you listening to me?” Rex, I think. More like a background noise.

It can’t be Rome.

Liam and mystery man’s focus on me must’ve tipped him off. Must’ve alerted him of me being here. He looks over his shoulder, glorious and dangerous in a dark blue suit to match his eyes.

Oh, fuck my life.

It is Rome.

He’s fixated on me, ensnaring me in his gaze.

His jaw tics, the movement like a magnet, pulling my eyes to his lips. Lips that kissed me. That made my heart flutter and my pussy wet. It took me forever to catch my breath after he walked away.

I’m struggling to catch it now.

When I dreamed of the three of them together, it was nothing like this. In my fantasy, the walls didn’t close in on me. I didn’t freeze.

It wasn’t so depraved and wrong to have all of them together.

Do they know each other? Do they know each of them met me?

“Quinlan.” A shout in my ear. “Quinlan, goddamn it, answer me! What’s going on?”

“I…” My tongue is heavy. My mind racing.

Run. Stay. Walk over there and confront them.

While I consider my options, they stare. Their eyes strip me of my clothes, of my common sense.

If I’d had any left, I would’ve used it to move along. I don’t. I stare back, my eyes dancing between the three of them.

A dumb move on my part. So, so dumb.

Mystery man cocks a curious eyebrow and my heart flutters. Rome runs his tongue along the top set of his lips, and I feel it between my legs. Liam dips his chin, and I’m soaked.

My nipples are so hard that I have to hug my jacket around me with one arm. I have to protect myself from them.

“I’m coming over there.” Rex’s shouting louder, sounding urgent. “I have the location of your phone. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

My rage, evidently, is a force. One I haven’t recognized within myself up until this moment. It breaks through my shock. Barrels through it.

“You have what , Rex?”

The irritated host motions for me to join him. I don’t. Another step, and I’ll be near the men’s table. It’s bad enough that Rome had to witness it yesterday. How he’d probably told the other two that I have a psycho brother. That I didn’t defend myself over there, not really.

This conversation with Rex isn’t one I’m having near them.

This is private.

“What did you think, that I’d let you out in the world and not watch over you?” Rex has the nerve to raise his voice at me. My fist clenches, crumpling my leather jacket. “You might disappear, and I’ll never see you again. I’m your big brother. That’s what big brothers do.”

His poor explanations aren’t comforting. I’m riled up, trying to smile while my insides are burning up.

“Brother? You’re a stalker, that’s what you are.”

A sharp hand gesture from the host indicates toward Ray’s booth in the far back. After that, he saunters past me in silence.

“Quinlan, it was an insurance policy.” He’s agitated. Well, fucking great, so am I. “Don’t you understand?”

“I understand that you’re controlling.” My brow furrows as I keep looking straight ahead. Directly at the three men in the booth six feet away. “That you’re tracking my location without my consent. I understand, Rex, that you’re out of line. I thought you called to tell me you’re sorry.”

As if he’s listening in on our conversation, mystery man’s eyes crinkle at the corners. His smirk widens, and he’s leaning forward. When he tilts his head, I’m already so pissed at Rex that I tilt mine back at him.

It lands me a shake of his head. Like he’s scolding me.

Like he might spank me.

Lord. I won’t think of what it does to my belly. To my swollen breasts. To the rope around my lungs.

I won’t.

“Go home, kid,” my half-brother says. Demands, actually. “This going out shit isn’t for you.”

“ This isn’t for me.” I grind my teeth. The corner of Liam’s mouth tips to the side, taunting me. Not him too. “I had no idea you were manipulative, Rex. I don’t like it. This is the last time you’re doing this to me. I’m turning off my GPS.”

“This isn’t up to you—”

I’m not sure what’s changed about me, but I have. Maybe it’s the music. Maybe it’s this place.

Maybe it’s these three men who’ve tricked me.

Whatever it is, I’m a different woman. I’m done letting people walk all over me and pretend like I’m fine. Like it’s okay for them to treat me like this.

I’m so done.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Rex.” I seethe. “This isn’t up to you .”

Is Rome reading my lips? Seems like it. He gives me a brisk nod, his fierce expression lending me the strength I need to put an end to this discussion.

I shouldn’t rely on any of these three for anything. In fact, I dare any of them to try to talk to me when I end this call. They won’t know what hit them.

But I can use them. And I will. I pretend I’m as vicious as mystery man. As calm as Liam. As strong as Rome.

“If I see you here, Rex—if you try to take me home somehow—I’ll scream. Kidnapping is a punishable offense.”

“You can’t mean that.” He’s done yelling. Done threatening.

“Watch me.” My lungs expand and air filters in. “Someone will call the police. I’ll press charges.”

The humiliating night I spent over at a friend’s house in junior high resurfaces. Dad told Rex I was there in a moment of lucidity. He drove over there. Banged on my friend’s door. Dragged me home by my arm and left.

I didn’t go to school for a week after that; I was so embarrassed.

No more.

The men were only the strike of a match. My soul has been doused with gasoline for years.

With one click, I hang up on him. I turn off the GPS on my phone and shove the phone in my bag.

In the bar, it’s business as usual. Music continues to play around me. People talk, drink, laugh.

And yet…

Nothing’s the same.

Empowered. That’s what I feel.

That, and burning up.

The men keep staring at me, not an ounce of humor or depravity on their faces. Concern and fury harden their features. Eyes narrowed.

I yelled, I realize. And while the rest of the people close by are polite, acting as if they haven’t noticed me shouting at Rex, my three strangers do no such thing.

They make it a point to let me know my conversation was their business. That I’m their business.

Great. Just great. I hoped to avoid it, and look at me.

Humiliated all over again.

Rex has ruined my night with his psycho, controlling behavior. Has thrown me off balance.

The three men who stare at me aren’t any better. They’re here for me.

It’s crystal clear that this has been some kind of a ruse. Neither one of them is surprised that the others recognize me. They, like my half-brother, are stalkers.

Mystery man had me doubting myself when I accused him of it. He can’t gaslight me anymore. No one can.

My feet move on their own, one step after the other, toward the back of the bar. To my friends. I stride past the men, my head held high.

They don’t exist anymore. They won’t rattle me.

I’m here to have fun. No one, and I mean no one, will ruin this for me.

“Quinlan, there you are.” Ray jumps out of the booth as soon as I come into view.

Beautiful in a mini, dove-gray dress that hugs her curves, my neighbor is all smiles. She rushes to me on her three-inch heels, and though we don’t usually hug, I let her wrap her arms around me. After the last ten minutes, I need it. Desperate for it.

“I’m sorry for being late.” I pat her back, looking at the other two men in the booth. At their polite smiles.

This is safe, being around them. These friendly, kind people.

Unlike my stalkers.

“Nonsense. You shouldn’t have been running on these heels for us.” Oh, no. She’s probably referring to my racing heart. She mistakes my body’s reaction to the predators around me for something else. Something innocuous. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

I force a smile on my face, apologizing again to the other men in our booth. They act like it’s no big thing, then Ray moves to stand next to one of the men.

“This is Alden, my boyfriend.”

“Hey.” The dark-haired, bulky man wraps his arm around her middle. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“This is Hugh.” She gestures to the man sitting across from Alden. A blond, lanky man.

“Nice to meet you, Quinlan,” he says over the music, scooting over for me to slide in next to him.

“Same here.” I put a hand over my chest, massaging it. Calming my racing heart. Doesn’t work. It can’t work when my stalkers are right there, behind me. When a sick part of me wants them. “Would you excuse me for a second?”

I’m already two steps toward the bathroom. I need to splash water on my face, calm the fuck down.

“Can I get you anything?” Hugh hands me over the menu.

“Thanks, I have it.” I wave it off, backing away from the group. “I’ll be a second. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Alden reassures me.

Ray adds, “Are you okay? Do you need me there?”

They’re all so nice. So welcoming. Their kindness almost makes me feel like myself again. A few drops of water will do the rest of the job.

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Okay.” Her dark brown eyes are piercing. Searching for what’s wrong. She’ll make a great lawyer one day. “We’ll be here.”

“Thanks. Sorry.” I scurry into the bathroom, managing to stay on my heels without stumbling.

Two women walk out, and I slip past them inside, closing the bathroom door behind me. I lean on the sink, the ceramic cold beneath my fingers.

I bow my head down. Inhale. Exhale.

I’m safe. Nothing’s going to happen tonight.

Rex won’t come here after my threat.

The three men out there can’t be stalking me. I was sure of it for a minute there.

But—no, it can’t be. Being stalked and hunted down doesn’t happen to ordinary people. I’m as ordinary as they come. I have my own small business. My small family. I run four times a week, take the same route every single time.

If I do hang out somewhere, it’s at Maeve’s.

My gray eyes look back at me from the mirror. Ordinary. That’s what I am.

Stalking only happens in the movies.

My life isn’t a movie. I’m not some kind of a celebrity or someone worth stalking.

This has to be the world’s strangest coincidence. That’s it.

Right?

“Right,” I tell my reflection. “Fine. Perfect.” I wash my hands, the water icy cold refreshing on my skin. “I’ll go out there.” Soap. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” More water. “Forget about everything and have fun.”

The last word isn’t a word. It’s a breath. A gasp.

I’m not alone in the restroom.

“There you are, darling.” Sapphire eyes stare at me from the mirror.

“Are you hiding from us?” Rome is right behind him.

Liam closes the door and flips the lock.

Run.

I should. I should. I should.

The three of them are tall, large and imposing. They fill the small space with darkness and in practiced movements. I spin to them, and they form a wall. Force me to the back of the room.

They close in on me in half a circle. Cornering me until my back hits the cold tiles behind me.

I hate that they smell good. I hate that their colognes infiltrate my senses. I hate that they confuse me.

I walked past them. I had this. Now I’m cornered?

“You need to go away. All three of you.”

“I don’t think so.” Mystery man trails the pad of his finger along my cheek.

The hair at the back of my neck stands on end. My world turns upside down. My heart, that’s only settled a second ago, is once again racing like it’s an F1 driver.

This is bad. This is very bad.

I flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it like I want to.

“No.” My nipples harden against my bra. My thighs clench. They turn me on. Fearing them turns me on. “Go away.”

“We won’t.” Rome pats my head like I’m his pet.

“This can’t be happening.” I stare at him, raising my voice. Faking confidence. “You all don’t know each other.”

“We do, little flame.” Liam wraps a hand around my throat, pulling me to his face. Controlling my airway.

“How?” I whisper.

“Sweetheart, how isn’t the right question.” Rome’s in front of me, his rough knuckles stroking the side of my face. Then he flips his hand, grabbing my jaw and pulling me from Liam. “In fact, I’m pretty sure we’ve done enough talking over the last few days. What do you say, Damien?”

Rome cuts his gaze to mystery man—to Damien, who reaches behind me.

“Agreed.” He grabs a fistful of my hair. I hiss at the pain when he tugs on it. It hurts so good. “Way too much talking. We’re not here for that.”

I shouldn’t be curious. Except I am. “Then?”

“We’re here to give you what you want.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Lies.

I’ve never been this attracted to anyone in my life. Ever. This wet. That desperate for an orgasm.

They see through my bullshit, too.

“You might not want us. Not at this very moment.” Damien leans in, his breath hot on my temple.

From this up close, his unhinged side shows. His eyes aren’t friendly. Cruelty lies behind them. How bottomless are they?

“But we are what you need.” He licks my tattoo and says the words that prove to me how spot on I am.

“Fuck you, psycho.”

He laughs, and I bite down the inside of my cheek to suppress a shudder. To silence the moan I’m barely holding inside.

“Oh, we will.” His lips kiss my temple, and there’s no hiding the shudders anymore. No swallowing the moan. “Some other night, we’ll fuck you. Tonight, we’ll settle for hearing you beg for it.”