34. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Damien

Flick. Snap. Flick. Snap.

Liam’s engrossed by whatever he has on the screen of his computer.

I’m watching him from the doorway to his office. I’d flat-out ask what’s there, except he’s in a trance. I’m curious, but I know better than to startle him.

That Aria bitch slapped him around as a punishment for spacing out. For not going fast enough into the closet. He didn’t tell that part to Quinlan two nights ago. Didn’t go into the horrible pieces he told us while he was high on drugs in the hospital.

What good would it do? So much pain had bled into that bedroom. Enough to last a lifetime. I wouldn’t have said a word either.

You barely said a word, period, asshole .

Fuck you, voice.

Eventually, I knock on the door twice. Soft.

Liam lifts his head from the screen. Sitting up, in his dark pressed suit with the evening setting behind him, Liam stares straight ahead. Looking without actually seeing me.

Slowly, his vision clears. There he is. “Hey, Damien.”

“You’re in the middle of a research project.” I don’t move from my place at the door.

Our last big acquisition, the DriverGone deal, was finalized yesterday. We haven’t discussed any future ones since. This has to be a good one, if he’s onto something while our hands are full with Quinlan and the impending execution of Rome’s revenge.

A genuine smile threatens to break through at the mention of her name. It’s been two nights in a row that the four of us slept in the same bed.

We’ve been waking up with her. Had breakfast together. She wore my shirt to bed last night. Mine.

“Damien, you’re not listening.”

It’s my turn to blink until my friend comes into focus. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, he did.” Rome sidesteps me, walking into Liam’s office.

He’s wearing a midnight blue suit, a shade darker than the one I’m wearing. Like mine, it’s been tailored to his body, moving with his as he takes one of the seats facing Liam.

I came to check on Liam, but apparently there’s a meeting I wasn’t told about.

“Thought there were no secrets between us.” I close the door, taking the seat next to Rome. I’m not upset. I am curious.

“There aren’t.” Liam grabs his Zippo, twisting it in his hand.

“Oh.” My eyebrows rise. “This is about playing with Quinlan and the Zippo? I approve. I bit her hard last night. Drew blood. She can take it.”

Quinlan took a lot more than that last night. I left bite marks on her breasts, shoulders, her legs. This morning, I caught her smiling at the pattern of my teeth on her. Right there, an inch from the crease separating her thigh and her pussy.

Rome wasn’t easy on her either. He didn’t talk about what happened in the gym. She didn’t ask him anything. Instead, he choked her. Grabbed her wrists as if she’d run from him. Spanked her ass red.

Liam, though, he hid his kinks. We’d never fucked anyone together. We haven’t fucked anyone but her, period, in years. Were never too much into random hookups to begin with.

But I could tell what Liam wanted. It started at her apartment. Last night, he eyed the Zippo a second too long before he climbed into bed.

“Hilarious.” Liam’s grip on the Zippo is tighter than usual, now that I’ve planted that idea in his head. Called it. “Wasn’t asking for your permission.”

“Then?”

“What were you thinking about?”

Fuck, I don’t make it a habit to be this obvious. I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest. “Can’t stop thinking about how we should’ve kidnapped her much sooner.”

Liam stares. Rome’s expression is flat.

When Rome and I fucked her, I meant it as a sex thing. After that first night we slept together, it became something else. Whenever I think of the years she’s suffered by herself, a knife twists in my chest.

I’m serious enough for my friends to see that I mean that too.

We’ll make it up to her. All those years. She’ll forget about them; we’ll make sure of that.

“We couldn’t have been there.” Rome pats my shoulder once, puts his hand back in his lap. “We could’ve done more, that’s also true, but at the end of the day, we worked with what we had. It hurts and I feel the same guilt as you do, but we can’t go back and change anything. She’ll have the best future up ahead. That’s where our focus should be.”

“Yeah.” My teeth clench. Every trace of humor is sucked out of me. “Just because she went to school, because her parents didn’t look that bad, I… Fuck. Just fuck.”

“She’s ours. Nothing will hurt her ever again,” Liam sums it up, concise and to the point as ever. “Speaking of. You two can expect an email from Quinlan in”—his gaze slides to the screen, eyes growing dark—“three…two…one.”

Our phones buzz. All three of them.

“You haven’t been busy with research.” My need and something that feels a lot like love push me out of the chair and rounding Liam’s desk. “You’ve been watching her work.”

Her email interests me. Of course it does. The love she puts into her work, into us. Those little signs that show she cares.

I’m dying to read it.

I’m dying to look at her beautiful face on Liam’s screen.

“I have.” Liam’s tone is flat. He can fake indifference all he likes.

Problem is, we’re childhood friends. I know this guy better than he knows himself.

As does Rome. “You’re falling for her.”

“And?”

I’m finally there, standing next to Liam’s chair, hand pressing to his desk.

Our Quinlan is on the screen.

My God, she’s beautiful. Breathtaking.

Our captive.

My savior.

Raising a finger, tracing it on the screen, it’s a subconscious movement. My body craves the feel of the soft skin, where her tattoo is, so I do it. I get lost in the face on the screen.

Her long sandy blonde hair is piled in a messy bun on the top of her head. She’s wearing a gray tank top I dressed her in after we soaped and washed her beautiful hair.

If her laptop’s camera would go lower, I bet I’d find her in the charcoal leggings Rome picked out for her.

A little frown curls her lips down, drawing creases on her forehead. She’s concentrating on another project for one of her other clients. We can see it on the small window in the bottom right on the screen.

She’s safe.

Rex is still out there, a risk. A bigger one with each passing day, since he’s started suspecting Quinlan isn’t really a captive. That she’s with us of her own free will.

We’ve been informed that he’s read her emails to her parents. Maybe he even thinks she really ran off. That she sends her parents money and ditches her responsibilities.

He hates this. Yesterday, he had to go visit his dad. Quinlan had paid for two more weekly sessions, and his dad skipped one. Rex had to go there when no one picked up the phone, then smashed a plate against the wall. He didn’t like it that his dad forgot his Uber ride and slept throughout the afternoon.

We can’t allow her to go see them with him out there.

With him knowing I’m the one who has her.

He’d kill her. Or hurt her. Unacceptable.

The scars on my abdomen send a sharp pain through the rest of my body.

She has to stay in our penthouse. Nowhere else is safe for her.

“Okay, that was an easy fix.” Quinlan leans back in her chair, and I forget all about that bastard.

She’s braless, and when she’s sitting like that, it shows.

She fought us on that, even more so than she had about her parents.

“What if one of my clients wants a virtual conference?” Her hands were on her hips, her gaze accusing. “Could you at least let me put on a sweater?”

Quinlan knew we were watching her laptop. She’s aware of the consequences of disobeying us.

“You’ve been such a good girl.” Rome was at her front. His palm cupped her cheek, gripping her. Warning her. “But if you miss your punishments, we’re not opposed to the idea of making it happen. We’ll take great fucking pleasure from it, sweetheart.”

Gray eyes bounced across the room. Quinlan wasn’t pleading for help from any one of us. She was assessing if Liam and I were game too.

Our gazes and my sly smirk were her answer. We would, in fact, punish her. Gladly.

“It’s my job.”

“No virtual conferences today.” I moved to her side, my hand reaching to pull on her hair. Because I could. Because after years of feeling like my heart would never be whole again, I had her.

“But my business.” Such a sweet plea.

“Your business will be fine.” Liam tugged on the collar of her tank top, releasing one, heavy breasts. Her nipple peaked.

Mouthwatering.

“What will it be?” Liam held her breast in his palm, his thumb brushing her nipple. “Are you going to be good?”

“Please.” She inhaled deeply, goosebumps prickling her beautiful flesh.

“You can wear one tomorrow.”

Hesitation. Then this adorable frown curved her lips down again. “Why are you being assholes? I thought we were over this.”

“We’re only giving you what you want.” I burrowed my lips to the curve of her neck, kissing first, biting. Sucking on her throat until she screamed. “Or are you going to stand there and lie to us? It’s turning you on, being told what to do. What to wear.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Liar.” I moved out of the way in time to watch Rome’s fingers denting her cheek, rougher than before. He twisted her head to him, his lips and hers colliding.

Her screams turned into moans. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

“Here’s an order for you. Tell me what happened to you. Both of you.” Her words were a breathless plea when Liam hauled her into his arms, folding her in a hug. A bone crushing one. He enjoyed the feel of her squirming.

Join the club.

“We’re together.” Her voice was a low growl. “You owe me an explanation. Many of them. You’re making me feel left out.”

“In two days, you’ll find out yourself,” Liam whispered, his mouth pressed to the top of her head. “Maybe Rome will have it in him tonight. Be patient.”

“Let me help you. Please.”

Rome and I exchanged looks over her head.

Mine said, You’re running out of time.

His answered, I know.

At least that ended the bra argument.

On the other side of the screen, Quinlan yawns, stretching her arms over her head. Her top clings to her breasts. I shake my head. This obsession will be the end of me.

Every drop of blood in my body races south. The pressure in the front of my pants is intolerable.

I bet they’re hard too. How could they not?

Pretending Quinlan isn’t the most beautiful, exquisite woman alive is impossible. It should be a crime.

Flick. Snap. Flick. Snap. Flick.

The faint smell of butane reaches my nose. Liam does that when he’s concentrating or when his anxiety kicks in.

Apparently, he also does that when he needs to fuck Quinlan.

“I’m this close,” Rome murmurs. “This close to going home early.”

“To fuck Quinlan some more before she meets Anne in two days?” I ask. “Make her fall for you so hard she won’t try to run away with your sister?”

Rome’s eyes cut to mine. They’re dark. Intense. “Worst fucking moment to mention my sister.”

“When the air in the office is as thick as your dick?” I’m taunting him. Smirking. Some would call what I’m doing cruelty. Quinlan would, for sure.

It isn’t. All I’m doing is nudging him in the right direction. He could fuck her tonight, alone even. Jealousy is the furthest thing from my mind.

He can do that after he talks to her.

“Seriously?” He straightens to his full height. Liam snaps his Zippo shut, his gaze flicking between us and the screen. “What the actual fuck, Damien?”

“Awake, finally.” I mirror his posture, my smirk widening despite the anger simmering beneath my skin. At him. At myself for being just as much of a coward.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve been fucking Quinlan for two days. Feeding her. Taking care of her.” If not for Liam sitting between us, I’d be in Rome’s face. I could, his office is big enough for me to take a step back and I’ll have Rome’s collar in my hand. I don’t do that. “And stalling. I get that it’s uncomfortable, but guess what would be even more fucking uncomfortable? You, killing your parents and expecting Quinlan to be okay with it without any forewarning. Without her knowing what abusive useless fuckers they are.”

Like I should before I kill her half-brother and expect her to fall for me. To love me.

I’m such an asshole.

“She almost has it figured out.” Rome’s hands are fists at his sides. They’re not raised. Not yet. “This is between her and me. Mind your own fucking business.”

“She is my business. You three are.”

“Hey. Enough.” Liam’s staring at the two of us, scowling.

I’ve never been angry with Rome. Then again, I’ve never been this angry with myself.

This is worse, this self-loathing, than it was the day I came to Rex’s home late. We had dinner at Liam’s, the three of us and Anne. I shouldn’t have stayed there for so long. The second I stepped foot into this hellhole, I knew I fucked up.

Then I saw it. Jagger and Laurel huddled in the corner of our room and Rex and his wife drinking beer, binging on their frozen meals. Jagger was naked from the waist up, using his shirt to soak Laurel’s blood on her stomach. Rex and Harlow cut her, and I wasn’t there.

My body rippled with rage. I scrambled to the floor to help clean them up, but the damage was done. That was the only time I hurt myself. Pushed two fingers into one of the wounds in my stomach.

But this is worse. Quinlan deserves better, and she won’t get it. I’m all she’ll ever have. Me and my friends.

This isn’t Rome I’m angry at. It’s all me.

The cloud of rage, though, it’s blinding. It’s numbing. I’m past recognizing my mistake.

“She’s figured out that someone’s hurt you.” I step around Liam’s chair, my finger mashing Rome’s chest. Liam doesn’t get up. Doesn’t say a word. “But for some reason, you’re still pretending to be this big, untouchable person. You’re a fraud.”

I’m a fraud. I couldn’t protect Laurel and Jagger.

Me.

“You don’t think I know that?” While my voice doesn’t rise over a hiss, Rome’s thunders. “She’s mine just as much as she is yours. She deserves better. Deserves honesty. I fucking know.”

A knock at the door.

“What?” Rome and I both snap.

“Is everything okay?” Tatum peeks inside, one hand on the door, the other smoothing down her plum-colored jacket. “The walls are thick here.” Her gaze flicks to Rome, half-apologetic. “Not soundproof.”

“Can we—” I clear my throat. Force a smile that can’t possibly reach my eyes. “Can we help you, Tatum?” It’s a dumb question, since she clearly came here to tell us to shut the hell up. Keep this argument between us instead of the whole office. “We’re done for the day. You’re free to go home, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“I could stay.” Her expression is sincere, and I have no doubt she means it. Tatum helped us build this company from scratch, filed contracts and made phone calls until we’d order her to go home and rest. “Solve this…thing between you three. I’ll help.”

“We appreciate it.” Liam slams his Zippo on the desk, his voice clipped. “We’ve got this. You’re dismissed for the day. Thank you.”

Tatum’s brow furrows. Neither of us has been rude to her. Least of all Liam. “Are you—”

“Positive.” Another snappish response. He’s upset.

This isn’t our argument that’s got him like this. Something’s happened with Quinlan while we were at each other’s throats.

While I wasn’t watching her.

“Goodbye, Tatum.” Rome isn’t looking at her. He’s focused on the screen too.

“Okay.” Tatum nods. Understanding shines in her eyes. “I’ll be heading out.”

“See you tomorrow.” I’m the last to speak before the door shuts close behind her.

I can’t cut my gaze to Liam’s laptop’s screen fast enough.

“What the fuck,” I mumble, the argument with Rome a distant memory.

Tears stream down our girl’s cheeks. She’s typing and crying and I can’t stop myself. My fingers are on her again.

As if she feels me, Quinlan pauses. Looks away from her email and into the camera.

“Jesus, it’s embarrassing.” She swipes at the tears with her knuckles. Her heart tattoo shines, the skin glistening. “I hope you’re not watching. Stalkers.”

She snort-laughs, the sound a pained one.

“Sweetheart.” Rome’s voice has lost its venom.

“What is she crying about?” I ask Liam while keeping my eyes on her.

“Here.” Liam wraps his fingers around my wrist. Touches me like one would a wild animal as he removes my hand from the screen. “See for yourself.”

Liam gestures to the email she’s been writing in the smaller window. He taps on the mouse to pull it up on the screen. Clicks on the keyboard to turn on the volume just so my shredded heart would shred some more at hearing her sob while we follow the words on the screen as she types.

Hey, Mom. Hi, Dad.

I need to talk to you about something. It would hurt, and I’m sorry about that. But I can’t keep it in any longer.

Two nights ago, I was in so much pain. The night Blake died returned to me. My brother. My heart bled. I could hardly breathe. I screamed, and it wasn’t enough for all the pain I felt. I was choking.

I still am. Some moments, long hours, I’m fine. It doesn’t last, though. I can’t stop feeling everything. I’m broken. Don’t know if I’ll ever be fixed.

I’m furious. At you. At the world.

You didn’t mean for Blake to die. You loved him as much as I have.

A part of you died there in the pool with him. I have no doubt about that. About how real your pain is.

So is mine.

My baby brother is gone, and I’m never getting him back.

Finally, after years of surviving, some people helped me realize this wasn’t entirely my fault like I was led to believe. I could’ve screamed louder, but it wasn’t all on me. It wasn’t and isn’t fair that you let this go on for as long as you have.

Still, I forgive you. I can and I will, until the day I die.

What I can’t do is stay in that damned pool for the rest of my life.

I love you. I’ll keep supporting you financially. I’ll schedule appointments and make sure you get the best treatment possible. I can afford to send you to a good facility, where there’ll be professionals to look after you around the clock.

That’s the best I’ve got. I can’t do this anymore, this constant fear. The constant grief. Blake wouldn’t have wanted it for us. I don’t remember much of him, but during the short time he was here, he was sweet. He was good.

He was the heart of our family.

We’ll continue being one. A family. Just…a little different. I hope you understand.

We’ll talk soon. When I can call, I guess. If you’ll answer.

I love you so much,

Quinlan.

She sucks in a few labored breaths.

Neither of us breathes. Liam doesn’t minimize the screen of the email. Doesn’t do a damn thing. He’s as frozen as we are.

“Oh, well.” Quinlan moves the cursor on the screen, her voice raw from crying. She clicks the Send button. “It’s not like they’ll read it. At least it’s out, right?”

Liam slams the laptop shut. I’m faster than the two of them, breaking into a sprint to the elevators.

“Damien,” Rome calls out.

Tatum says something, but he’s too far for me to hear it.

This agonizing need to haul Quinlan into my arms hurts. Viscerally fucking pain slashes through me.

I’ll die if I don’t get to her before anyone else. Before I take my next breath.

For years, I’ve missed the signs. I’ve been obsessed with revenge, with making Quinlan mine. With watching over Rex, making sure he doesn’t physically hurt her.

And I’ve neglected the rest. Her grief. How abandoned she’s been.

I should’ve gone to her faster. Not as her lover—I haven’t felt anything romantic for her for years.

As her guardian.

I thought I’d been that person for her, and I failed.

No matter. I’m fixing it.

The three of us started helping her through this together.

We’re finishing it tonight.

Right after I get to her.

First.