Page 125 of Princes of Carnage

“Okay.”

Grinning a little, I start to flip through the pages, explaining the inspiration for the pieces to him.

It’s interesting, talking about my art with Atlas. He’s been in the shop while I was working before, but that was back when he definitely hated me, and I happily returned the sentiment.

Now? I don’t know what we feel for each other, but I don’t think it’s hate.

I’m sure there was a time when he would’ve mocked me or told me my art was shit, anything to get a dig in at me and get under my skin. But now he’s listening intently, looking at my designs with respect written clearly in his expression.

As we’re talking, Nico comes into the living room. He glances between me and Atlas and then goes to sit in one of the chairs across the room. He doesn’t say anything, seeming content to listen in on our conversation as I talk to Atlas about different inking techniques.

Killian walks in a few seconds later, moving silently for someone so big as always. He ends up leaning against the wall off to one side, his massive arms folded.

“I like the color on this one,” Atlas says, pointing to a full page drawing I did of a tree whose leaves are slowly changing from green to yellow and red. “I like how you started out bright and then transitioned to—fuck!”

He catches sight of Killian out of the corner of his eye and jumps, scowling at him. He clearly didn’t realize the burly man had come in after Nico.

I huff a laugh, leaning back against the couch cushions. Killian and I haven’t talked much since he brought me that bag full of those Bullet members’ hands, and he hasn’t brought up the fact that I slipped into his room the other night to curl up in his arms, but we’ve been dancing around each other as we each go about our daily lives under the same roof.

Part of me wants to talk to him, to clear the air a little. But another part of me doesn’t know what to say.

I’m not sure anymore if I’m mad about what he did, or if it—all of it, not just killing the Bullets, but also following me and fucking me at Le Bal Masque so that no one else would touch me—is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, in a fucked up sort of way.

“Jesus. I’m gonna have to put a fucking bell on you, Killian,” Atlas complains, resting a hand over his heart like he almost had a heart attack. “How the fuck do you creep around so easily?”

Killian just lifts an eyebrow at his friend, not responding.

“And here I thought it was just me who found him so eerily silent,” I mutter. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one he can sneak up on.”

Atlas shakes his head. “Nah, we’ve all wondered how he manages to move so quietly.”

I snort. “I was just thinking the same thing. Honestly, you’d think I would’ve noticed that someone who looks like that was following me for months, but apparently not.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize what I just said. For a split second, I hope that Atlas and Nico will brush past it, not realizing the true meaning of my statement, or maybe thinking that I’m exaggerating or joking. But of course, they don’t.

Atlas stiffens where he’s standing behind the couch beside me, and Nico sits up straighter in his chair. They both frown and look at Killian, then back to me.

“What are you talking about, mia cara?” Nico asks slowly.

I bite my tongue, not sure how to answer his question. I didn’t mean to mention Killian stalking me; it just slipped out without me thinking about it while I was talking to Atlas. And although I was pissed as fuck when I found out about how long and how intently he’d been following me, it feels somehow… wrong to rat him out, when Nico clearly didn’t know he was doing it.

Although, maybe I should tell Nico? I wondered, but I didn’t truly know until now that the other two weren’t aware of Killian’s actions. I knew from my aborted confrontation about it in the bathroom with Killian that night that he wasn’t doing it on Nico’s orders, but part of me thought he would have at least told him what he was doing and why.

Knowing that it was just something private makes it feel more personal somehow. And I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.

“Quinn,” Nico says, his voice turning hard. “What did you mean by that?”

I shake my head, not wanting to answer.

But to my surprise, Killian is the one who speaks up. “She means that I used to stalk her,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Wait…” Atlas frowns, his gaze whipping back to Killian. “You what?”

“I followed her. And I fucked her at a kink club.”

39

QUINN

---