Page 30 of Princes of Carnage

So I just shrug, acting like I don’t give a shit either way, although I’m strangely disappointed that I won’t get the chance to see how she handles herself on my bike.

“Fine by me. Whatever gets this over with faster.”

Quinn shoots me a pissy look and gets in her car, making sure to slam the door closed before she peels away from the curb, leaving me to follow her. She drives like an asshole the whole way there, weaving in and out of traffic, trying to lose me at intersections. It forces me to use my skills on a bike to keep up with her, but I manage it. There’s no fucking way I’ll let her lose me.

When she finally parks outside of a dress shop and gets out of the car, I’m right there behind her, pulling into an adjacent space.

As I take off my helmet, I catch a look of grudging respect in her gray eyes, but it’s gone so fast that I’m not even sure I saw it.

“Let’s get this done with,” she mutters, and we head toward the shop together.

It’s a nice place, not too fancy, but a step up from some massive chain store. There’s a row of three dresses in the window in different styles, and Quinn glances at them before pushing inside.

As soon as we step in, a woman with platinum blonde hair and a blinding smile descends on us.

“Hello!” she says brightly. “Welcome to Marie’s Bridal.”

“Uh, hi,” Quinn says back. “We’re just—”

The woman cuts her off. “Have you been in here before?”

“No, we’re—”

“Oh, that’s alright!” the woman, maybe Marie herself, cuts in. “I guess I should have asked first if you’re the lucky bride or if you’re looking for bridesmaid dresses. Do you have colors yet? A style in mind?”

Quinn opens her mouth again, but this time I cut in before the chatty blonde can start up. “We’ve got this covered,” I tell her. “We’ll let you know if we need any help.”

Her eyes flicker to me and a small frown crosses her face, like she’s not used to men telling her what to do in this shop. “Oh, well,” she says. “Maybe I could—”

“No,” Quinn interjects firmly. “We just want to look through your selection and try some things on. We don’t need help.”

The woman wilts a little but keeps her bright customer service smile plastered on her face.

“Of course,” she says. “Well, if you need anything, anything at all, just give a shout. I’ll be behind the counter.”

She hesitates, glancing between us again before going back to the counter.

“Fucking finally,” Quinn mutters under her breath. She stalks past the rows of brightly colored dresses that are probably for bridesmaids and maids of honor or whatever, and then heads for the racks and racks of dresses in every shade of white imaginable.

She starts making her way through them, pulling out a few options here and there, checking to see the sizes and holding them out to examine the styles.

“Here,” I tell her, grabbing one that catches my eye. “This’ll work.”

Quinn turns to look and then scowls at me when she sees it. It’s a mess of a dress, with a massive, ballooning skirt and a high, lacy neckline. The sleeves are severe, and the beading all along the front is chunky and ugly as hell.

“You’re hilarious,” she hisses.

I shrug and put the dress back. “Okay, what about something like this?” I ask, pulling out another one. This one is the exact opposite of the first. It’s low cut in the front and back, leaving nothing to the imagination. The material is shimmery satin, and without even putting it on, it’s pretty clear that it will be revealingly tight and show off several of the tattoos I caught sight of the other day when I had her pinned against the wall.

Quinn just gives me the finger in response, grabbing another couple of dresses and heading for the dressing room.

I follow her, smirking at how surprisingly fun it is to fuck with her, and before she can shut the door, I step inside the massive changing room along with her.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she whispers, clearly not wanting to alert chatty Marie to the fact that there’s an issue.

“Helping.” I close the door behind us, then cross my arms and lean against it, making it clear I don’t intend to go anywhere. “Nico’s orders.”

“If you say that one more fucking time…” She glares daggers at me, then shifts her expression to a tight smile. “Fine. Stay. I’ll need help with these stupid dresses anyway.”

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