Page 56 of Princes of Carnage

Quinn’s breath catches, and for just a heartbeat, there’s a flash of fear in her eyes. To her credit, it doesn’t last long. She covers up her reaction quickly, letting a smirk come over her face.

“Damn.” She chuckles wryly. “If you don’t want a tattoo, you can just say so. Or you know, write it down, or however you communicate.”

I just stare at her for a long moment, waiting for my breath to even out and my heart to resume its natural rhythm. She’s never touched me like that before, and my arm still burns with awareness where her skin brushed against mine.

Finally, I push away from the wall, putting space between us as I shrug my shoulders as if to say, ‘I’ll think about it.’

Then I turn and stride off, feeling her eyes on me the whole way.

19

QUINN

Several days later, I’m at the tattoo parlor in the early evening, down in the basement meeting space with Emmett and a few other members of Enigma.

Our last drop went well, and that has people in high spirits.

“It makes people think that teaming up with the Princes of Carnage might not be a total disaster,” Emmett told me when he came down first. “And I think people needed to believe it would pay off in the long run.”

He’s right about that. I’ve overheard some grumbling since the joint meeting—nothing that makes it seem like people are going to revolt, but there’s clearly been some doubt. We need a win for this whole thing.

“The Princes have a weapons deal going on,” I tell Emmett and the rest now. “It’s happening in a week or two, and we’re going to be expected to provide support for that as needed.”

Emmett frowns immediately, clearly not liking that. “Is that necessary? Can’t they handle their own business?”

“It’s a part of our bargain,” I remind him. “If we expect them to help us when we need it, we’ve got to do the same for them.”

Before that day when we called both of our gangs in for a meeting, I would have agreed with Emmett. I would have said that we don’t need to be dragging into Carnage business, putting our people on the line for their deals.

But after Nico revealed that he got me my own bike and made it clear that he does mean to make a true go of this, I’ve been trying to do the same. Trying to give this a real shot.

I haven’t slept with Nico again since that first time—since our wedding night. I meant it when I told Killian that it was a mistake. I still don’t fully trust any of them, and I’m not deluding myself into thinking that they trust me completely either. But at the same time, I can see the benefits to what we agreed on, and I’m going to uphold my end of the bargain.

If this thing goes down in flames, it won’t be because of me dropping the ball.

“Listen,” I tell Emmett and everyone else. “We need them and they need us. So we’re going to do this for real. The next time we have a deal where we need backup, we’ll call them in.”

“And we’re just supposed to trust them to have our backs?” Jasper mutters, and I pin him with a look.

“I’m asking you to trust me,” I say. “And I think this is the right call.”

That silences any more protests, and after giving out more details, I call the meeting to a close. Emmett agrees to find the more agreeable Enigma members to put on this job with the Princes, and that’ll have to be good enough.

I go back up to the main part of the tattoo shop, inhaling the scent of ink and soaking in the buzz of the machines as customers get tattooed. It’s a comforting smell. The smell of my childhood and the business my dad built and taught me. It always reminds me of him.

As a continued show of solidarity between me and the Princes, I rode the bike Nico got me when I came to the shop. It still makes me feel a little thrill of surprise as I step outside and look at it, shiny and black, parked outside the building, and I mount up and ride out, heading home.

It’s just starting to get dark when I pull up to my house, and there are lights on inside when I show up. I’m still not used to that. Usually, when I get back from Enigma meetings and it’s dark, I come back to a cold, dark house, waiting for me to turn on lights and bring some life to it.

This feels more like it did when my dad was alive, and I have to shake myself as I park and get off the bike. It’s not my dad waiting for me inside, but Nico, Atlas, and Killian, and they’re nowhere close to being the same.

I’ve been trying to keep to my usual routines, even though they’re here, invading my home. I step inside, kick off my shoes by the door, and drop my keys in the bowl on the little table I keep there.

My stomach growls, reminding me that I definitely didn’t eat before the meeting with my crew like I meant to, so I head toward the kitchen. But when I walk through the doorway, Atlas is already there, sitting at the little table with a bowl of something in front of him.

I hesitate, half in and half out of the room, unsure of how to proceed. I’m still not used to having to share space, but at the same time, I’m not going to let them kick me out of my own house. So I square my shoulders and walk fully into the kitchen.

Atlas looks up when I enter, his face guarded.

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