Page 95 of Owned By The Bratva King

I don’t want to do this. I have no idea how she’ll take the news. Viktor rocked me to my core with the information, and I have to share it, but I can’t, not tonight of all nights.

“Hey!” she says brightly, clutching my hand. “It went well, don’t you think? The baklava was a real knockout, but that’s all on Katrina. My girl outdid herself.” She pauses, the smile dripping off her face. “Oh my God. What’s wrong?”

Fuck. I tried, but I could never hide from her. She’s too empathic, and loves me too much. She can always tell when I’m keeping something close to my chest, and it never stays a secret for long.

I sit beside her. “You know I’ve been looking for info about your parent’s murders?” I ask. She nods, her face draining of color. “A man contacted Viktor. He’d heard the Kazanov bratva were asking around and figured he’d better confess before someone snitches on him. Apparently he was stupid enough to boast about the killings to a few people at the time.”

“Who?” Quinn asks. I feel her hand shaking. “Some mafia guy, right?”

“No.” I draw a deep breath. “Julian lied to you. He probably figured the police wouldn’t investigate too much if they thought the mob was involved, so he told them your mom and dad had debts to the mafia when the truth was far simpler. Julian had a lot of horrible friends, right?”

She’s crying now, and it breaks my heart. “Yes. They were disgusting.”

“Do you remember a guy named Nathan McKay?”

Her eyes widen, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Kinda? He came around a few times, but I didn’t see him again after that. Don’t tell me he?—”

“He was a tweaker and a good friend of your uncle.” I wipe her wet cheek with my thumb. “Julian told him about your father’s drug stash and led him to believe there’d be money too, knowing the guy was unstable. I doubt he expected Nathan to kill your parents, but he sure as fuck wasn’t remorseful for his part in it.”

“So Julian lied to the police and me just to keep himself and his buddy out of trouble?” Quinn says, her voice rising in anger. “I’m glad he’s dead, the self-serving piece of shit! Where’s Nathan McKay now?”

“Rikers.” I pull her head onto my shoulder. “He’s doing a sequential stretch for possession and a bunch of felonies that finally caught up with him.”

She’s silent for a minute, her breathing slowing as she calms down. Then she sits up and looks at me, steely determination etched on her face.

“I want to see him.” She stands, pulling me with her. “Right now.”

Walk-ins are not allowed in Rikers Island jail, but such rules don’t apply to the likes of me. A quick call is all it takes, and within the hour, we’re outside a room specially set up to receive visitors.

A guard lets us in. Nathan is handcuffed to the table, drumming his fingers on the metal surface.

I can tell he’s clean. Although meth and heroin have ravaged him—his track marks and scarred face attest to that—his eyes are bright and clear.

I can’t get a read on Quinn. She has said little since we left the restaurant, and I have no idea what she’s thinking.

All I know for sure is that this is her story, not mine. I have the power to make anything happen to this guy, but it’s not up to me. I’m here to support my wife, and what she says goes.

We sit opposite Nathan. He’s been staring at Quinn since we walked on; he can’t take his eyes off her.

“You look like your mother,” he says.

“Why did you do it?” Quinn leans forward to stare at him, and he shrinks away. “You killed my mom and dad. I was so alone and afraid after that. Do you understand what you did?”

“I have no defense.” He glances at her before looking away, as though it’s too hard to meet her gaze. “I was strung out and desperate for my fix. Julian told me your father had a treasure trove of stuff, and all I had to do was take it, but when I broke in, things got ugly.”

I watch Quinn’s face, ready to swoop in and rescue her the instant it becomes too much, but she’s showing no signs of breaking, and I marvel at her resilience.

“Your dad fought me,” Nathan continues. “Came at me like a fucking demon. I only had a gun to threaten people; I’d never even fired it before. I panicked, and the next thing I knew, he was down. I heard your mom scream, wheeled around, and fired again. Then I ran. Didn’t even look for the stash.”

I clench my fists. I want to smash his face in, and I’d probably get away with it, but Quinn’s hand on my knee brings me down to Earth.

“I distanced myself from Julian after that.” Nathan puts his head in his hands. “I wanted to kill myself, but I didn’t have the guts, so I got messed up, did some dumb shit, and the cops picked me up.

I got sober in here, got my GDE, too, and now I don’t recognize the worthless loser I was. I’m meant to be getting out in a few months, but that’s over now, right?”

Quinn nods. “Yes. You can keep your life, but you have to admit what you did and face the consequences.”

Nathan’s eyes shine. “It’s fair. I got nothing out there anyway, and I deserve no better.” He drags his eyes to hers. “Is an apology worth anything?”

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