Page 90 of Cohesion

“Tell me where he is,” he said in a low voice.

“I want a lawyer,” he replied shakily.

“You already got one.” Quinn pulled out his firearm and pressed the barrel to the underside of the man’s jaw. “Where did you take him? If I have to ask again, my finger is going to slip,” he warned. “It won’t kill you, but you’ll wish it had.”

Some part of him knew this was wrong, that it wasn’t how to handle the situation. But that part of him remained muted below the panic and dread andwhat ifsthreatening to drown him. Sebastian had beentaken, and so far, all of the people involved in this nightmare had left a trail of dead bodies behind them, and what if Sebastian’s was the next one? The lawyer had been tortured and maimed before he was killed. Is that what they were going to do to Sebastian? He was next on the list. Him, and then Jericho.

Quinn pressed harder. He couldn’t let that happen. “Tell menow,” he growled. He refused to accept that the next bodies they found would be of the men he loved. Or that either of them would go through the terror that had to have been the lawyer’s last minutes.

Grady’s steady presence at his back reassured him without moving to stop him. As Quinn’s shield but also his moralcompass. Grady would never let him cross the line of no return, and there was a comfort in that.

“I don’t know,” the man said. “They didn’t tell me shit.”

“That’s the wrong answer.” Quinn grabbed his hair and jerked his head to look at Kendrick. “See him?”

He nodded frantically with wide eyes.

“He can make you disappear. It will be like you never existed. Even your own parents will question whether they birthed and raised you.” When Quinn forced his head back and looked into his terrified eyes, he said, “And that’s only after I’m done with you. You have one chance to change your answer.” He pressed the barrel so hard into his skin that it was going white, and it had to hurt. Quinn couldfeelthe way he was trembling in his grip. Every instinct inside him told him that this was too far. He was on the ledge, and stepping over was something he’d actively worked against for too many years. That dark, bitter, jealous, angry man that he’d been once upon a time wasgone. He’d worked hard to make him disappear. He wasn’t this person. Not anymore.

“Now,” Quinn barked.

The man let out a sob and then said, “I told you; I don’t know! They didn’t tell us anything. Just transport him. That’s all they said, all I know. Just transport him.”

“Transport himwhere?”

“They didn’t tell me. I wasn’t the driver. We were just supposed to grab him, and then they’d let us know. It was supposed to be easy money, just one lawyer. They didn’t tell us about the rest of you.”

Fodder. Useless cattle hired to take a piece of Quinn’s heart like he didn’tmean anything,when he meant the world, and they were the ones who meant nothing. Quinn’s fingers slipped down to the trigger, anger pouring over him like acid.

A hand came into view, and then Grady was gently tugging Quinn away, sliding the gun out of his grasp.

“Easy,” Grady said carefully. “It sounds like he doesn’t have what you need.” He slipped Quinn’s gun back into his holster and clipped the top over it. Then he cuffed the man and shoved him face first into the hood. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay right there.” As if he was going anywhere with that leg. He’d have to go to the hospital with the ambulance before they could officially take him into custody. “Quinn, look at me.”

Quinn refused to meet his eyes. He got out his phone and flicked through to find Jericho’s number. They needed to figure this out, together. He needed Sebastian back in his arms, warm and safe.

“Hey.”

Quinn stopped, grip tightening around his phone. “I need to go. I need to—We need to—” Something. He couldn’t just leave the scene like this. Henry was hurt. Kendrick was as well. Had Sebastian been hurt when they’d taken him?Was he okay? Was Spencer? Too many bodies, and none of them were the right ones. Too much death, and anger, and anguish, and Quinn couldn’tbreathe.

Grady clasped his neck and brought their foreheads together. “You do whatever you need to do, Q. You won’t find any judgement from me. Not about this anyway. I’ll reserve that for your terrible choice in men.”

While Quinn wished it were one of his men holding him, within reach and assuring him that they were okay, the touch still steadied him. Grady had been his rock for a long time. Had kept him safe, watched his six, been there through thick and thin without question.

“Go find your pain in the ass. Then kick his ass. Twice. Once for me. I’ll handle this.”

Quinn nodded, sucking in a breath. “Thank you.” He turned to Kendrick. “You need to sit down.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a liar.”

“They took Spencer,” Kendrick bit out. “Fucking trapped me between two goddamn cars andtook Spencer. I’m fine.”

Quinn understood that logic on a visceral level. What did their pain matter compared to the loss of someone they cared so fucking much about? He didn’t know anything about the relationship that Kendrick had with Spencer, but he recognised the pain and anger and helplessness in his gaze.

What was a broken leg compared to that?

“Did you see the licence plate?”

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