Page 192 of Quinlan

As mysterious as Damien is, there’s nothing about him that I don’t love. I get what Rome’s saying.

He rises, places a hand at the small of my back and grabs the boxing gloves off the kitchen island. “Come on, let’s go.”

Rome releases me at the door. Only he, Damien, Liam, Anne and the building management have keys to it. That’s how the grocery shipments come in while the men are at the office, as Liam told me the other day.

We arrive at the gym, and the first thing I notice is how empty it is. It’s early in the day, but still—no one?

“Where’s everyone?”

“Where they should be. The fuck out of here.”

“How?”

“I talked to the building’s supervisor this morning. Told him to kick everyone out and close the gym for us.” My eyes and gaped mouth must betray my shock, because Rome pins me witha meaningful look and adds, “Money solves just about anything, pretty girl.”

The rest of the sentence, the part he leaves out, hangs in the air between us. Money makes a special kind of problem disappear. Money is how some murders go unsolved.

“Okay.” In one word, I tell him I understand. That I support him.

I offer him my hands, my skin tingling as he slips the boxing gloves onto them. He kisses my forehead when they’re firmly in place and guides me past the treadmills, elliptical trainers, weights.

And stop at the three punching bags hanging from the ceiling. Three leather benches line the walls. Strong, unforgiving fluorescent lights illuminate the space.

The third punching bag with the PRIVATE sign bolted to the chain belongs to him. I remember it from the last time I was here.

It belongs to Rome.

I belong to Rome too.

His large, calloused hands run over the leather, his dark eyes examining every inch carefully. Probably checking for blood stains.

Definitely checking for blood stains.

“Good,” he says to himself, walks up to me and holds my gloved hands. “This is your first out of many boxing lessons. I’m committed to coaching you, then practicing with you, and I won’t stop. You’re strong up here.” He taps my forehead. “And here.” The spot over my heart. “But I need you to be physically strong. Unbeatable. Not because we’re leaving you—don’t even go there, sweetheart. Whoever will try to hurt you will have to go through us first. Just in case we’re not there, for whatever fucking reason, you’ll have yourself.”

My eyes light up. A smile curls my lips up, despite the horrors that stand on the tip of Rome’s tongue. He’s giving me the biggest gift he can. Power. Confidence. Independence while still belonging.

“Thank you, Rome.” Gratitude spills out of me in waves. “Rex has never offered me anything remotely close to that. I was always the weak one. The guilty one. He even talked me out of the self-defense classes in college.” Heat prickles at my cheeks, at the half-lie I told Damien. Rome must have heard about it from him. “Said it was a waste of money that would be better spent on my parents.”

“Rex is fucking done. And Quinlan, you haven’t been weak a day in your life. Look at you.” Rome slides up behind me, positions one of my feet forward, the other back. His hands run over my shoulders, arms and hands, lining them so my hands protect my face. “You aren’t even a real captive. We haven’t kidnapped you.”

His breath is hot on my cheek. He’s hard, sturdy and protective, pressed to my back. His body moves behind me, and I move with him.

“No. I chose to be here.” My arms bend at the elbows, punching the air slowly. He’s guiding me through the motions. “I could’ve said no.”

“That’s true.” My back twists, right elbow and knee bending. He’s doing all of that. “That’s a hook.”

“I did it to help my parents.”

I take a step forward, and Rome doesn’t stop me. We’re a unit, reaching the punching bag together. I throw a punch. A soft shock races through my arm and up my shoulder. The pain doesn’t register. The power surging through me is far stronger.

“You did.” His hand taps on my jaw lightly. “Teeth gritted. Chin tucked. That’s it, good girl.”

He reaches for my arms and hands, adjusting, correcting. Teaching me.

“Came here of my own free will.” Another right hook. The punching bag swings, barely.

“You did.” I feel Rome’s chest expanding at my back as he twists me to the other side. “I made sacrifices of my own free will, too. For my sister. Would’ve done it all over again if I had to. Would’ve done it for the rest of my goddamn life.”

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