Page 205 of Quinlan

“A guest?” Her gaze cuts to me, then to the woman jammed between Damien and me.

“Hey.” Our little captive is sweet, not caring that she’s been ignored up until a moment ago.

It’s taken her a heartbeat to get what Anne’s like. To think it’s cute. There’s excitement in her voice.

Excitement for meeting my sister.

She’s up, rounding the sofa at record speed to stand next to Anne. “I’m Quinlan.”

“Fuck me sideways.” Anne slaps her forehead. “I’m so sorry, Q. Of course you are. Rome’s told me all about you. Couldn’t shut up about you, that guy. Are you done being a captive? Is this consensual already? I’m not taking their word for it.”

“Anne,” I chide, although, much like Liam’s mom when she talks to his dad, I’m not really mad. I love Anne. Love every part about her.

“She’s good.” Quinlan couldn’t care less, either. Her smile is huge, arms open to Anne, who hugs her back. “Yes, I’m a consenting captive, so I’m good too.”

“Sorry again. I was so excited when I heard Liam’s parents over the speaker.” Anne rubs Quinlan’s back as though they’re old friends.

The sight tugs at my heart. Liam and Damien are quiet too, absorbing the moment. For a few seconds, my muscles don’t strain. My brain isn’t set on murder and blood and pumping fists into noses.

For a few seconds, this is all I need. My people. My family.

Then Anne laughs, and I remember. The days she didn’t. The hours she cried quietly in her room. How she begged me to read her a million stories at night because she was starving and couldn’t fall asleep.

The suffering I’d gone through before she was born was nothing compared to when Anne came into the world. Her pain hurt me a million times more than mine ever did.

Focus. Look at her.

She looks healthy now. She lookshappy.

“I’d come here personally. Tear you limb from limb if I find out your fridge is even half-empty, or that Anne hasn’t been eating. She’s yours, but she’ll always be my sister. Always be my blood. There isn’t a day I won’t look after her. You hear?”

Those were my words to Nick, her husband, on the morning of their wedding.

He heard. Nick’s a good guy. You can never be too careful, though.

“Again, I apologize.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I’m exactly the same.” Quinlan lets Anne hold her for as long as she’d like. “Try to distract me when I’m working. Never going to happen.”

Anne finally breaks the hug, and Quinlan jumps over the sofa, sinking in between Damien and me.

Anne sinks into the sofa across from ours. “What happened to your fingers? Some kind of freak accident in the kitchen?”

She’s talking about the bandages. About the marks Quinlan left on us.

“Something like that,” I quip.

“Okay, um, feels like something, um…private. Not my business. What is, is Elaine. Bitch called on the drive over here.” She eyes Quinlan as Damien hauls her by the hips to sit on his lap, her expression approving. “After eight years of conveniently forgetting I ever existed. Which, by the way, has been very fucking convenient for me as well.”

“And?” On any other day, I would’ve leaned forward. Would’ve demanded the information and demanded ityesterday. I’d be impatient. Hungry for the slightest whiff of these people’s despair.

Except Quinlan’s close, her body heat bleeding into mine. Her fury is just as hot. It’s a balm to my soul. I stay there, leaning back on the sofa.

“She’s such a baby, I swear.” Anne’s blue eyes roll to the back of her head. “No one’s picking up the phone, Annie.” She mimics her high-pitched, hysterical voice. Anything that gets between her and her social status does that to Elaine. “You—you need to call them. Call someone. You need to help this family. Set the record straight. You know they’re lying. Your father never stole a dime in his life.”

“You said no.” I suddenly realize my hand squeezes Quinlan’s. I won’t break her fingers, and she won’t wriggle out of my hold, so we’re good. I’m not letting go.

“Honestly? I got bored.” Anne’s manicured fingers tap restlessly on her legs. “I hung up on her.”

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