Page 78 of Quinlan

“I’m fine,” she reassures Ray. “Talk soon.”

I linger behind for a moment, reveling in the indignant expression on Hugh’s face. Like I mentioned, delusional.

Outside, Rome eyes the Uber that’s waiting outside. Dame catches the movement, helping Quinlan inside.

Meanwhile, I bury my hand in my pocket. Take out my Zippo.

Flick.

“What now?” Quinlan asks before Damien closes the door.

“Something troubling you, sweetheart?” A smile snakes up on Rome’s face. “Already begging to see us again?”

Her bottom lip juts out. “No.”

Snap. Flick. Snap.“We will anyway.”

“No, you won’t.” Her attention is divided between the flame and my face. “This was the last time any of you tricked me.”

“Of course, darling.” Damien is gentle when he shuts the door. He bends so he’s face-to-face with her through the open window. “I’m sure you’ll hate us tonight too,” he whispers. “When you rub one off, imagining it’s my tongue.”

Her shocked gasp is silenced by the sound of Damien’s hand as he slaps the top of the car twice, signaling the driver he’s free to go. Which he does.

As do we. We get into Damien’s SUV, track the Uber driver, and make sure Quinlan gets home safely.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Quinlan

“Ms. Palmer.” Tatum, thesecretary at BLF Capital, smiles at me.

She sits behind her wide, wood desk, her green eyes kind. The three offices surrounding her desk are empty. There are no name tags on the closed doors. But I know whose offices they are.

At least their titles. The VPs of BLF Capital.

Their current website didn’t have the VPs’ names on it. Or the owners’. Or anyone in the company, for that matter. I hate coming off as if I don’t care about my job. About the people who work there.

I’ve had no other choice. No one’s given me their names.

I’ll have them soon enough. They’ve been on a business conference call—as Tatum’s informed me—before our meeting. The one I’ve been dreading.

This might’ve been easier if not for what happened two nights ago. The night the three men that had haunted my dreamsadmitted to stalking me. The night the three of them cornered me. Terrified me.

Made me come.

And fucked me in the head.

Ray has called me twice since. I let the calls go to voicemail and texted her later, letting her know I’m alive. And busy. And sorry. So sorry.

Though nothing I could say would excuse my behavior.

Rex and I spoke once since, and I hung up on him when my voice cracked. Fast. He sent a million messages later. I ignored most of them.

Running didn’t happen, either. I couldn’t bear the thought of bumping into anyone, anyone at all.

Instead, I drowned myself in work and marketing my business, hoping to forget about the dangerous strangers and how I embarrassed myself in a public restroom.

For the most part, I managed.

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