Page 86 of Quinlan

“He can’t,” I’m pleading. I’ll give up my body. My freedom. I won’t lose my parents. “He doesn’t know how to.”

“He’ll learn.” Damien releases me with a gentle shove. Nothing aggressive. Nothing that’ll knock me off my feet.

It isn’t me he hates. It’s Rex.

Why?

“The phone, Quinlan.” He gestures with his chin toward it. “Make the fucking call. Put it on speaker for us to hear.”

This isn’t his choice. It’s mine. I could refuse. If I make the call, I’m doing it because it’s my choice. I have to believe that. Which I do. Ichoosecalling Rex.

“Fine.” I snatch it from the table. Flip it open and type Rex’s number.

And laugh at myself. A harsh, bitter laugh.

Of course my half-brother’s number is programmed there.

What have you done, Rex?

“Make it quick.” There’s chatter in the background when Rex picks up. The clinking of mugs being placed on ceramic saucers. “Table three needs cleaning,” he barks.

Damien, with his sapphire eyes and wicked smirk, met my half-brother somewhere. Rex hurt him. Although…it’s impossible to imagine how he’d have done that. Damien’s more than strong. He’s powerful. Wealthy. Looks like he doesn’t give a fuck about anyone, either.

“I’m not in the mood for games. I’m hanging up.”

The look on the men’s faces could only mean one thing.

I have to answer him, or else. “Rex.”

“Kid?” he warns.

Ice freezes my veins. An old fear of being scolded.

My eyes snap shut, hating that they’ll hear him talk to me like a child.

Mom and Dad. I’m doing this for them.

“Yeah, Rex, I…”

“Quinlan? Speak up.”

A firm hand curls around my ponytail and tugs. Rome has walked around the table and he’s here, demanding I talk to Rex while he’s being cruel to me.

I loathe how wet I am from this. I’ll deny it until the day I die.

“It’s me. I have some, uh, not so great news.” My voice is strained. Rome’s pulling on the roots of my hair, and God, I’m embarrassed.

I’ve gotten myself kidnapped. I’ve played right into their hands.

“What news?” The background noise fades. Rex’s walking outside or to the back of the café. “Quinlan, answer me, damn it.”

A second tug on my hair when I hesitate. Such an infuriatingly humiliating and delicious tug.

“I’m being taken. Uh, kidnapped.”

“I warned you. I fucking warned you. I—” He’s mad. So mad at me. “I’m coming, kid. You’re still home? You turned off your GPS. I can’t tell where you are.”

Liam nearly crushes the Zippo in his hand. Damien’s eyes darken.

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