Page 207 of Quinlan

Maybe…

Enough.

This isn’t the time to wonder whether one of us put a baby inside her.

This is when I remember that skinny, helpless boy I used to be. The malnourished kid who couldn’t protect himself, much less his baby sister.

I can now.

I can, and I will.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Rome

We have an hourto be done with this. Less than that, really. Our men will need twenty minutes tops to clean this mess up before the FBI agents barge in.

Our connections in the FBI promised they’ll hold back any agents assigned to the case. They said an hour is all they can do for us.

They deserve worse, ourparents. Years of torture. Spending the rest of their miserable lives behind bars.

Except the thought of having them locked up and breathing sickens me. An hour it is.

By then, they’ll be gone. And no, no one will think they’ve been kidnapped or murdered.

But I digress.

We walk fast past the lobby of the building where Anne and I grew up. Nothing’s changed in this concrete and metal prison. High ceilings, marble everywhere, dark wood features and two antique elevator doors.

Everything screams money. Not a whisper of pain and heartache seeps from these walls. None.

Fuck this place.

The man at the front desk lets the five of us through without a word. We cleared it with him a week ago. Transferred money to his account that’d put his two kids through college in case he lost his job over this.

A mysterious glitch in the security cameras for the time we spend here. That’s all we asked in return. It didn’t hurt to learn he loathes Joseph as much as I do.

Anne and Damien head to the elevators. Quinlan, Liam and I are right behind them. The violent energy that’s been building inside me since the moment we left home hasn’t let up on the way here.

If anything, it expanded. It’s taken over every part of my body. Hatred soaks my blood. The need to avenge me, but mostly Anne, is everywhere.

“Their plane took off.” Liam, on the other side of Quinlan, shoves his phone into his pocket. “The Langfords are officially on their way to Vietnam.”

We join Damien and Anne, waiting for the elevators. The corners of Quinlan’s lips lift, curving into a wicked smirk. She knows whichLangfordsLiam is talking about.

She heard all about it on the way over here. Jagger and his girlfriend, Nila—his future wife, according to Damien—play a big part in our plan.

Jagger came up with fake passports for him and Nila. We bribed the officials in the airport and the Langfords’ pilot and plane crew.

Money solves just about anything, Quinlan repeated my words. And she was right. As far as the world is concerned, Joseph and Elaine Langford are on a flight to a country with non-extradition treaty with the US where they’ll stay for good.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” My fingers run along the delicate curve of her neck. The wordmurderplays on repeat in my head, yet somehow, I have it in me to be mildly soft. Caring even. “Something’s going on in this beautiful head of yours. Tell me.”

She doesn’t say a word. I’ve learned this about Quinlan over the time we spent together. This is my day. My moment. She won’t steal the limelight.

Unless I demand she does.

Liam joins Damien and Anne’s conversation. They don’t see how any trace of softness vanishes from my expression.

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