Any other time, I might have agreed. But not now. Not after this.
“No.” I gesture at the burning building behind us. “Look around. He hit my house and Blood and Ink in one night. He got past all our security, all our lookouts. And he has the resources to keep this going indefinitely.”
“So we adapt,” Cabby says. “We change our patterns, stay mobile?—”
“And what happens when he finds you anyway?” My voice rises. “What happens when he carves up your face like he did to—” I cut myself off, but they all know who I mean. Marcos might have been a new recruit, but he was one of us. “He’s watching. Learning our moves. Using everything he knows against us.”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. I can see fear mixing with the anger now.
“I won’t sacrifice any more of you,” I tell them. “Not for my war. Not for my mistakes.”
“They’re our mistakes too,” Cabby says quietly. “We’re family.”
“That’s why I’m ending this.” I meet his eyes. “Because family protects each other. And right now, the only way I can protect you is to cut ties completely.”
I turn to check on Jasper, still being treated in one of the ambulances. The EMTs are loading someone else in too, with an oxygen mask strapped to their face.
“At least let us help you hunt down Ambrose first,” Damon tries one last time.
“No. Go home. All of you. Stay safe.” I soften my tone slightly. “You’ve been loyal to my father and to me. I appreciate that more than I can say. But this is where it ends.”
They start to disperse, some angry, others shocked into silence. A few give me understanding nods as they pass. Cabby lingers the longest, his jaw working like he wants to say more.
“Go,” I tell him quietly. “Take care of yourself.”
His shoulders slump and he finally turns away. I watch them leave, these people who’ve been my family since I was a kid. My eyes sting as the parking lot empties, leaving just me and my three men.
The firefighters are still battling the blaze, but Blood and Ink is a lost cause. Just like my house. Just like Enigma. Everything my father built, everything I fought to preserve, has gone up in flames because I couldn’t protect it.
The sound of glass breaking somewhere inside the shop makes me flinch. Memories flash through my mind—my father behind the counter, teaching me how to run the register. Or in his office, teaching me the books. Me taking over after his death, determined to prove myself. All those moments, burning away.
“Just like the fucking Princes,” I mutter, barely aware I’m speaking out loud.
“Quinn—” Nico starts, but I cut him off.
“No, it’s fucking poetic, isn’t it?” My laugh comes out harsh. “You lost your club to Zoey. I lost mine to Ambrose. Both after a senseless fucking fire.”
I run my hands through my hair, tugging hard enough to hurt. “At least you three chose to build the Princes. My father dropped all this in my lap when he died. The gang, the marker, all these fucking secrets he never bothered to explain.”
The firefighters start packing up their gear. There’s nothing left to save.
“Everything he worked for.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Everything I promised to protect. And look at it now. I’ve fucking destroyed it all.”
I turn away from my men, needing space. Needing to get myself under control. Leaders don’t break down in parking lots. They don’t cry over burning buildings.
Then again, I’m not much of a leader if there’s nobody left for me to lead.
“Quinn.” Killian’s voice carries across the lot. “Don’t.”
“Give her space,” Nico says, but I’m already walking.
My feet carry me toward the edge of the lot. Away from the emergency lights, away from concerned looks. Away from everything.
“I need a minute,” I call back without turning. “Just… a minute.”
I press my palms against my eyes, willing the tears back. Willing the pressure in my chest to ease. I’m not some weak little girl who falls apart when things get hard. I’m Quinn fucking Kent. I’m?—
A laugh tears from my throat, bitter and sharp. Quinn fucking Kent. Right. The girl who just disbanded her father’s gang. The one who couldn’t protect her people.