Page 142 of Bonds of Obsession

“You’re supposed to wait for three, you psychotic fuck,” I tell him, but there’s no heat in it. This is classic Killian—doing things his way, pain be damned.

He rotates the shoulder carefully, testing its range. “Three is an overrated number,” he says with a grimace that might be trying to pass for a smile. “Besides, we’ve got more pressing problems.”

As if to prove his point, a burst of gunfire peppers the roof’s edge near Atlas. He ducks and returns fire, but we all hear the click of his empty magazine.

“That’s my last one,” he reports, jaw tight. Killian immediately tosses him a spare mag. The movement makes him wince, but his throw is dead accurate. Even injured, he’s got our backs.

The roof access door shudders as someone hits it from the other side. Quinn shifts her position so her weapon is trained on the entry point. “If you’re done playing doctor,” she says, “we could use another gun up here.”

Killian checks his weapon one-handed, that familiar predatory gleam returning to his eyes. “Let’s give these fuckers a proper welcome,” he says, moving into position. But we all know we’re running out of time and options.

Quinn catches my eye across the roof, and in that single look, I see everything. The fierce determination that first drew me to her. The iron will that’s kept her standing through all this shit. And underneath it all, the fear she won’t admit to anyone—not even herself.

But it’s not fear for her own life. No, she’s afraid of losing us. It’ll kill her to watch her men die on this rooftop because her plan went to hell.

I know that look because I’ve worn it myself. I’ve seen it in the mirror every time I’ve had to make a call that could get my brothers killed. The weight of command is a heavy fucking burden, and right now it’s crushing her.

Another explosion of gunfire forces us both into cover. Atlas shouts a warning as more mercs appear on the neighboring roof. They’re getting bold now, knowing we’re running low on ammo and they’ve got us cornered like rats.

When Quinn looks at me again, I can see the gears turning in her head. She’s got that expression she gets right before doingsomething crazy—something that could either save us all or get us killed faster.

“Don’t,” I say, although I’m not even sure what I’m trying to stop her from doing. I just know in my gut that whatever she’s planning, it’s going to cost her. It might cost all of us.

She shakes her head with that stubborn set to her jaw that drives me fucking crazy in the best and worst ways. “We’re out of options,” she says, her voice barely audible over the chaos around us.

Killian curses as he ducks another burst of fire. His injured shoulder is making him slower than usual, but I’d still take one injured Killian over three of their guys. Atlas is down to his last magazine, and the door to the roof access is starting to buckle under the assault.

Quinn’s hand moves toward her phone, and suddenly I know exactly what she’s willing to sacrifice to keep us alive.

The look we share now is different. It’s raw and filled with all the words we never seem to say until it’s almost too late. Until death is breathing down our necks and time is running out.

“There’s no other way,” she says softly.

I know what she’s about to do—what she thinks she has to do—and every instinct in my body screams to stop her. There has to be another way out of this mess that doesn’t involve her owing more to those Dark Lotus vultures.

“Don’t do this,” I growl, but another burst of gunfire drowns out my words. Atlas shouts a warning as more mercs appear on the adjacent rooftop. They’re getting closer and more confident with each passing second.

Quinn’s fingers close around her phone just as Killian takes a shot that comes too fucking close. His grunt of pain makes her fingers tighten on the device. I can see it in her eyes—each near miss, each time one of us almost takes a bullet, it’s killing her inside.

“We’re out of options,” she says with that steel in her voice that means her mind’s made up. “I’m not watching you die up here. Not when I can stop it.”

My jaw tightens. Using that last votum… fuck. The Dark Lotus Syndicate already sees her as a threat. Using her final favor like this, demanding immediate action without a proper meeting, will put an even bigger target on her back.

She must see the war playing out on my face because her expression softens for just a moment. “I can handle whatever comes next,” she says. “But I can’t handle losing you. Any of you.”

The raw honesty in her voice hits me harder than any bullet. This is my woman, my love—ready to sacrifice everything to keep her family safe. Just like I’d do for her. Just like any of us would.

More gunfire peppers the roof around us, and Quinn’s fingers move to unlock her phone. Our time is up. We’re out of options, out of ammo, out of everything except her final card to play.

I reach for Quinn’s hand, trying one last time to stop her from making this call and putting herself even deeper in debt to those Syndicate vultures. But she yanks away from me with fire blazing in her eyes.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she snarls, ducking as another bullet whizzes past. “Don’t try to protect me. Not from this. Not when your lives are on the line.”

A crash from the stairwell makes us all tense. They’re almost through. Atlas fires his last rounds, buying us precious seconds, while Killian positions himself to cover our blind spot despite his fucked-up shoulder.

“The Dark Lotus Syndicate will make you pay for this,” I warn her, because she has to understand. She has to know what she’s risking. “Using your last votum like this—demandingimmediate action—they’ll see it as a step too far, or some kind of fucked up challenge.”

“You think I give a fuck?” Her voice is raw with emotion. “You think I care what those bastards think of me? Or what they’ll do to me?” She grabs my jacket, pulling me close enough that I can see the tears she’s fighting back. “I’d rather deal with their shit for the rest of my life than watch you die up here. Because I fucking love you, you stubborn asshole.”

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