Page 74 of Bonds of Obsession

The night air whipping past us on the way home is both a blessing and a curse. It helps focus my thoughts, but it also forces me to think about everything I’m being forced to do. Even the familiar thunder of my engine can’t drown out the voices in my head or silence the memory of Elliot’s words about the pregnant woman.

My target.

My stomach churns with each mile, the acid and bile I’ve been swallowing down finally climbing up my throat. The neon signs and street lights blur together, creating streaks of color that aren’t doing anything to help with my nausea. By the time we pull into the driveway, my hands are shaking on the handlebars.

Inside, I make it as far as the living room before my legs give out. I sink onto the couch, the leather creaking beneath me. My men arrange themselves around me—Atlas easing himself carefully into a chair, sighing from the obvious relief now that he’s also off his feet, while Nico and Killian stay standing, their presence both comforting and suffocating.

“I can’t do it.” I whisper the words at first, just to see if I can get them out. Then, once the world doesn’t stop spinning, I say them a little louder. “I can’t fucking do it.”

Silence fills the room. I force myself to look up, to meet their eyes one by one, terrified of what I’ll see. Will there be the same contempt I saw in Elliot’s face? The same judgment about my weakness?

“I’ve killed before. I’ve broken laws. I’ve done shit that would make most people sick. But this? Murdering an innocent woman? Her unborn baby?” Bile rises in my throat again. “I’m not that person. I won’t become that person.”

“Quinn—” Nico starts, but I cut him off.

“I know what it means to refuse. I know they might kill me for it.” The words come faster now, desperate. “But there has to be a line, right? Some fucking boundary between being criminals and being monsters?” I dig my nails into my palms until I feel skin break. “Maybe Elliot was right. Maybe I am too weak for the Syndicate. But I’d rather be weak than be like him.”

I wait for someone to tell me I’m being stupid, that I’m putting us all at risk. That I need to woman up and do what needs to be done. But when I finally gather the courage to really study their faces, I don’t see disappointment or disdain.

I see understanding. And something that looks dangerously like pride.

Atlas is the first to shake his head, cutting through my rising panic and thankfully giving me something else to focus on, even if it’s only for a few seconds.

“We know,” he says simply. “You think we’d want you to do this shit? To become like them?”

“But I—I thought you’d think less of me. That I’m too soft for this life.”

“Fuck that,” Killian growls. “Being willing to murder an innocent woman doesn’t make you hard. It makes you a goddamn psychopath.”

“Not the good kind of psycho,” Atlas adds with a hint of dark humor, nodding at Killian.

“You want to know why Locke has had it out for me all these years?” Nico cuts in suddenly. “Why that asshole has been trying to fuck with my business?”

“The owner of Eros?” I ask, my interest piqued in spite of everything else we have going on. “That beef goes back a while, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Too long, really.” He turns to Atlas and Killian with a rueful grin. “Remember when I disappeared for almost a week that one time?”

“When you were supposed to be handling that shipment?” Killian’s eyes narrow. “You never did tell us what happened.”

“Because I was busy getting fifteen girls out of that fucker’s basement.” Nico’s voice drops to a growl. “He was trafficking them through the club. Young ones. Desperate ones.”

I grimace, my stomach clenching at his words. “What did you do?”

“What needed doing. Got them new papers, safe houses, money to start over.” He shrugs, but his eyes are hard. “And Locke never forgave me for cutting into his profit margins.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Atlas demands. “We could have?—”

“Taken him out?” Nico shakes his head. “Wasn’t worth the heat it would bring. Besides, better to have him where I can see him.”

“Still,” Killian rumbles. “Should have let us help.”

“Anyway, I handled it. I did the right thing even though it would’ve been easier to look the other way and say it wasn’t my fucking problem. And that’s the point.”

I study them all—these men who can snap bones and spill blood without hesitation, who’ve built their reputations on violence and fear. But there’s more to them. So much more.

“So that’s why you never pushed me to work with him,” I realize. “Even when it would have benefited Enigma.”

“Fuck benefits,” Nico practically spits the words. “Some lines you don’t cross. Not if you want to keep your soul.”

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