Page 108 of Bonds of Obsession

I don’t hate how protective they are. And I’m not so blinded by pride to realize I’m not in a place to turn down the help at the moment.

I close my eyes and surrender myself to the water for another minute or two. In my mind’s eye, I can’t stop picturing my dad’s face. I know he’d be relieved that I’m still alive, but I can’t help but think he’d be more than a little disappointed at how everything has turned out.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I fucked it all up, Dad.”

“Quinn?” Killian’s voice through the door. “You good in there?”

“Yeah.” My voice comes out rough with emotion, like I’ve been gargling with gravel. “I’m… I’m fine.”

“Liar,” he says, but he doesn’t push it.

I press my forehead against the cold tile. The guys are out there doing what needs to be done—checking exits, testing security, making this place safe. And I’m in here falling apart.

“Get your shit together,” I tell myself, but my voice breaks.

A thud against the wall makes me jump, followed by Atlas’s deep voice. “These goddamn cameras aren’t worth two shits.”

“Get your ass down from that ladder,” Nico says. “And let Killian take a look at those stitches.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding through your shirt, asshole.”

“Fuck off. I’m fine.”

At least some things don’t change.

I stay under the spray until the water runs cold, trying to numb the ache in my chest, but it doesn’t work.

I wrap a towel around myself and head for the bedroom to find some clean clothes. The sound of Killian’s voice stops me in the hallway.

“Easy there, little killer,” he says softly. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you here. I promise.”

I peek around the doorframe and see Killian sitting cross-legged on the floor, setting up a litter box. The cat is investigating from under the bed, all huge eyes and careful steps.

“Look what I got you,” he says, pulling something from a bag. “This is all premium shit. No cheap food for you.”

“Come on out,” he coaxes. “Got some fancy food for you. Better than that cheap shit they were feeding you. Even got you one of those little mice filled with catnip.”

My heart clenches watching him. This is the man who can intimidate stone cold killers and torture other men without flinching. The man other gangs whisper about in fear.

The cat creeps closer to him, and Killian stays perfectly still. When it finally gets close enough to sniff his hand, his whole face softens.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Not so bad, right? Just you and me, figuring shit out.”

“And Quinn,” Atlas says from behind me, making me jump. “When she’s not spying.”

I turn to glare at him, but he just grins. The cat startles at his voice and darts back under the bed.

“For fuck’s sake,” Killian growls. “We were making progress.”

“Found some bowls in the kitchen,” Atlas adds, ignoring Killian. “Figured the little killer needed a proper setup.”

“Little killer?” I can’t help but smile, stepping into the room.

Killian shrugs, his eyes darkening as they track over my towel-clad body. “I saw her take down a moth earlier. She’s got potential.”

“Like owner, like cat,” Atlas says, but his eyes are on Killian’s face, something soft in his expression before he walks away.

---