Page 109 of Run, Little Rabbit

I don’t think I ever really did it for a seat at the table. I did it for me. I did it because I wanted to help people who had suffered at the hands of monsters like him. Perhaps by helping them in obtaining their revenge, I was giving myself the courage to seek my own. All those years of Dad’s manipulation flash before my eyes. The way he’d dangle his love and affection as a fucking reward, only to pull it away from me when I’d done something to piss him off. I’d been a child. I hadn’t understood what he was doing at the time, but now I do. And I will not let him use me anymore.

“What a surprise,” I say with a sigh. “You’re making this all about you.”

“Well, isn’t it?” He snarls. “You sent the pictures with your little calling card. You wanted this little meeting with me. For what?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I scoff. “I want you to step aside.”

“What?” The syllable is harsh and cold, like a shard of ice.

“You’re not fit to rule. The men don’t respect you anymore. You’re old and weak, and if the Quinn name is going to survive, you need to be removed.”

“And if I don’t?” He hisses. “What then, princess?”

“Then I’ll hand you over to the police. I’ve got all that pretty evidence ready to go. You’ll be sent to jail and probably become someone’s bitch, because let’s face it. You’renothingwithout the men behind you.”

Rory grabs a gun from one of the men behind him and points it straight at me.

I chuckle, slow and deliberate. There he is. There’s the monster beneath the man. “What are you going to do, Daddy?”

“You know, I never liked you. I’m not even sure you’re mine.” His voice is low and full of rage.

A spark of shock runs through me at his words, but I’m not as surprised as I thought I would be. I’m just sad that I never got the chance to know my real dad. Maybe subconsciously, I always knew.

“Your mother was awhore.” He spits the words like it’s venom. “Her and that bodyguard of hers. She wasn’t even discreet. The whole staff knew. I was a laughingstock in my own damn house. And you, you’re no better. Spreading your legs for those Volkovs. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Another laugh bubbles between my lips, and it pisses him off even more. The gun shakes in his hand, and I know he’s about one insult away from pulling the trigger.

“Of what? Being with men who love me just the way I am? There’s no shame in that, and you’d know it if you even knew what love was.”

“But they’re the enemy,” he roars, and the last of his calm exterior crumbles. He goes to take a step closer, but his step falters and his eyes catch on something moving behind me.

“Are we really, though?”

Max’s low drawl echoes in the open space, and my heart lurches in my chest.

No, he shouldn’t be here. Rory will kill him without a second’s hesitation. I at least stood a chance of sorting this relatively gun-free, but now…

Rory raises the gun with renewed determination, swinging it between Max and me, and a fear like I've never felt before grips my throat like a vice.

A smirk creeps up Rory’s face, and I know what he’s going to do. There might be a part of him that cares for me buried deep somewhere—he did raise me after all—but for Max? There’s nothing.

Nothing but hate fuelled by decades of rivalry.

I don’t think. I don’t even hesitate.

I have to save him. I won’t let Rory Quinn take him.

I run toward Maxim at full speed, but he’s already figured out what I’m going to do because he’s running, too.

Straight towards Rory.

No. No, no, no. “Max!”

But it’s too late.

Chapter Forty-Two

Maxim

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