Page 67 of Chaos Crown

I laughed. “You know, now that I think about it, I should’ve been suspicious of you from the beginning. When I returned to Bedlam U thinking I was Rainey, no one had a clue who I was. Everyone—Paris, her friends, Cairo—all assumed I was from out of state. I had to correct them all and say I was homeschooled. But you...” I pointed the club. “You called me farm trash from the start. How did you know I lived on a farm when no one else did?”

If I expected Quinn to break down and say,aha, you caught me, I was disappointed.

“This isn’t funny anymore. Let me g-go,” she said, thrashing. “My sisters saw me leave with you. You should’ve thought this through.”

“I did think it through. They saw you leave with me willingly after I told Amy you were going to help me get the Bedlam Boys out of jail. They stopped thinking about you the minute you walked out the door.”

“What do you want from me?!”

“I’ll spell it out for you. You’re one of the Black Letter Crew—the name we gave the monsters sending us black letters who were once the acolytes of Scott Cavendish. Two years ago, you killed my little sister and broke my mind.”

I knew as I said the words, they were true. I didn’t see her face that night, and I didn’t remember her voice, but I did remember her figure. She dressed for the occasion then too. Cute in a tight sweater dress, jeans, and leather boots. I remembered she laughed when Rainey’s blood got on them.

“Good thing it’s leather. It’ll wash right off.”

I repeated her horrid comment, searching for a reaction.

Nothing.

“You really are insane.”

I heaved a sigh. “As much fun as this back and forth is, I don’t have time for it. You’re going to tell me where Dante is holding Jack Sharpe, and you’re going to tell me now.”

“How in the hell would I know?” Amazing that someone tied to a chair in a falling-down farmhouse could possess so much attitude. She looked like all this was an irritating waste of a Friday. “Jack Sharpe has nothing to do with me. Forgot he existed after your boyfriends stopped fucking me. Oh, is that what this is about?” Quinn smirked. “You’re coming after me because I was the Bedlam Boys’ favorite ride.

“Let me guess. That whole thing about breaking up was true, but it’s them breaking up with you. They want their Quinn back because just like I told them, I’m the only one who can give them what they need. Aww.” She pushed out her lips, pouting in mock concern. “You’re so desperate, you’re taking out the competition before she knows she’s in the game. Pathetic.”

“Holy hell, you talk a lot of bullshit. The Bedlam Boys wouldn’t touch you with a flea-bitten homeless man’s dick, let alone their own.” One step, then another, I ate the distance. “We’re not here to play games, Quinn. You’re going to tell me where the sheriff is. That’s it. That’s all you have to do right now.

“My first priority is to free him and get him to stop whatever Davidson is planning. After that’s done, we’ll have a deeper conversation about the Black Letter Crew, everything you guys have done, and everything you’re planning.”

Quinn looked from me... to the golf club striking my palm. “And if I don’t, what are you going to do, de Souza? Beat me? Torture me?”

“Yes.”

Her grin twitched. Unsurety flashed across her features for the briefest moment.

“Oh, please,” she snorted. “You don’t have the stomach.”

“I don’t? A year ago, sure, I didn’t have the stomach. But then the girl I thought I was burned a man alive. And the girl I really am remembered that you killed my sister.” I bent, latching my gaze onto hers. “Look in my eyes, Quinn. Do I have the stomach?”

She looked, and the grin melted away. “You won’t kill me.”

“You sound like you’re asking me, not telling me. If you need me to repeat myself, here it is: you will not survive this, Cunningham. No matter what, I will beat you bloody and bury you in the dirt for what you did to Rainey.”

“I didn’t do anything!” She lurched forward, trying to bash in my nose. Again she didn’t get far. “I have no idea about any of this. You have the wrong person!”

“Jacques assured me you’re the right person. Now that I’m finally looking, I know it’s true.”

“You’re wrong,” she said, shaking her head under the ropes. “You’re about to make a big mistake, de Souza. The worst you’ll ever make. This is your last chance to let me go.”

I straightened. “Where is Jack Sharpe?”

“You’re deaf and stupid. I. Don’t. Know,” she yelled.

“This is your last chance,” I said, voice flat. “Where is Jack Sharpe?”

She made a frustrated noise. “I swear when I get out of here, I’m going to make a sex tape with all of your boyfriends—at the same time—and make sure it’s the only thing they let you watch in your jail cell.”

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