Page 78 of The Truths We Seek

To quiet that voice in her head.

Sometimes the only way to quiet something is to know that it is truly gone and never coming back.

“You don’t have to do this, but all that bullshit he spewed was exactly that. Bullshit. You can do this, but if you don’t want to, we can just go home and someone else will deal with the issue for us.”

“Give me the gun, Meyer.” Her voice is low but her conviction is unwavering so I release my hold on it.

“I meant it when I said no one wanted you.” Trent’s words make me clench my fists. “Even after your parents took you, they realized they fucked up. You know they’re not your actual parents, right? They kidnapped you, wanted the ransom money for their next hit, but even your birth parents didn’t want you. Wouldn’t pay up. Unwanted by all except me. And you ran from me. YOU RAN FROM ME!”

What the actual fuck is he talking about? She was taken? I watch her, but it’s like she can’t hear his words. Like she’s lost in her head.

“YOU DON'T GET TO RUN FROM ME.” Trent shouts, and a shot goes off, my ears ringing in the aftermath.

* * *

Watching her stand there, gun in hand, facing down the man who has tormented her most of her adult life, brings out the animal in me. This might not be the first life she’s taken, but it’s the first intentional one.

Except her hand doesn’t shake, even though she’s hesitating to pull the trigger for a second time. The first shot hit his thigh and he screamed like a bitch, but now he’s silent again, his jaw clenched, and it’s taking everything I have to stay rooted to the spot. To not make him hurt some more for everything he’s done to her.

She tilts her head while she observes him. He’s already broken and bleeding, a few weeks at Rory’s mercy will do that to a man, but he still looks at her like he thinks she won’t do it.

Like she’s not strong enough.

He’s always underestimated her, but that’s his problem.

He has no idea how strong my girl is.

“Quinn?” I call out her name to pull her from the racing thoughts I can see running through her mind as they play out in her eyes. “I know I gifted him to you, but if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

Her hand remains trained on him—apparently Rory has taught her well in their sessions—while she turns her gaze to face me. “I know I don’t have to. But he has taken so much from me. A bullet feels too quick. Too kind.”

A laugh falls from me as I grin at her. “That’s my girl. It doesn’t have to be quick, depends where you put the bullet. But as you can see, Rory’s had plenty of fun with him too.”

A grin spreads on her face. “Oh, I can see.”

She turns that slightly sadistic smile back to Trent, whose eyes widen when he takes in the sight of her. I imagine he’s finally seeing who she’s truly become.

“I knew you were like me,” he grunts and her smile widens.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m nothing like you. The demons that live inside of me were created, not born. They were raised by many monsters, so my demons... they’re worse than you could ever imagine.”

He laughs, spluttering a cough in the middle of it. “Even if you kill me, I’ll still be with you Quinn. You’ll never be rid of me because those demons will always haunt you and I helped create them.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” She tilts her head again, raising her hand so the gun is in line with his head rather than his heart. “Once you’re gone, you’ll fade to nothing but a whisper of the past that will be forgotten. I’ve wasted enough of my life, my energy, on you. Life is for the living, and you? You’re not worth another moment of my time.”

She pulls the trigger, her body taking the brunt of the recoil like a pro, despite the gun being too big for her. The bullet enters his head, the back of his skull exploding from the caliber of the bullet as it exits, but she’s close enough for the spatter to coat her.

“I thought a bullet was too quick?” I ask her, half teasing, half trying to gauge her.

Turning to me, she’s still as calm as a placid lake, despite the blood running down her cheek.

The sight of it has me hard as a fucking rock. Probably shows just how fucked up I am, but who gives a shit?

“It was, but I didn’t want to give him another second of my time.” She walks over to me and hands me the gun, which I put down on the metal tray behind me before grabbing her cheeks, kissing her with every ounce of need coursing through my veins. She grips the front of my shirt, no doubt smearing blood on the white material, but somehow that makes me want her more.

“Are you okay?” I ask once I can bring myself to pull back from the kiss. Her grip doesn’t loosen as she looks up at me, my own passion reflected back at me on her face.

“I am more than okay,” she responds, unbuttoning my shirt. “But I could definitely be better.”

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