Page 47 of The Truths We Seek

“Well you already know some, the clubs for example.” I pause, and she nods again. “Okay, so you might know some of this already, but basics, we work in drugs and guns and launder money for that through the clubs. We also help victims of human trafficking while working with some other… organizations to ensure the trafficking is kept to a minimum. I wish it were zero, but I’m not foolish enough to think we can get there yet.”

I scan her face again, her wrinkled nose and forehead telling me she’s processing what little I told her, likely making her own assumptions, but that’s fine.

“Is that it?” she asks and I can’t help but laugh.

“There’s a bit more to it, it’s not like you don’t know that. Look at how you, quite literally, fell into our laps.”

Her cheeks redden, her hands squeezing together like she’s remembering watching me shoot that dickhead in the warehouse. “Yeah, I know that stuff too.”

“There’s more to it, but that’s the basics.”

“So there’s nothing I can do to… help?”

Shaking my head, I place a hand on her knee and squeeze gently. “No, you don’t need to worry about helping with the business. If you want a job, we can talk about it, but it’s not necessary. You could do what Mama and Shae do—enjoy life, work with a few charities—but you do not need to work. You will never. We will look after you.”

Her lips twist before she chews the bottom one. “Not sure how I feel about that entirely.” She untwists her hands and shrugs. “So if everything’s so simple, why do I still have Bruno as my shadow?”

“Bruno?” I ask quickly, then remember. “Ah, yes. Eddie. Your safety is important to me. To all of us. There are some things not quite ironed out right now, which might pose threats. We let our guards down once. We won’t do it again. You’re too important to us. So even if there’s no immediate threat, Eddie or someone else will always be with you. I’m not willing to risk you.”

“Oh,” she says softly, deflating like I just took the wind out of her sails.

“Any more questions?” I ask, having expected way more from her, but she shakes her head. I have no doubt she’ll ask more in the future, especially since I’m not that certain she got that much new information. I open my mouth to speak again when the pilot’s voice comes over the speaker, letting us know we’re prepping for landing.

Quinn stiffens again, her entire body tense as she turns to sit properly and puts on her seatbelt. I guess she’s less prepared for this trip than I’d hoped…

Here’s hoping for no more surprises.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

QUINN

The time at Tommy’s was… painful. Healing. Heartbreaking. Uplifting.

Turbulent.

That’s probably the best word for it.

Not that Mateo made it easy. I really don’t get what his problem is. At least he was civil before, but during this trip he was just a brat… and that’s me being nice.

Really, he was a giant raging dickhead. A stale ham sandwich of a human. A toddler stuck in the body of a twenty-something.

Any of those are fitting and still not quite hitting the mark.

It was annoying as shit for me, but mostly, I feel for Meyer. He’s trying so hard to hold everything together for everyone else, that I don’t think he’s taken time to grieve.

Or even noticed that he hasn’t.

I don’t know if any of them have, which makes me feel shitty and selfish for being so wrapped up in my own grief, but I also know that my grief is acceptable and not something I have to feel guilty about. Lord knows I’m carrying enough guilt as it is. My poor therapist might not be getting paid enough.

We’ve been back home a week, tons of boxes that Hunter and Rory drove back are scattered around Meyer’s office, and he’s been holed away in there for basically the entire time we’ve been back.

I get it. He said he needed some important details about a deal, and if he hasn’t gotten them… well, I’m not surprised he’s still holed away. There were a lot of boxes that got brought back.

Sliding my phone into the pocket of my leggings, I glance at my letter from Tommy.

Yes, I’m still a chicken shit.

No, I still haven’t read it.

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