Page 122 of Something like Love

Spinning around, I turn to face him and quickly shake my head, begging him to stop. But of course, he doesn’t.

“What are you doing?” he yells, latching onto my upper arms and shaking me with brute force.

“I’m saving you,” I reply, allowing a tear to betray my pain. “I do this, and you’re all free. I was an idiot to think we could have it any other way. Please, forgive me.”

My heart is breaking because I know this is torture for him.

But what other choice do I have? If I don’t do this, then Phil will kill us all.

And I will not allow another death to be in vain.

“You’re the one who said self-sacrifice is not honorable but a coward’s way out. What you’re proposing, Red, it’s suicide.” Quinn begs me to rethink my decision.

But I don’t have time for second thoughts because this was always going to be my future.

“You would do the same for me,” I whisper, and Quinn opens his mouth, but he knows I’m right. “You have.”

“Take me instead,” Quinn quickly says, looking over my shoulder to Phil. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Quinn, no!” I yell, latching onto his arm as he steps toward Phil.

But he shrugs me off, sadly whispering, “You go with him, I’m as good as dead. You’re my girl, Red, and I protect what’s mine.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I will my tears away, as I must be strong.

“You have my attention,” Phil says, addressing Quinn with interest.

I have to stop this now because there’s no way Quinn is doing this.

“No,” I spit out, spinning around to face Phil. “We don’t have a deal if you take him instead of me.”

Phil holds up his palm, indicating I’m to stop talking.

Quinn advances confidently and begins bargaining with the devil. “Do you manufacture your own stuff?” he asks Phil, who raises an eyebrow as Quinn has piqued his interest.

Quinn can see it, too, so he continues. “Well, I can do it for you. We cut out the middleman and manufacture most of the stuff ourselves. I cook it, I sell it, and you reap all the benefits. Where I stand, that’s a good fucking deal.”

Quinn is reasoning with Phil’s gluttony, a sure bet that he’ll get what he wants.

“No!” I yell but shut my mouth immediately as Phil raises his gun and presses it to Abi’s temple.

“One more word out of you, and I’ll shoot her where she stands,” he warns, and I know he’s not bluffing.

“You know how to cook?” Phil asks, looking at Quinn with intrigue.

Quinn responds with a dark chuckle. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Oh, that’s my boy. The rotting corpse of that traitor is proof of that.”

I gasp, as I know Phil is referring to Justin.

So I was right.

The wound Quinn inflicted on him was life-threatening, resulting in Justin’s death. And although that bastard deserved it, Quinn has blood on his hands because of me.

“I did what I had to. Given the choice again, I would do the same,” Quinn says with no emotion, and I know he means every word.

The moment Phil’s thin, sly lips tip up into a sinister smile, I know Quinn has won him over. But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I subject Quinn to my future.

---