Brooke’s loathing gaze slid from Quinn over to me. “What is going on?”
“Quinn came by to oversee the installation of our security system.”
Her brows furrowed. “But we really can’t afford all that, can we?”
I laughed tightly. “I told him as much.” Turning my attention to Quinn, I noted, “He doesn’t take no for an answer.”
His jaw clenched. “As I told your sister, two single women and a baby shouldn’t be without one. Especially after what happened last night.”
I pinched my eyes shut at the same time Brooke demanded, “Wait, what happened?”
When I opened my eyes, Brooke stared questioningly at me. “I didn’t want to worry you,” I began.
Brooke snapped out of her chair like a rubber band. “What the fuck happened, Isla?”
Instead of telling her, I decided to show her. With shaky fingers, I pulled down the fabric of the turtleneck to reveal my throat. Just that much exertion caused me to wince in pain.
Brooke gasped in horror before staggering back to her chair. As she flopped down, she shook her head slowly from side to side. “You promised something like this wouldn’t happen. That it wasn’t a skeezy club but millionaires and billionaires went there.”
I sighed. “I was naive to make that promise. Abusive men aren’t just regulated to the lower tax brackets.”
“From the look of your neck, it seems he was downright homicidal rather than abusive.”
Fiddling with the hem of my shirt, I fought to keep my emotions in check. Despite the anguish churning through me, I couldn’t lose it in front of Brooke. I had to be strong for her. “It’s over. That’s all that matters,” I finally replied.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Brooke replied.
After being silent as a ghost, Quinn stepped forward. “You can rest assured he won’t ever hurt your sister again.”
With an angry shake of her head, Brooke countered, “You can’t possibly promise that.”
A cruel smirk curved on Quinn’s lips. “Trust me when I say, he has been taken care of.”
As the realization hit me, the world around me shuddered to a stop. The only reason Quinn could say what he said with such conviction was if he had murdered my assaulter. He belonged to the Irish mafia, and men in the mafia were killers. At least that’s what my limited perspective had been.
My gaze trailed from Quinn’s face down to the hands that cradled Henry against him. The very hands on my innocent nephew’s skin had committed murder. They’d been stained with blood and God knows what else.
I had to fight the urge to stalk over and snatch Henry away. I wanted to take him upstairs to try to wash the corruption and danger off of him. Even though I knew it was a ridiculous way of thinking, I couldn’t stop myself.
While Brooke tilted her head skeptically at Quinn, I croaked, “Please say you didn’t.”
“He hurt you,” Quinn argued.
“But the police–”
He chuckled darkly. “You’re being naive again, Isla. Terrance Manning has cops in his pocket. If you had tried prosecuting him, your case would’ve never seen the light of day.”
“But I could’ve tried.”
As Quinn bounced Henry in his arms, you would’ve thought he was talking about the weather, rather than a man’s death. “A man as dark as Terrance would’ve ensured your silence by horrific means. He would’ve punished you into silence.” Emotion flared in his dark blue eyes. “I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
Oh God. He truly cared for me. He cared enough to murder the man who had hurt me. He had done it to protect me. To ensure that I would get some warped version of justice, and that I wouldn’t be hurt again.
At the same time, revulsion echoed through me. Quinn had killed a man in cold blood. Although it was more than warranted, I didn’t want to think of Quinn like that.
As a murderer.
Anguish filled Quinn’s expression. “Don’t look at me like that.”