Page 130 of Psychopath

“Damon began messaging another guy when Dad was dying.”

She frowned. “What kind of messaging?”

“The sexual kind, and a few months before I started my study at Greenwood, he cheated on me with the same guy.” Quinn rolled his watch on his wrist until it faced him. “Multiple times.”

“Oh,” she gawped. “I’m…I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Quinn waved the comment away. “We weren’t compatible long term. I wanted to settle down, but he didn’t.”

“He has been very…busy from what I’ve seen on social media.”

“By busy do you mean involved with other guys?”

She hummed.

“Maybe I should hate him more, or be upset, or something, but I’m not.”

“Have you ever thought of moving out here?”

Quinn widened his eyes. “What?”

His mum nodded. “A fresh start.”

“I like my home.” He swallowed. “The village, my allotment, Mars. It might not be for everyone, but…I’m happy where I am.”

She smiled at him. “Your dad and I were happy in the village we raised you. This villa was only supposed to be for holidays, but when he died, I knew I couldn’t go back to the house or the village.” She chuckled. “Or even the country. It reminded me too much of him.”

“It still hurts,” Quinn said, glancing at one of the many pictures.

“And it will,” his mum agreed. She sighed. “It’s a shame you won’t consider moving out here.” A coy smile lifted her lips.

Quinn narrowed his eyes. “Why is that?”

“The gardener, he’s cute…”

“Mum, are you seriously trying to set me up with someone?”

She laughed, and Quinn smiled at her, feeling lighter.

The time away was needed. Quinn was introduced to the neighbours, who cooed over him and pinched his cheeks while his mum stood proudly at his side. Derek asked Quinn about his bad back, and it took several attempts to explain he had a doctorate but wasn’t a qualified medical doctor.

One day, Quinn’s mum dragged him outside to meet the gardener, who had smiled but acted perplexed when she left them alone together. The gardener was handsome enough, but he wasn’t Zane Black, and after lingering beside him for a few minutes, Quinn excused himself and allowed the poor man to do his job.

“Cute. Isn’t he?” Quinn’s mum said, loud enough for the gardener to overhear through the open doors.

“The cutest of cutes,” Quinn replied, shaking his head. He pulled his phone from his shorts pockets and logged into his emails.

There was one from the university, and once Quinn built up enough courage, he opened it. He’d winced in preparation, but his senior didn’t condemn him for not getting the desired result; he congratulated him on his first solo study and acknowledged the challenges of interviewing violent criminals. Quinn had held his nerve, even when kidnapped by one of the country’s most feared men.

He’d asked Quinn to consider joining him to talk about his experiences in one of his lectures. Quinn had convinced himself they would throw him out of the university, cut ties with him completely, and they would if they ever found out about his inappropriate relationship with Zane Black, but an invite to talk about his experience was so unexpected he gawped.

“The gardener won’t find you attractive if you walk around like that.”

Quinn snorted, eyeing his mum. “I got a message from the university. They want me to come in and talk about my time at Greenwood.”

“A lecturer.” She nodded. “Now that’s a career path I’d feel a lot more comfortable with.”

Quinn tapped out a reply, allowing himself a small smile.

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