Page 56 of Princess of Vengeance

I grunt in agreement, but my mind is still with Quinn. I wish I’d been the one to see her in that bar. I wish I could’ve been there to touch her, to fuck her and remind her who she belongs to.

We’re almost back to the safe house when Hudson, one of the newly rejoined Carnage members, pulls his bike alongside our SUV and signals for Nico to stop.

Nico pulls into the gas station on the corner, and we exchange a curious look as Hudson parks his bike and jogs up to Nico’s window.

“What’s up?” Nico asks.

Hudson glances around before leaning in closer. “I didn’t want to say anything back there with so many ears listening in, but I’ve been in touch with some of Quinn’s old crew from Enigma.”

The three of us straighten up immediately. “What?”

“Yeah. They’ve been lying low since everything went to shit, but they’re still loyal to her. They want to help.”

The news hits me like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. Quinn told Malcolm she wanted to rebuild Enigma as an excuse to get out of his house, but maybe it wasn’t just a lie. Maybe her people really are still out there waiting for her.

“That could be useful,” Killian says in the understatement of the fucking year.

Nico nods. “Tell your contact to keep his people ready, but don’t make any moves yet. We need to coordinate with Quinn before anything happens.”

“Will do,” Hudson agrees, heading back to his bike.

As we pull away, I feel something I haven’t felt in too fucking long.

Hope. Real, genuine hope.

The alliance between our gangs started out so fucking rocky that it might as well have been a joke at first. But it took hold because of Quinn.

And now we’re hopefully one step closer to bringing her home.

21

QUINN

I pace around the too-big,too-fancy chef’s kitchen rehearsing my lie for the hundredth time, wishing I was anywhere else in the world but here.

No, that’s not true.

I don’t want to be anywhere else. I want to be with my men.

My fingers absently twist the wedding ring I hate so fucking much, and I force myself to stop in my tracks and take a deep, calming breath just as I hear my jailer coming down the hallway.

Malcolm walks in, impeccably dressed as always, and I silently remind myself not to stiffen. His eyes land on me instantly—they always do. Like a predator tracking its prey.

“Cooking something?” He glances over at the spotlessly clean stovetop. “I didn’t think so. But then, I didn’t marry you for your abilities as a housewife.”

Jesus. Every word out of his mouth makes me want to dry heave, but I’m determined to let his petty little digs and smug fucking looks slide for now.

“I thought I’d go see Imogen today,” I say, as if it’s the most normal, mundane thing in the world.

“What?” The word comes out harsh and immediate, cracking his arrogant veneer—but only for a split-second. His eyes narrowas he looks me up and down. “Is this more of your Enigma business?”

At least I don’t have to lie about this part. “No. She has my cat.”

I can tell by the confused look that flashes across his hard, angular features that I’ve caught him off guard again. “Your cat?”

“Yeah. In case you’ve forgotten, you didn’t really give me a chance to sort my life out before you tried to kill me and then forced me to marry you.” His expression hardens again and I have to remind myself to bite my fucking tongue before it gets me into trouble. Again. “Anyway, I miss my cat, and I’d like to thank Imogen properly for taking care of her.”

He stays quiet for several long seconds, and I wonder if he might put his foot down and keep me under house arrest simply out of spite.

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