Page 114 of The Fire We Crave

We know who your families are.

Or worse,you took our family, we’ll take yours.

I know Quinn wants to move home at some point, to live by herself before she fully commits to living with me, just so she isn’t tied to her fear for the rest of her life.

But I’m currently terrified for her, and it’s clouding my judgment as I swerve around what little traffic is on the road.

I’m not sure if she’s going to keep the bakery after Melody’s revelation. It no longer means the same to her that it did a few days ago.

I hope she keeps it, because she’s a damn fine baker and actually cares about what she’s making. But mostly, I want her to be happy.

I make enough to look after us.

But the Bratva are being canny. This low and constant ongoing pressure, it frazzles people. It makes them want to quit, to move. It leads to divorce and arguments.

When I see my truck parked up on the side street near the bakery, I pull in behind it. I’m barely off my bike before Quinn rushes at me, then slows at the final second to hug me gently. “I knew you’d come.”

The feel of her body up against mine soothes my own demons. She’s safe, now. In one piece. Whole. The warmth of her seeps through my T-shirt.

“I’ll come for you a million times over. Always will. You did the right thing calling me. Has he gone?”

Gently, I nudge her away from me, so I can scan the area and reach my weapon quickly if I had to.

She nods. “Yes. I went in through the back door of the bakery because I had all those cookies I’d made last night in my hand. There was nothing on the back door, but when I walked through into the shop, I saw the scratched glass, the piece of paper, and the man, standing there. He was white, your height, had short-cropped dark hair. So, I ran out to the truck. Kinsey arrived a minute later on foot, and I beeped the horn, so she’d see me and get in.”

I see Kinsey’s hair in the passenger seat of the truck.

“Okay, I want you to wait here. I’m gonna go check the place is empty like you thought.”

“I’m coming with you.”

I put my hands on her shoulders. “No, sweetheart. I know this shook you up, but you need to be where you’re safest. And for now, that’s in the truck.” I lead her back to the driver’s side, and she climbs in.

Those hazel eyes of hers do me in every time. “Be safe, please.”

“I will. I promise.” I kiss her quickly. “Morning, Kinsey.”

“Morning, Smoke.”

The normalcy of our little interaction makes me smile, even as I palm my gun and jog across the street. Thankfully, there is no one around to see me, but it also limits the visual distraction.

I enter the rear yard of the bakery, off the alley, quietly, placing one foot slowly ahead of the other. While I’m reasonably certain there is no one here, it pays to be certain.

I nudge the door open with my foot, clearing the kitchen before testing the door up to the apartment. It remains locked. Then, I check the store and get my first glimpse of the etched X and the reverse side of the photograph.

Lowering my weapon, I unlock the front of the bakery and step outside.

Sure enough, there’s a photograph of Quinn and me. I have my arms around her, but my hands sit on her ass. And she’s looking up at me with what can only be described as love.

It mirrors the expression on my own face.

Carefully, I fold the picture and put it in my cut pocket. Hadn’t really considered photographs of the two of us much. And if you remove the fact it was taken by some obsessive Bratva fuck, it’s a great photo.

I close the door and walk back to the truck. “You’re good. The place is empty.”

Kinsey drops out of the passenger seat. “I’ll go get the coffee started.”

I tuck a piece of hair back from Quinn’s face. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”

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