Page 25 of Knot your Princess
“You are a criminal,” he says, surprising me.
Frowning, I shake my head with a scoff. “What do you know of it?”
Atlas growls. “More than you know.”
“Who are you?”
“Get fucked.”
We sit in a simmering silence after that.
“How did you know about me?” I ask eventually, curiosity burning through me.
He rolls his eyes. “Saw your face.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Why should I? We aren’t brothers. We shared a womb, and then when we were popped out, we were left on the side of the road for the luck of the draw. You seemed to land on your feet, though.” His scoff riles me up. He has no idea the pain and agony I’ve been through.
“Don’t talk about things you have no clue about. You think I got lucky? You think I’ve been with the Quinns since birth? Fuck right off, you fucking presumptuous cunt. Every day of my life up until ten years ago was a shitshow that you can’t even imagine, so don’t you dare think you know me.”
His blue eyes, just like mine, harden, but he keeps his trap shut. Thank fuck, because now we are back at the compound, and we are about to get our arses handed to us — and that’s the best-case scenario. I’m leaning more towards having our throats slit and being dumped in the lake for the fish to eat.
As we pull up, I feel Quinn’s eyes on the van, but I was never branded a coward. With my chin up, I open the van door, only to be confronted with Francesca, who slaps my face so hard that her sharp red nails leave claw marks down my cheek.
“You fuck! Where is she?” she screeches. “Where is she?”
ChapterTwenty-One
Sugar
When we pull up at our destination, wherever that is, my quiet calm suddenly becomes panic again. I can feel my lungs start to squeeze, and my throat is closing up.
Dammit.
I stopped the attack this morning, but it is going to come out whether I want it to or not. Placing my hand on my chest, I try to regulate my breathing, but it’s not happening without my inhaler, which is currently in the smashed-up van some forty minutes' drive away.
“Cara?” Enzo’s voice cuts into my panic. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head. “Asthma. No inhaler.”
As soon as I say the words, it makes it more real that I’ve been dragged into a situation without my inhaler when I need it most.
“Get her inside,” he barks to one of his men, calmly taking me by the arm and helping me out of the van.
Trent is hovering nearby, keeping his distance after I purred at him. I don’t know what came over me. What an idiot. He must think I’m some crazy nympho or something.
Looking up to distract myself, I see a big country mansion with a circular driveway. Very fancy, but now is hardly the time to take in the beauty of the place. My breath is coming in shallow pants, and the panic is becoming real. Tears prick my eyes, and my hands start to flap about as it becomes impossible to draw air into my lungs. There just isn’t any.
“Help,” I rasp, looking around frantically for anyone to fix this.
“Here,” Enzo says, appearing by my side. He uncaps the inhaler and places it in my mouth. He pumps as I inhale, and together we manage to sort out the attack before it gets any worse.
“You have asthma,” I accuse him.
He smirks. “This is my spare inhaler; keep it while you are here.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, taking it from him and taking another puff.
