After my argument with Reid and his brothers yesterday, and the shitshow the night before, I’m feeling distinctly claustrophobic in the vastness of Barrett’s mansion and the rambling estate that Ilya has staked as his own. The Russians have secured the property in the last twenty-four hours, and I need to get away, if only for a short reprieve.
When I’m nodded through the gates by two guards carrying assault rifles, I take my first full breath in what seems like an age. I put my foot on the gas, and as I head into town, I fight the urge to cry. I did enough crying after finishing my call with the Griffins. Hearing Ash describe what Ilya had probably done to Blake had tipped me over the edge. Every word rang true. A truth I’ve been denying for too long.
I’d told Reid that Blake looked waif-like when I’d last seen her, but a better description would be that she was a ghost of her former self. Whatever depraved acts Ilya had been forcing her to perform, had haunted her. Could she survive a whole year of that? I still can’t face the alternative.
Heading straight to the grocery store, I grab some supplies. Clara had organized a regular delivery before she left, but it’s junk I’m craving. I briefly consider picking up a bottle of rosé at the liquor store to settle my nerves, but I don’t want to use alcohol as an emotional crutch. Substance abuse destroyed our mother, and Blake and I had always promised never to suffer the same fate.
I can remember the look of disgust on my sister’s face whenever she smelled tequila. She said it reminded her of Mom’s breath. It reminded me of regular beatings and empty cupboards. In contrast, chocolate and Pringles resurrect memories of cold winter nights huddled under the covers with my little sister as we devoured the food we’d occasionally bought, but more often stole.
As I load up my Jeep, I’m constantly aware of my surroundings. As much as I fear the Russians, right now I’m more concerned that Reid’s going to kidnap me in broad daylight. That’s why I have his Glock hidden beneath my denim jacket. I feel comforted by its weight.
I’d been unsure if I could ever pull the trigger on someone, but after what happened in the woods, now I know. I feel no remorse for protecting myself and those I care about. People like Reid. I killed for him, and I’d do it again. But that doesn’t mean I won’t pull a gun on him if he gets in my way.
I’m about to get in the car and head back to the estate when I notice a familiar shade of purple hair. Tandy comes out of her mom’s coffee shop and makes a beeline for me.
“What are you doing back here?” I ask, pulling away from her hug and checking out her waitress uniform. This isn’t a social visit.
“It was so boring in Connecticut,” she huffs. “And as lovely as it was to get paid for hanging around doingnothing, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stick it out. I handed in my notice yesterday and Barrett said I could go whenever I liked. So here I am.”
“Did Clara come back too?” I ask, trying not to build up my hopes. Or be selfish. I miss her friendship, but she’s better off away from here.
“No, she’s happy staying where she is,” Tandy says with a shrug. “She’s still convinced we’re in mortal danger from the Griffins. Personally, I think Barrett is just being a wimp. He should try dealing with some of the biker gangs we get passing through.”
“You’re not planning on asking him for your job back at the house, are you?”
Tandy pulls a face. “He took that option off the table before I’d even asked, but to be honest, if it’s just another big, empty house, I’ll give it a miss anyways. I’d rather keep busy,” she says, scrunching her nose. “What’s it like there now it’s been furnished? Are you eating off solid gold plates at a mile-long dining table with crystal chandeliers sparkling overhead?”
“Not quite, but you’re right about the chandeliers.”
She rolls her eyes. “And now it’s lying empty, pretty much like the house in Connecticut. Barrett has more money than sense,” she says before casting her gaze back to the coffee shop. It’s lunchtime and business is picking up. “I really should get back, but it’s lovely seeing you. Let’s catch up soon. You can tell me how badly Jason is pining after Clara.”
“I’d love that,” I say, and I’m surprised how much I mean it. Normal life seems utterly out of reach right now.
A knot of anxiety twists my insides as I leave town and take the road leading back to Barrett’s estate. I tap out adrum beat on the steering wheel. “You’re going to be fine,” I tell myself.
“You will if you do as I say.”
My body jerks in shock and the Jeep careens across the road before I’m able to correct my steering. Luckily the road was clear.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” I yell, brakes screeching as I pull over to the side of the road.
My heart is in my throat, my mind racing, but I’ve prepared for moments like this. My hand goes to the Glock, and my finger curls around the trigger as I twist in my seat and take aim.
“This time, Reid…” I take a gulp of air. “This time, I really am going to fucking kill you. I nearly killed us both for fuck’s sake.”
Reid unfurls himself from behind my seat, shrugs off the blanket he was hiding beneath, and collapses onto the back seat. “I waited until the road was quiet.”
I’m not listening. I don’t care. “Get out.”
“Quinn, I just–”
I’m shaking with fury, but I keep my hand lethally steady. “Get. Out. Now.”
He leans forward, his eyes never leaving mine as he presses his chest to the barrel of the gun. “No.”
My vision wobbles through shimmering tears. They’re just angry tears, I tell myself. “You’re not ruining this for me.”
“I’m not ruining anything, Quinn. You’re the one self-sabotaging.”
