Putting their coffees down in front of them, I stay on my feet. “Why don’t we go upstairs? I don’t want to be down here in case Sergey gets back.”
They are both standing up before I’ve finished speaking.
“Where is he?” Kade asks, automatically adjusting himself so he’s more focused and less friendly. Falling straight into the role he said he would, as a guard.
“Apparently on a business trip.”
Santiago wears how he feels about the situation on his face, not hiding anything. He doesn’t need to ask any more questions to tell me he’s completely offended at what Sergey did. Except he’s an Alpha, and they deal differently. He tips his head to the side, his eyes becoming colder by the second. “And you were left completely alone? No guards and no staff here?”
“I have Nalla and the black dog. But yes, no humans were here.”
His anger rips through the room like a storm sweeping in. I have to breathe slowly through my mouth. But as quick as it started, the onset of his sudden emotion fades and is replaced by his sweet amber scent. And then Kade also reacts. His perfume is more subtle but no less powerful, and together, they intertwine into a unique cinnamon-amber scent that makes my insides dance, whispering of safety and protection.
Together, they become a better version of each other, giving me exactly what I need from my scent-matched mates. It’s a solid reminder, a really freaking nice one, but I’m already dealing with so much. That small reminder pushes me over the edge.
I walk out into the hallway, giving us a chance to work through the issue without the influence of scents and designations. The dogs are already on either side of me. I wait in the hallway for Kade and Santiago to join me before I pop my head back in to make sure I locked the back door. I don’t even glance at the man who attacked me before flicking the lights off and pulling the door to a close, checking the handle to make sure it’s locked before leading them back to the foyer.
I keep walking, and they follow quietly. It feels so normal having them close, and I need to figure out if that’s a good thing, or if that’s me being selfish as fuck.
Stopping at the entrance to the living room, I point inside. “My room is across the hall. I don’t use the first two bedrooms, but if you need to rest, you could use them.”
“This is fine, Quinn,” Kade says, but I cut him off.
“There’s a kitchenette and television, so help yourself to them.”
“What are you going to be doing?”
I blow out a noisy exhale at Santiago’s question, trying to figure out the best way of answering it. “Trying to decide what the hell I am going to do about you both being here. I can’t do that while we’re in the same room.”
The unsaid reasons hang in the air between us as obvious as their scents. Taking a deep inhale of the beautiful, tainted air around them, I keep my expression as blank as possible as I cover my hand over my mouth, talking fast to get everything out before I lock myself in my room. “I don’t know if my room is bugged, or if I’m being watched. There’s going to be situations that come up that you won’t like, but I need you to always remember, no matter what, that I’m here by choice. Whatever we had previously isn’t on the table and won’t be again. I think we all need some time apart to think about this.”
And then I lock myself in my room.
Chapter Eighteen
KADE
Since she shut the door behind her, I’ve felt like ants are crawling over my skin. I know Quinn. Her coping strategy is a brutal combination of isolation and disregard. What she is doing now is nothing new, and while I’m out here, it doesn’t mean I want to be. I’m fighting a constant battle of giving her the space she so desperately wants while knowing I should be in there with her, forcing her to admit we are way more than friends.
Santiago is absorbed in his own thoughts, and the silence is a relief, but it doesn’t stop the unease I’m feeling.
He wasn’t quiet before; he was pushing hard for answers. I get he wants information on how she knows Victor, but in my mind, how they know each other is irrelevant. Santiago is saying he’s here for her, but when it's just me and him talking, he constantly contradicts himself because he can’t let the Victor thing drop.
Each time I bring it up, he twists his own frustration at himself back on me, throwing around comments suggesting I’m here for my career or to gather evidence, despite me telling him differently. Honestly, I’ve ignored each barb he’s thrown my way. I’m not getting into it with him. I’m not here for him.
Quinn’s right—each of us needs to figure out if staying is going to work for us individually. Especially after she laid out the future so clearly.
Does it make me a sap for her that I’d take this over not being in her life? That spending time in her presence, while she’s married to someone else, is worth more than not seeing her? Am I going to be happy with never touching her again?
Every answer is the same—I’m staying, and I will quickly become the best bodyguard she's ever had. Hopefully ever will have. I’ve got a solid handle on how organized crime syndicates are set up; they’re a law unto themselves and follow a strict hierarchy. If Quinn is marrying the head of a Russian syndicate, she’s going to be granted security. It goes with the territory of being allied to someone powerful.
Deep in thought, I’m still entirely focused on everything happening around me, so the light-colored dog standing up and trotting down the hallway is cause for notice. The way the black dog adjusts his position stirs more than notice through my awareness. I follow the direction it takes as it moves without making a sound. Outside, the wind is howling, but years of working on the force means I can block outside distractions. From deep inside the house, a noise whispers, causing me to retrace my steps back to the sitting room.
Santiago is out of his chair already, waiting for an update. I use hand gestures, letting him know we’ve got incoming.
It might be nothing, but I doubt it. Checking that my weapons are where they should be, I ignore the black dog’s showof his teeth as he attempts to block my entry and reach past him to open her door.
I wave him in first, and he circles the room, then jumps up onto the bed where Quinn is sleeping. The jostle of the bed has her waking up in a rush of noise and movement.
