She thinks I killed her. I want to, God, I want to kill the bitch. It’s what I had intended on doing on the drive to the Delaney home, but I knew Quinn would feel it deeply, and that bitch has caused her too many tears already. "Nobody knows. She left yesterday morning and hasn't been in contact since, but we’re looking for her."
"Did you threaten my parents?" She asks.
My lips twitch. That wasn’t what I had expected her to say. "Yes."
"Both of them?"
"Yes."
She breathes. "Lorenzo?—"
"Your mother tried to dismiss a death threat as Daire being emotional. I didn't touch her this time. I made it very clear what would happen if Daire follows through on what she wrote."
Quinn is quiet for a moment, and I know that she’s trying to deal with the fact that her sister is very likely to end up dead soon, because we both know that bitch isn’t going to stop her sadistic shit.
"I'm not going to apologize for it," I say.
"I'm not asking you to," she sighs, bringing her knees to her chest. "I'm just adjusting. It's strange, having someone deal with it for me. I've been managing Daire for so long that watching someone else handle it feels like something I should stop."
"You don't have to stop it," I tell her. "What happened to you in that house wasn't normal. I need you to understand that, to believe that.” She's quiet, and heaviness hits my chest. "Quinn?"
"I know it wasn't normal," she whispers. "Logically, I know that."
"But?"
She releases a harsh breath. "But that's all I've ever known. I spent so long adjusting to it that I stopped noticing what I was adjusting to."
"I know," I say.
She looks at me with an expression I've been learning to read over the past weeks. It means she has something she wants to ask, something she isn't sure is allowed to.
"Ask," I say.
Her eyes are filled with fear and pain. "Do you think she'll actually try something?"
"I think Daire has been escalating, and I don't know why or what caused it, but what I know is that I don’t believe that she’ll leave you be."
I watch as her eyes fill with tears. I fucking hate that bitch, Daire. She’s caused Quinn enough pain to last her a lifetime.
“Come here,” I instruct, and she doesn’t hesitate. She gets to her feet and walks over to where I’m sitting. I reach for her and pull her onto my lap, my arms wrapping around her and holding her tight. "No more managing things alone," I say, and when she goes to protest, I add, "That's not a suggestion."
She raises an eyebrow slightly. "Is it an order?"
"It's a promise I'm asking you to make." I hold her gaze. "If she contacts you, if anyone contacts you on her behalf, if something feels wrong, you tell me. Immediately, with no exceptions."
"And if I decide it's something small and I can handle it?—"
"You tell me, and then you decide that," I say, cutting her off. "But you tell me first."
She looks at me for a long moment. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" She asks.
"No."
"You're very annoying," she says, her lips twitching.
"I've been told that before."
Her brows furrow and the almost smile she had vanishes. "By who?"
