There’s silence as the car screams out of the drive, more dust flying into the air. It’s the most irrational behaviour I’ve ever given in to. It makes me feel like I’m seventeen again, a smile tipping the corner of my mouth as we head out onto the freeway and I rev the damn thing faster.
She doesn’t speak. There’s nothing but the occasional gasp, her fingers clinging on to the seat as if we’re about to crash any second. We might. For once I don’t give a fuck. I’m out of control, barely giving any thought to my priorities as we speed faster towards Chicago.
“Where are we going?” she eventually braves, one hand now clinging to the seat-belt.
“Out.”
It’s all I’ve got. I don’t know where, and the skyline coming into view doesn’t help me offer her any clarity. Boots and a coat first, then we’ll walk the riverwalk. Grab a coffee. Talk, maybe. She must be going mad holed up in my house permanently and it’ll do me good to get some fresh air away from the grounds. That’s it as far as I’m concerned. No plans. No procedures. No looking over my shoulder and negotiating the next move, concerned for the fate of my family. We’ll just be alive for the day, see where that shit takes us.
We pull up outside a boutique on Oak Street, and I barely offer her time to breathe before getting her out and marching her inside. A startled woman looks her over, her manicured appearance disgusted with what I’m presenting.
“Boots, coat, scarf and hat,” I snap, not caring for a conversation about Emily’s unkempt appearance. She’s got more about her than this bitch could ever offer.
She raises a brow at me and wanders off, seemingly irritated with my invasion into her sanctuary of calm, but returns with a selection of upper class garments. Emily’s eyes brighten, but she’s nervous, unsure. I can tell by the way she’s fucking fiddling with her sweater. I nod at her, giving her the confirmation she needs to take a closer look at the sophisticated clothes on offer. She reaches for the cream coat, taking it from the bitch's hands. Fine. I throw my card at the woman, amused as she tries to catch it.
“Get dressed, Emily,” I say, still watching the uptight bitch frown at Emily. Fuck her.
When the debacle has righted itself and I’ve had fuck knows how much money taken from me, I turn to see Emily staring out of the shop window. It’s a picture in itself. One I would have drawn myself years ago. High collar, a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, a slouched beanie at an angle, and heeled boots that make me lick my lips and imagine no clothing at all.
“You ready?” I ask, coming up behind her.
She turns, a warm smile coming from her as she nods out the window.
“It’s huge out there. Chicago, I mean.” I smirk at her, wondering where the hell she thought she was. Everything here is huge. “I’ve never been to America. I don’t know what I thought, but it’s real. It was dark last time we came in. I couldn’t see the scale of everything.” I open the door, my hand waving her through as I snatch at a pair of leather gloves on the counter beside me.
“Sir, you can’t…”
“Sue me,” I mutter back, more interested in the ass that’s walking back to the car as I slam the door and quicken to catch up. “No, we’re walking from here,” I say, grabbing her and turning her in the other direction. She flinches in my hold, a confused look marring her smile of moments ago.
“You don’t have to grab me all the time. I’ll follow you, Quinn.” I ease my fingers, suddenly realising their constant grip on her. “It’s not like I can go anywhere without you, is it?” I chuckle at that and look along the street, still wondering what the fuck I’m doing here. “So, where are we going?” I don’t know, but I want her next to me as we go there.
I start walking, winding my way through the crowds of shoppers, and turn my head to look back at her. She’s staring upwards, her body bumping into everything she’s not looking at. It makes me growl and reach back for her hand, pulling her closer to me as I head to the coffee shop in the square.
“The light,” she says. “Look at it, Quinn. It’s amazing. The glass reflects it beautifully.”
I don’t look. I keep hauling her ass through the people, occasionally frowning at someone who barges into her because she’s still not looking where she’s damn well going.
“Emily,” I snap, watching her feet tripping over themselves for the tenth time. She gasps, the sudden realisation that she’s lost her balance catching up with her, loose arm flailing. I snatch her to me, levering her from the pavement before she hits it fully. “Jesus, woman. Your mother never teach you to walk?”
She pants in my hold, her lips inches from mine as I stare into those different coloured eyes of hers.
“Not … not in these heels,” she says, the words fluttering softly from her lips. I look at them, barely restraining the need to kiss them and forget Anton’s cock buried inside them. They’re my lips now. Nothing else is going anywhere near them. Not one other thing but me and my body will touch those dirty, beautiful, full, soft lips again. My tongue licks my own, remembering the gagging sound she makes when I’m balls-deep in her mouth, the way she whimpers as I tighten my hands on her, then moans my name. “You can let go now,” she says quietly.
The sound of her brings me back to the present. I shake my head, amused at my mind wanderings, and then search the area.
She’s sitting on a bench within seconds, pressed onto it by my hands.
“Don’t run, Emily. I’m warning you. Chicago’s not nice to pretty things who don’t know what they’re doing.” She frowns for a second then nods, but she’s got that look of tenacity that comes every now and then, the same one that came when she fought the Russians off. “I’m serious, Em. You sit here and wait for me. I’ll be back in a minute or two. You run and I’ll find you. The result won’t be nice.”
She smiles. I don’t know why, but her second nod gives me more assurance that she’s understood me. I back off, all the time watching her as she watches me, until I finally trust her not to run and turn into the crowds. She’d be stupid to try it anyway. Where can she go? She’s got no money, no hope other than what I offer her.
The only way she’s ever getting home is if I release her, and, at the moment, that’s not happening any time soon.
Chapter Sixteen
I watch as Quinn mingles between passers-by and gets lost in the crowd. I could do it. Run. Or at least try to escape. He wouldn’t be able to find me quick enough to stop me reaching the police. Or would he?
He’s been all over the place the last couple of days. I don’t even know how to start understanding his behaviour or his mood. I snuggle further into my coat, the soft material of the scarf cutting down the chill. One minute I’m a possession for him to use and disregard as he pleases, then next he’s comforting me. Although, whether comfort was Quinn’s intention, I’m not sure.
My head feels scrambled. There’s a connection between us, an almost invisible line that pulls us together. My body wants one thing, but my sanity implores me to see sense and understand that this will never end well.
My eyes gaze at the tall buildings lining the river. It’s more beautiful than I thought Chicago would be. The sun is bright, and the blue sky could be that of a summer day, rather than the start of winter.
I stand up, a sudden rush of courage telling me I need to try everything in my power to escape, but it’s fleeting. What can I do? What options do I have? No passport, no money or credit cards. Will anyone believe me? Or will they think I entered the country illegally and lock me in a cell for the next however long?
My knees bend and I sit back down. Maybe staying with Quinn for a few more days is the right decision. I can talk to him, make him see that taking me home is the right thing to do.
“Here.” A cup of steaming coffee is thrust into my hands.
“Thank you.” I clutch it and wait for Quinn to sit.
“I also got you this.” He pulls a box out of a bag. A box with a picture of a Canon EOS 5D on the front. My lips spread across my fa
ce and a jolt of joy warms me from the inside out.
“Quinn, this is…” I’m not sure what to say, that edge of confusion chipping away at my initial excitement. What does this mean? More money on my debt.
“It’s something to keep you occupied. You’ve been held up at home too long. Take some photos.”
“It’s very generous considering I'm working off a debt to you. Can’t I give the gifts back and take it from my total?” I know it’s unkind not to be grateful, but I don’t think those rules apply when talking to your kidnapper.
A scowl crosses his face, and I regret my words. I should be thankful that Quinn was looking to try to ease my comfort.
“It’s a gift, not a fucking negotiation.”
I nod and fumble with the box, trying to open it with my gloves on. Quinn snatches it away and opens it, pulling out the camera.
“Wait, won’t it need charging?”
“It’s covered.” He doesn’t do anything else but hand me the camera. I flick the on button and see it’s already set up.
“Thank you. I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. But it’s very confusing. One minute you’re giving me to someone else, the next you’re giving me gifts.”
Another set of frown lines rivet his forehead.
“Come on. We’re going to walk.” He stands and shoves the bag and box into a nearby bin.
I put the camera strap over my head and pick up my cup of coffee. If I look around and force my mind to cooperate, I could be on another date.
“I’m glad you didn’t run. I wouldn’t have liked having to track you down.”
“Okay.”
“Take pictures. Do what you’d normally do. Entertain me.”
I sip my coffee and hand him the cup to hold before I line up a couple of shots. It’s awkward, like he’s assessing me for something, but this is the first taste of normality in the longest week of my life. I can’t give it up.
Ten minutes later, I’m in my element. Quinn doesn’t hurry me or move me along. He just stands and watches as I do something I love. And that love infuses every cell of my body, building a small wall against anything else that can happen to me here. Quinn wants me to have this. He can’t be the monster he’s making out if he then gives me something that offers me such joy. It also proves he was listening on our original date, and not just planning to terrorise me.
I turn around and try to take a photo of Quinn, but he gives me a look that would stop anyone in their tracks. I walk the few feet back to him and take my lukewarm coffee rather than pushing the issue.
“Can we find somewhere to sit down? My feet aren’t going to last in these heels.”
“You should get used to walking in heels. I like you in them.”
The flush on my cheeks is unexpected. After everything he’s done to my body, a simple compliment makes me blush. “Here.” I gesture to another bench dotted along the edge of the river. I don’t wait and go and sit.
“Are you close to your brothers, and please don’t keep looking at me like I’ve said something horrendous? I’m trying to make conversation. Whatever this is we’re doing, it was your plan.” I’m pleased that my voice shows no sign of intimidation.
“Fine. Yes, I guess we are close. To a degree. Nate yes, as he works for me, but Josh, less so.”
“Nate seems… nice.”
“Nice? What the hell makes you think he’s nice?” He chuckles and looks bemused. “There’s nothing nice about any of us.”
“Well, he didn’t like you calling me dirty girl, and he wanted me to eat. So...”
“And that’s enough, is it?” He shakes his head and stares away for a few moments, looking into the distance. “You like me calling you dirty girl. That’s all that should matter.” He leans back to me, mouth hovering around my ear. “Gets you wet for more of me inside you.” He snorts at my frown, then turns away, back to the view. “Nate might be the more decent of the two of us, but it doesn’t stop him having his fun with his whores, Emily. Make no mistake. He’s the same breed as I am.”
“And what about Josh?”
“Josh is little more than a spoilt child with a big bank balance.”
“But he’s different than you two. He makes me feel uncomfortable in a way that you and Nate don’t.”
“Well, at least some of your senses are working.” He holds out his hand for me, and I take it. “Come on.” My hand settles in his grasp, and an odd feeling of security washes through me. I know how dangerous Quinn must be. If he wanted something truly terrible to happen to me, he would have done that already. He wouldn’t be here with me now. It’s the shred of comfort that keeps my sanity in check.
“Were you always like this?”
“Define this? This tall, this handsome, this charming?” He offers me a genuine smile, and I’m reminded of how attractive he is, his flawless face, except for that small scar on his chin. His smile blinded all of my senses once. It does it again, making me giggle at his playfulness.
“No, that must be in your genes. I mean a gangster. Is that what they call you? I’m not sure, but from what I’ve seen that’s what I’d call you.”
“I told you, I’m a businessman.”
“Yes, but your business doesn’t seem to be all that legal.”
“Owning casinos isn’t against the law.”
“Yes, but you introduced me to the Russian Mafia. I’m pretty sure working with them is. You kidnapped me, for god’s sake.”
He squeezes my hand at that remark, a shot of pain racing up my arm.
“Keep your voice down. I am not a gangster. We’re not in the 1940s.”
“How did you get your scar?”
“What’s with all the damn questions?”
“Conversation,” I reply, waiting for a response from him. He scowls and looks out at the river, refusing to answer. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
I can’t help the pang of disappointment. If I know Quinn, maybe I can rationalise some of his behaviour. Understand why I react to him in the way that I do.
We continue down the path for a little longer, my hand still in his. The ache in the balls of my feet starts to throb and the enjoyment of the outing fades.
“The scar was the start of it. My introduction into Cane life,” he suddenly says. My brows shoot up, wondering why he’s changed his mind.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s evidence of my first kill. He came at me from behind.”
“Who?”
“The man my father sent me to finish.” He chuckles at my wide eyes. “We don’t live in the world you do, Emily. Haven’t done for a long time.”
“You let your father push you around then?” He scowls again, huffing at the question and leading us over to the rails overlooking the river.
“Not pushed around.” He leans over the rail, looking out across the expanse of water. “It was expected of me, Em. It became my job.” I gaze at him, wondering what that life must have been like. “If it wasn’t me, it would have fallen to Nate or Josh.”
“So you did it to protect them from this life?” He doesn’t answer that. He sighs. “So they didn’t have to do what you do?”
My eyes scan his face as I wait for an answer, desperate for him to show me more of him. As if drawn like a magnet, my fingers come up to trace the line of his jaw and his scar. Such a little mark, but I now know the significance of it. His stubble scratches on the pad of my thumb as I rub against it.
“What are you doing?” he asks, snatching my hand away and grabbing my wrist.
“Trying to get to know you. You’re hard to understand, Quinn, and I need to try and figure this all out.”
“There’s nothing to work out. You’re here for my amusement. That’s all.”
Every time he says something like that, it crushes the bubble of hope I’ve been building.
“If that’s true, what’s the point of all this?” I hold up the camera with my free arm. “Huh? You gave me something that has given me happiness. You’ve spent thousands of
pounds on me even though I’m supposed to be paying you back. Help me understand, Quinn.”
“Dollars.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dollars. I spent dollars.” He lets my arm go and looks back out over the river.
Frustration burns through me, extinguishing the joy from a few moments ago.
“You are a constant contradiction, you know that? You threaten and intimidate, but then your actions betray you. I can feel this between us.” I gesture between us, hoping to make my point clear. “It’s not in my imagination. You know it isn’t. And I think you’re taking your anger at that out on me.”
He pushes off the rail, but I don’t get an answer.
“Come on, Quinn. I’m just trying to understand.” Still no response as I try to keep up with his lengthening strides. He stops abruptly, swinging his gaze back to me.
I won’t let this go. It’s the first real glimpse of the man I met on our date and that’s who I need more of. That’s how I’ll survive this.
“Why did you hit your brother?” My fingers wrap around his right hand. “I think you protect people that you care about. You may not see it, but I’d like to believe that. That deep down you want more for the people you care for than what you have.”
“You think I’m protecting you?” He tilts his head, studying me.
“In your own way, yes.” I smile, knowing I’ve managed to make him think for a moment. “It doesn’t have to stop at protection. You can build a happier life, away from what your father pushed you into.”
“I’m a Cane, Emily. There’s nothing else but that.”
“Your name is important to you, isn’t it?”
“I’ve built an empire around it. It means something. It’s more than just a name, Emily.” He’s quiet for a moment, and I realise I’ve pushed too far. “I think we’re done for today. You’ll fall off those heels soon. Come.”
And just like that, we’re heading back to the car.
Quinn broods all the way home. Or at least it’s my interpretation of brooding. He doesn’t look my way, doesn’t engage in conversation and keeps a death grip on the steering wheel. Of course, I’m happy about the last part. This car is a death trap in his hands.
Innocent Eyes Page 15
