Innocent Eyes

by Charlotte E Hart

  “I told you I don’t want that.” No, but I do. I’m fucking desperate to give her some of this wealth. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of the debt I still feel I owe her for saving my life, dead brother or not. “Besides, it’s extortionate here. Have you seen London prices lately? It nearly kills me every month to pay the rent on this and the house.”

  “Why bother then?” She spins on me so quick I take a step back from her feisty little face, arching a brow at the attitude. “You don’t need to. I’ve told you. You can have anything you want.”

  “It’s mine, Quinn. I built it. I run it. Mine, do you understand? I’ll pay the money myself.” I chuckle and move around her, amused at her tone and loving her all the more for it. Shooting a man seems to have solidified whatever passion I knew was hiding there. My dirty girl’s turned into a hellcat since that night. “Do you?” she asks again, her arm linking through mine as she catches up. “Because I have to be my own person, Quinn. You know that, right?” I nod and weave us through the crowds around Pimlico, heading for the restaurants and bars. “It won’t work if you don’t respect me.” She has more of my respect than anyone has ever had. She had that the moment she shot my brother to protect me, and then again in my bedroom when she told me she loved me. Not that she needs to know, she owns every next fucking breath that comes from my lungs. Debt or not. “It’s all about trust and respect, Quinn. Love is like that.” Is it?

  I frown and keep going, swiping at my phone as it buzzes with a text from Shifty.

  Boys set for starting security tonight, boss. Where shall I meet you for keys?

  I send one back telling him to meet us in The Galley House Restaurant in fifteen minutes and asking if he’s found Jenny yet.

  Yes. She’s being kept at the warehouse on Piermont Lane.

  Good. I smile and flick the phone into my pocket, amused that the deceitful little bitch has finally been located. Shifty can have his fun for a while before I ask Emily what she wants to do with that information.

  “So, where are we going?” she asks, her heels clacking the pavement as she starts walking backwards in front of me. “I’ve shown you some of London, but what else do you want to see?”

  “I’m hardly a tourist, Em.”

  “I know, but this is nice. These past few days have been…” I catch her before her feet tumble her straight into the road, righting her back to facing forward.

  “Your walking ability still needs work.”

  “I know. Thank you. Anyway, I was saying.” She giggles, making my fucking hand slide into hers for some reason. “There are all these places you can’t possibly have seen. Nice places. Places where no gangster stuff happens. Normal and...” I stop and push her against the nearest wall, smothering her mouth with my own before she forgets who she’s fallen for. Love or not, I am still a Cane. Life with me will never be roses and laughter. Half this damn city owes me something and my gun is still under this jacket. Always will be.

  She gasps as I increase my pressure on her, my knee finding its way between her thighs and grinding into her as I tighten my hold. Then that damn whimper comes, the one that does all kinds of things to my dick. If we weren’t out here on the sidewalk I’d fuck her where she stands.

  I pull away eventually, too wound up to think about what the fuck I was trying to achieve in the first place.

  “What was that for?” she asks breathlessly.

  “Cane.” She looks confused. It’s not fucking surprising. I am, too. Have been since the night she killed my brother and I felt something other than hate because of it. “There will always be shit to deal with, Emily. Business doesn’t stop because of you. It never will.”

  She nods, her face falling from the happy look it had minutes ago. Tough. I can do no more than I am doing for our future, my family’s included.

  “Always?”

  “Always.” In my lifetime, anyway.

  A soft sigh comes from her as she wraps her arms around herself and looks away from me up the road.

  “Isn’t there a way out, at all?”

  “No. Not for me.”

  The next generation will have that blessing, but not mine. We’ll keep battling our entire lives regardless of my push for modernisation, always half in the shadows and wondering what old fucking ghosts will haunt us next. Maybe it will be less criminal in some ways, but I’m no fucking fool. Clean or not, we will still have to deal with our past.

  She nods again and pushes off the wall, brightening her features and pointing along the crowds to our destination.

  “We should make the most of our time, then.” We should. She’s right, because when I leave I’m still not sure if I’m coming back or not. “When are you flying back to Chicago?” Her voice is hesitant and I can hear sadness in it.

  “When I’m ready.” I’m not. Not yet.

  “Okay. Well, do you like the cinema?”

  I shake my head at her, wondering when the hell the last time was that I went to see a movie and take hold of her hand again.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes. Especially chick flicks, but not as much as live theatre or concerts. Have you ever been?”

  We keep walking, part of me not listening to a word she’s saying and another part fascinated with every damn word. She’s like a breath of fresh air, untainted and yet one of us simply by her actions. Not that she did anything other than kill to protect. But I guess that’s all I’ve done through these years. Protect what’s mine and the things I love.

  The restaurant comes into view a while later. It’s one I’ve never been to, but the grapevine in London says it’s the best. The first response when I called was that there wasn’t availability. Money seemed to change that opinion. I told her I’d take her to dinner if she woke lucid, treat her properly. I meant it. Especially after she stood up to me and told me of a life that could be made to happen. That damned life might not be fucking perfect, but she’ll get the best I can give until I work out how the hell to make all this fit together.

  “Really?” she asks, her hands flustering around her clothes, as she looks up at the venue. “I’m not dressed for this, Quinn. Couldn’t we go…”

  I’ve grabbed her arm and headed her for the door before she gets a chance to finish her sentence. This is what she’ll have to damn well get used to, along with the heels she’ll have to learn to walk in.

  “Get used to it, Em. You’re with me now.” Maybe. I don’t fucking know, but she’ll hold her damn head high regardless. “Your clothes don’t mean a damn thing.” She trips over something, making me roll my fucking eyes. I snatch her up and nod at the doorman. “Your walk, however, does.”

  She giggles and runs her hand down to mine, crinkling her eyes as she smiles back and straightens herself.

  We’re shown to a table by the window, looking out over the hustle of the town. I smile at the view and wonder how long I can keep this going before I have to get back to Chicago. Marco’s already emailing me. New deals to discuss. And Nate’s now pissed, probably needing guidance on forward momentum.

  “You need to go, don’t you?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “Back.” She lowers her eyes to the table, searching the menu. “I’m not stupid, Quinn. And this has been lovely, but I heard your tone with Nate. I’m sure he needs to know what’s happened.” I don’t answer. I pick up my own menu and look at it, not ready to discuss anything other than food. It can all go to hell until I’ve had some time with her. Time to think. Time to make sure she’s okay. “You can, go I mean. It’s okay. We’ll find a way.” She frowns and takes a gulp of some water. “If you want to.”

  The whisper of her last words makes me reach across and grab her fingers, still unable to tell her the entirety of how I feel, but not wanting any hint of that frown on her beautiful face. Red scar or not.

  “You still want me, and I’ll come back, Em.” She smiles and tightens her fingers in mine, a small nod at the thought. “You’re right, though. There’s business that need
s dealing with. Nate’s one of those problems.”

  “He’ll hate me,” she says, anguish clear in her eyes. No he won’t. He won’t hate anything I love, but it will take time.

  A waiter arrives and takes our order, bringing with him a selection of wines. I choose one and send him away, wanting to keep the conversation private.

  “So, cinema?” she asks, darting back to our earlier conversation and avoiding the harsher line of reality.

  Fuck the movies. Fuck anything that has anything to do with me not being inside her in the next couple of hours. That’s all I want. It’s all I’ve wanted these last few days. Well, that and watching her smile as she tries to put what she did behind her. She still scrubs her hands too viciously for my liking. Still stares at her reflection for too long in the mirror, questioning herself. Trouble is, she’ll never wipe that shit away. I haven’t managed it yet either. Blood sticks, no matter the reason why you shed it.

  “How about going home so you can suck my dick instead,” I say, not caring about the date we’re supposedly on.

  She laughs, brightening up the damn room. It’s a laugh I want with me for a long while yet. One I’ll make a point of coercing out of her as often as I can, regardless of this world I live in, her too now. That’s all I’ve got to give her to help her forget. “You can toss my dice, try and get those three fucking words you’re after out of me again.”

  She will one day.

  Not without trying my damn patience first, though.

  “One day you’ll answer a question of mine without me having to dig.”

  “Maybe, but we do have some business to discuss.”

  “Oh?” she pipes up, looking half anxious, half intrigued.

  “I have Jenny locked up in a warehouse. What do you want to do with her?” She gawps at me, her mouth opening and closing. “Shifty’s having his fun before you decide what she deserves.”

  “What she deserves?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let her go,” she snaps, tenacity hardening every feature she has.

  I frown, not understanding what the fuck she’s talking about. “Why would I do that?”

  “I paid the damn debt, Quinn. You call Shifty now and tell him to release her.”

  “No.”

  She stands up and throws her napkin on the table, ass swerving the tables before I know what’s fucking happening. I follow and have her back in my arms before she reaches the door, manoeuvring her along the hallway and into a quiet side room.

  “The fuck was that?” She shrugs from my hold, hands on hips like she owns the goddamn world around her.

  “You let her go or you can go to Chicago and not come back as far as I’m bloody concerned. I will not be complicit in this shit of yours.”

  She arches a brow back at me. The fucking venom that pours from her frame makes my dick stir. It’s as arousing as the decency that comes from her on most occasions, making me want to do all kinds of shit to her.

  “You want to let her get away with it?”

  “Get away with what, Quinn? She’s the reason we’re here together now. Without her none of this would have happened. I love you. You think that’s something I want revenge for? I’m not like you. My first thought isn’t revenge. You might not be able to change, but I sure as hell won’t for you. I’ve fallen far enough into your world.”

  The fucking decency of the words floor me, my own mouth not having any damn answers to throw at her no matter how much I want to argue my point. “You asked me what I want to do with her? I want to let her go, Quinn.” She glares at me. “Let. Her. Go.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Minutes pass, neither of us backing down on the topic. Quinn gave me a choice. He asked me what I wanted to do, and there’s no way I want him to keep her locked up like he did to me.

  “Fine,” he spits. His body turns away from mine, shielding the look of disgust I see cross his face. “Your choice.”

  He’s visibly pissed off, but I don’t care. I march past him back into the restaurant, satisfied that he’s actually listened to me. I’m still amazed he’d think I’d want to seek out revenge.

  He joins me at the table, and I wait for his next comment, my arms crossed defensively as I stare at him in challenge.

  “Have you done it?” His eyes flash to mine, that spark of annoyance that’s growing so familiar clear to see. “Now, Quinn,” I prompt.

  “You know what? Fuck this. This isn’t what being a Cane is about. The sooner you damn well learn that, the better.”

  He grabs me from across the table and hauls me back outside. I struggle to keep up, and the heels just make the steps treacherous as I fight to stay standing.

  “Slow down. What are we doing?”

  “I’m taking you to Jenny,” he snaps, aggression in his voice as he hauls me along. “You can’t just dismiss this decision like you have.”

  “Excuse me?” I rip my arm from his grip as we hit the pavement outside, halting my walk immediately. “Dismiss the decision?” He spins back to me, a frown etched in as he stares.

  “She set you up. Let you walk into a situation she knew wouldn’t end well. Otherwise she’d have taken your place, wouldn’t she? You’re being too damn weak about this.” Weak? Anger bubbles under my skin, along with resentment given everything he’s put me through to get here.

  “And then where would we be? Is that what you’d have preferred? Never to have met me?” I glare back, trying to give as good as I’m getting from him.

  “Em, listen to me.”

  “Don’t Em me.” I turn away, ready to leave whatever he thinks this is about, but he grabs my arm before I’ve got a chance to move.

  “You need to understand this. It’s a part of my world, what I have to deal with. You’ve already seen part of it. You want us to have a future?” I stare at him, part infuriated and part knowing exactly what’s happening here. “Well, this is part of me. You’ll fucking deal with it if I have to force you to do it. Prove you can.” His words echo the ugly truth I’ve been hiding from and trying to avoid. I thought the attack and consequences that happened with Josh was the lowest point—that I’d seen enough of the darkness of his world. I haven’t, and this is yet more proof of what’s coming for me going forward.

  Quinn pulls me through the street without any other discussion, his other hand holding his phone to his ear. He’s barking orders to Shifty, I guess. They’re all words I don’t want to hear as I try to push them away. Deal with it? I was dealing with it. I was dealing with it the best way I know how. Doing the right thing and countering this world he lives in. It seems that’s not good enough for him.

  Five minutes later, a car pulls up beside us, and we get in. I’ve not said a word to Quinn, understanding that this is something I have little say in. I might not agree with him, and I’m a lot more confident at standing up to him than I was, but I also know when to back down from his glare. This is one of those times.

  We travel for around half an hour, silence thick in the car. He’s kept my hand wrapped in his, as if trying to hold me together somehow. It’s a comfort I need because I can’t bear to think about what I’m going to walk in on when we arrive.

  The car eventually pulls to a stop outside of a run-down building. It looks deserted. Quinn slides from the car, not letting go of my hand. Our feet crunch against the gravel leading up to an old warehouse. Shifty is standing outside the small door to the side. He kicks at the loose stones and chippings, digging his feet into the ground. As he hears us approach, he straightens up and nods towards Quinn.

  “Boss,” he says, opening the door for us to enter.

  The metal clanks as he closes it behind us, the sound reverberating around the room. It’s a cavernous space with only a few crates and storage boxes littered around one wall, a few pendant lights casting an ominous gloom over the space.

  Quinn leads me across the hall and through another door. The irregular rhythm of my heels clacking against the cold concrete ring out loudly, building t
he anticipation stirring in my stomach.

  Shifty opens another door into a smaller room, also lit to little effect. I can make out the shape of a woman sitting on a chair in the centre of the room.

  Memories invade my mind—the cold, the pain and panic of not knowing where I was or what had happened to me.

  “Quinn?” My whisper is so quiet as I cling to his arm, afraid of the rabbit hole I’ve found myself falling into. All the pain and darkness oozes through my veins, snuffing out any of the hope I ever managed to cling to.

  “Em, you’re humming.” I stop my tune, not realising it was coming from me, and look at him as he brings his palm to my face and cups my cheek. He stands in front of me, crouching to get in my line of sight. “You’re stronger than you know,” he says quietly, a small smile gracing his lips. “You’ll have to be to survive my world, no matter how much I try to change it.” He smiles a little. “Deal with this.”

  His words snap me out of my panic, and I watch him step back towards the wall. I stare at him, still feeling his fingers in mine, and wonder how he felt the first time something like this happened for him. Fear, panic? Or maybe neither of those emotions crossed his mind.

  He throws a switch on the wall, and a buzzing accompanies the yellow light that floods the small space.

  “Emily!” Jenny’s voice cuts through my thoughts and focuses me on the scene now illuminated in front of me. “Oh, thank heavens,” she gushes at me.

  I take in the image of her and can’t help but note the difference between her and when I was in the same position. She’s bound to the chair; her feet tied together with duct tape. Her lips look red raw, her hair a mess, her clothes are ripped but still covering her. There are no makeup tracks, though. No real panic in her face.

  “Em, you have to talk to Shifty. Get me out of his place. He’s not told me anything, but I’m so pleased to see that you’re here to help.” She tries a version of a smile. It cracks her dry lips and a bright red spot forms on her top lip.