I let go of Quinn, remembering that she sent me to meet someone else and not Quinn himself. My feet close the distance between us and with every step, my confidence grows.
“You want me to get you out?” I ask. My voice is soft and quiet. Weak. But that’s just what I want her to see me as. Weak. She doesn’t know what I’ve had to do. What I can do, all thanks to her.
“Yes, yes. That’s why you’ve come, isn’t it? To explain that this has been a misunderstanding.”
“What part has been a misunderstanding, Jenny?” I stop in front of her, intrigued as to her answer.
“This.” She wriggles in the chair. “Keeping me here.”
“Shifty, can we untie her?” It’s like I’m in a daze suddenly, transfixed on the cold of the room, letting it surround me.
He looks towards Quinn, who nods, before coming back to cut Jenny’s ties.
“Thank you, Em. Oh, god, I’m so pleased to see you. How did you… It doesn’t matter.” She stands and wraps me in a hug. It feels staged. Awkward. And a growing part of me wants to lash out at her, demand answers to all the questions that have flown through my mind over the last few weeks.
“Come on, let's go,” she says, relief evident in her tone as she takes my hand. Metal scratches against my wrist, and I look down to see the charm bracelet that she stole from me. My grandmother’s precious bracelet.
My mind flashes a kaleidoscope of visions in front of me—all the blood, the gun, the fight with Quinn. All of it. It’s all because of Jenny. Quinn asked me a question before he dragged me here. It seemed so easy to answer. An obvious choice to be decent in this world. But here, now, watching the expression change on her face as she realises she isn’t going to get away with her actions and cheat me again, I’m not so sure it was ever the right choice to make.
Quinn said I need to be stronger. Well, I was strong for him. I protected him. I stood there and fired a gun to protect the man I love. I need to turn that around and make the same choice for me now, defend myself against her. He’s right; this needs dealing with.
“Why has all this happened?” I ask, my fingers still latched onto hers.
“Come on, Em. I’ll explain things when we’re out of here.”
“No, Jenny. Why?” Her whole demeanour shifts. She slouches into her body, the smile and falsity covering her face now dropped. “I want to know why, after everything you did, you felt it was your right to go back and steal from me? Wasn’t it enough that I took on your debt? That I paid with my own blood, my own skin?” She drops my hand and backs away a step.
“Oh, don’t be overdramatic, Em. It doesn’t suit you. I needed the money. The cash you gave me didn’t cover what I needed to pay.” She sneers, as if now that the mask is gone she can’t even stand to be close to me. “Besides, you never came home after your date.”
“So you take my possessions? To gamble? That’s your problem, right?”
“And what would you know of problems, Little Miss Perfect?”
Her voice drips with venom, her arms crossing over each other as if she has every right to taunt me. The look sickens me, making my stomach swim with anger and betrayal all over again.
“What happened to you, Jenny? We were friends. Best friends.” Seeing her like this makes me feel a bigger fool than I ever thought possible. It seems she’s been playing me for a long time. The fact breaks a part of me inside, a part that kept the hope alive in the hours and days locked up with Quinn.
She laughs softly. Laughs. It makes tears prick my eyes, the thought of all those years wasted on her welling up inside of me.
“Well, I’ll give you the short version, Miss Perfect. Betting was a thrill. And it was better than sticking a needle in my arm and shooting up. Certainly better than working in a shitty photography shop and wasting my life away like you do.”
All the loyalty I felt for her diminishes with that last sentence, a part of me ready to walk out and let her rot.
“And you couldn’t have told me that?” I snap, biting back the tears and refusing to show them to her.
“I didn’t want to be a victim. It wasn’t a big deal.” She shrugs, as if all this is just another day in the life she leads. “Besides, I’d always found a way out before.”
“And then when you couldn’t, you just decided that I’d be your way out of the situation? That good old Emily could deal with the problem for you, make it go away?” My hands find my hips as my frustration and anger vent through me.
“You don’t look too worse for it.” She sneers again, as if she finds the situation amusing. “You seem fine.”
Fine.
I look back towards Quinn, who’s just standing in the shadows, his hands in his pockets and a frown on his face. He’s rolling the dice in his fingers. I know he is. I can almost feel the animosity from him travelling across the space to me, as if he’s ready to do what he believes needs doing with no other conversation.
Quinn’s words—everything he’s taught me—act to build my courage and conviction. Jenny’s betrayal was devastating for me in the beginning. I couldn’t understand why someone would do such a horrible thing to a friend. It’s plainly obvious that she never considered me a friend in the first place. Or rather, not in recent years.
I turn back to her, my own frown matching Quinn’s. “You don’t know what your cowardly decision cost me, Jenny. How it’s changed me.” I snort lightly, suddenly assured in my own self belief of right and wrong. “You’ll never know what you did. You’re not even sorry, are you?”
“It’s a tough world, Emily,” she drawls, staring me down. “You have to look out for yourself first.”
“Well, funny you should say that. Quinn gave me the choice of what to do with you.” I see the shift in her eyes, trying to keep up with what I’m saying. “I wanted to let you go. Never see you again in my life. I didn’t want to know why you did what you did to me. I’d rather have forgotten it and moved on,” I say, smiling. “But Quinn doesn’t work like that. He looks out for his family and demands what’s right for them. I think it’s about time I did the same.”
“Who’s Quinn?” she asks, her arms flourishing at me without a care in the world.
“Quinn Cane. The man you sent me on a date with,” I reply, tipping my head to him in the corner. “To pay off your debts. He’s the reason you’re still alive now, Jenny. The reason you’re here. It’s nothing to do with Shifty.”
Her face pales, her eyes snapping to Quinn. “Actually, now I’m considering it, I suppose I’m the reason you’re here now. I’m the reason you’re still alive.”
She gulps, an expression of clarity creeping over her features as she realises what’s going on.
“You can still let me go, Em. You’ll never see me again, I promise.”
“It’s too late for that, Jenny.” I dig my fingers into her wrist and snatch the silver bracelet from her skin, making her face turn in shock at my harsh handling of her. Tough. “This is mine.”
She’s right; life isn’t easy, but I’ll never be walked over again. I turn and walk over to Quinn and put my hand out to him. He doesn’t ask what I want. He doesn’t need to. He just takes the dice from his pocket and hands them to me without a word uttered between us.
His eyes burn in the dark, and I feel the approval from him wrap me in a comfort that I need to keep me grounded.
“Jenny,” I start, leaving Quinn and going to face her. “I want you to pick a number.”
“What? Why?” Her eyes narrow at me, but I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of explaining things to her.
“I want you to choose a number between two and twelve. It’s easy.”
“Fine. Nine,” she calls, sounding fed up.
“Well, let’s see, shall we?”
I throw the dice, giving myself over to chance and letting fate make the choice I never thought I’d be capable of. Quinn was right. Some decisions are more complicated than simply saying yes or no.
The decision to pull the trigger
wasn’t one I was fully conscious of making. I shot Josh to protect Quinn. There was a reason behind it, but the guilt still sits heavy in my chest, infusing me with a darkness that I’ll always carry. But every word from Jenny’s mouth since we got here has eaten away at my first choice. Any shred of understanding or compassion has crumbled with each truth she’s revealed, leaving nothing but the raw emotion that burns through me.
The two cubes skip over the floor and fall to a halt, landing on five. “That’s a shame, Jenny,” I mutter.
I turn on my unsteady heels and take Quinn’s hand in mine, leading him through the door and away from all of this.
“Wait, what does that mean?” she calls after me.
“It means you’re not my problem anymore. Shifty, she’s all yours.” I catch his eye, and he nods, a smirk attached to his lips.
My fingers dig into Quinn’s hand as I force myself to stop shaking. I need to get out of the building before my legs give out. This show of strength will all be for nothing if I can’t see it through and behave the way I intended.
As soon as we’re clear of the warehouse I take a deep breath as if I’ve just surfaced from underwater, scared my next breath will be revoked somehow because of what I’ve done. “Quinn, I need to sit down.”
“No, you don’t. I’ve got you.”
“I’m serious. I think I’m going…”
My words are interrupted by urgent lips, punishing my mouth and vanquishing any thought of dropping to my knees. Quinn’s tongue demands entry, and I let him, opening myself up to him completely and in every way.
He backs off, his fingers holding my chin as he looks me in the eyes.
“Welcome to my world, Em.”
Epilogue
One Year Later
Quinn, you promised.” I drop the camera down to my side and try my best version of a pout.
“You asked me when my brain was being ruled by my dick. Doesn’t count.”
“Come on, just one.”
He offers a begrudging smile, not what I was hoping for, but I snap the frame all the same. I could do this all day, staring at his beautiful features. My eyes flick down to his scar, but it doesn’t set my mind to turning anymore. I’ve seen everything behind Quinn, and it hasn’t defeated me. I’m stronger for it, and that’s the source of my courage to get up and press forward in our life every day.
My finger sets the shutter snapping as his slick smile resorts back to his usual hard line.
“When are you flying back?” I ask, backing off and walking alongside him through Hyde park.
“Tomorrow. Nate has a meeting set with Marco Mortoni. I need to be there, Em. You know I do. We’ve been working towards this for the last year.”
“I know. I’m pleased it’s gone according to plan.”
My smile is genuine because this meeting will mark a milestone in his business. Quinn and Nate have been working to clean up the business and cut the criminal interests he used to rely so heavily on. When we’d settled into a kind of rhythm with each other he started to open up about the Cane world. It was shocking, enough so that I was terrified of what I’d gotten into at first, love or not. But then he told me of his future plans. It’s taken a while, and it will be another year or two, if ever, before he’s resolved everything, but it’s another reason to hope for better. For safer.
“You’ll be over on the weekend, though. The funeral is next week.” Quinn’s mention of the funeral sends a shudder through me. Quinn’s father died nearly a month ago. He’s been in London with me ever since, barely talking about it. He arrived back from Chicago, announced he was dead, and then moved onto the next topic of conversation.
I never met his dad, but he was always a presence in Quinn’s life, a shadow casting him in the shade. And even though he’s now dead, I still find myself hating him for what he put his family through. I might never know the entirety of what he did, but I understand enough.
Quinn has hardly ever spoken to me of him, always hiding his true feelings, and I know not to push him on the subject, but I want to. Maybe I will one day. I’ll get deeper in and find the real reasons behind this empire he heads, but he gets the hard, stone-like gaze when I mention anything, building walls I can’t get through.
So, for now, I steer clear and wait for the right time.
The funeral will mean I’ll have to face Nate again. He’s the only other person who knows the full truth about me and Josh and what happened that night. I was surprised at how calm he was the first time we met when I went back to Chicago with Quinn. It would have been easier if he’d shouted or got angry, but he’s been stoic with me the handful of times I’ve seen him since. Less than happy, but not hostile at least. I’m hopeful that he won’t be like that forever, though. Out of all three Cane boys, he always seemed the least affected by the family name, or the business he works in. I hate the feeling that I pushed him further into it through my actions.
“Will Angie be there?” I ask, moving around the flower beds to get to the far side of the path. He frowns at me, watching my feet as if I might fall any minute. Thankfully, I don’t.
I know that realistically she can’t be there. Quinn’s mother hasn’t made it out of her room for years, but I feel she should be there to see her monster of a husband laid to rest. Not that she really knows what he was like according to Quinn. Not anymore.
“No. But Maria reports that she seems calmer these last weeks.” He pulls me back to him, linking our fingers. “I’m sure you’ll be able to visit with her at Christmas. She liked you.”
“That’s just you trying to give me another reason to spend Christmas in Chicago.” He smiles at that, making me raise my camera quickly. He pushes it away before I get a bloody chance at another shot, and keeps us walking.
I gaze up at the ominous looking winter clouds, thinking about her. I met Angela Cane a few months ago when she was, as Quinn calls it, having a better moment. She was like a classic theatre star, ready to tread the boards. I’ve seen the darker side of her as well. The state she finds herself in when her medication wears off, or when the demons take hold. It’s a stark reminder of why I must keep strong in this world I’m now in.
“Anyway, I’ve been in London more than Chicago the last few months,” he says. “All because of you. I can’t be here all the time, Em. We’ve talked about that.”
“I know, I know. It’s just…” I let go of my camera and take his other hand, too, walking backwards to pull him along the path. “It’s just that...” I sigh, feeling agitated that we can’t compromise in our mixed-up life.
“This is fucking ludicrous.” I halt, wondering what he’s talking about. “I would have thought staying here would be harder for you. Chicago would be simpler all round.”
I know what he’s talking about—staying in the same city that I murdered in, a constant reminder of what I did. But for me, it’s part of my penance. I’ve learnt to survive through the guilt. Quinn’s shown me that I have to.
I turn and look up at the clouds again, wishing there was something to make this all seem as simple as he professes it to be. I killed to protect him, and I won’t take that for granted. He’s in my life, irrevocably connected, and I make it a personal goal every day to show him how we can make the best of both worlds—the empire he runs and is slowly forging a new path with, and my small business, capturing moments of happiness for all to see—but he’s not content with how we are.
“I can’t forget, Quinn. I’ve already conceded the house.” We’ve been over this argument a dozen times.
It took Quinn one month half living in my house before he had me moved into a beautiful apartment, complete with garden. I didn’t want to live in the apartment he already had. Too many bad memories and thoughts about the Quinn of the past.
“Moving to Chicago won’t mean you’ll forget anything,” he says.
“I think the conversation of where we live is still open to negotiation.”
We’ve not been able to agree, and while the shift i
n power and business direction takes place, I’m happy to stay in London. Quinn has other ideas, though.
“How about we negotiate now. I want you to come back to Chicago. I’m fed up of splitting our fucking lives in two.” He looks at me and gives me a hard stare.
He’s deadly serious.
“Hate to tell you, Quinn, but that’s not how to negotiate.” I shake my head at him and tug on his hand, wanting to continue our walk rather than get into another argument.
“It’s how I negotiate, and no matter how clean the business is, I’ll always get what I want in the end. Remember, you’re helpless when I get my hands on you, dirty girl.” He beams his full Cane smile, and I raise my camera to get the shot I’ve been after for weeks.
It’s bittersweet, though, because I know he’s not going to let the moving thing go.
“Quinn, please listen to me. I’m not ready to leave. I can’t. My business is here, my parents...”
“Bullshit. You’re afraid,” he cuts in. “You’ve been afraid for a year, waiting for me to suddenly ask for my revenge or some shit. Tell you it’s all been a lie. It’s not fucking happening, Em.”
“I can’t just run away with you and live happily ever after. Not after what I’ve done.” My voice is quiet and I scan the park around us to make sure there’s no one in earshot.
“You won’t let yourself forget what happened, no matter where you live. There are other counsellors you can see, other rehab facilities you can volunteer at. I don’t even know why you’re bothering. It’s over, Em. Done.” He backs away from me, frustration etched into his face. “And I’m getting damn tired of not being able to protect you.”
“Protect me?” His statement confuses me.
“Protect me then. Do you think I enjoy living in the shadow of what my brother did to you? Hell, kidnapping you and locking you away has crossed my mind more than once, Emily.” He huffs and stares out into the park. “I’ve fucking done it before.” My brows rise at the comment. “I won’t let anyone else I care for get hurt. Not again.”
Innocent Eyes Page 30
