by Bliss Brant
She sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the too-long hair away from his face. “He had to leave but promised to come back.”
“Is he really a cowboy, Mom?” Her son paused his game and looked at her with serious brown eyes so like Quinn’s.
“From what I understand, yes. He rides horses and raises cattle. In fact, he invited you to stay at his ranch so you can see first-hand what it’s like. Isn’t that exciting?”
His mouth split into a wide grin. “Gosh, yes.”
She pulled his suitcase from the closet and placed it on the bed, not wanting him to see the worry clouding her eyes. “Then you’d better pack, because you need to be ready to go when he gets back from taking care of some business.”
He rolled off the bed and tossed his shoes into the suitcase. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
“You might need these before you get to Texas.” Priscilla returned his shoes to the floor and caught her son in a hug. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” He ducked his head. “A bushel and a peck. You tell me all the time.”
“Don’t forget that.” Tears threatened, and she turned to leave.
“Mom?”
She paused in the doorway, twisted to face him, and forced a smile. “Yes?”
“You’re coming to Texas, too, right?” He pulled underwear from the dresser drawer and dropped them on the bed. “I mean, seeing as how he’s your friend and all. This is gonna be great. We can go riding together, maybe roast marshmallows over a campfire.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Why not?”
“Well, there’s some things I need to do that I’ve put off far too long. I may take advantage of the time you’re gone to take care of those things.”
His brows drew together in a vee. “Like what things?”
She looked at her feet and tried to think of a single thing. Nothing came to mind. “A haircut.”
“You’re kidding? You’re passing up a trip to a ranch for a haircut?”
“Well, the invitation was for you. I’d hate to assume he intended for both of us to come and find out his home only has two beds.”
“If that happens, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He slumped on the edge of the bed and watched her. “I don’t want to go without you.”
She waved off his comment. “Don’t be silly. I’ll be absolutely fine here. It’s only for a couple of weeks.” The words sounded hollow even to her ears.
“Then we’ll ask Mr. Messala when he returns if he has a bed where you can sleep.”
“We’ll do no such thing. That would be rude.”
He scooped his underwear off the bed and tossed them back into the drawer. “Then I’m not going.”
“Okay. We’ll ask.” She closed the door and walked to the sofa. She had lost an argument to a twelve-year-old. So much for her negotiating skills. She would just have to pack a bag and hope she could slip away at the airport…or something.
Chapter Five
An hour and a half later, Quinn rode the hotel elevator to their floor. He’d left Priss to speak with Luka and pack his things. In the meantime, he had money wired from his bank and purchased jeans, a shirt, and boots.
The rage that simmered within him begged for release. Only he saved it for Amadeus Sabinus. Before he left New Orleans, he had every intention of paying Priss’s father a visit. He would not spend the next fifty years looking over his shoulder and neither would his son.
Son.
Quinn still couldn’t grasp that he had a child. Him. A drunk’s kid, a loser. Now, a father. What he knew about children would fit in the nail hole of a horseshoe and still have room leftover. At least Buck would be there to help. He couldn’t remember how old Buck’s son was when he died, but there couldn’t be that much difference in raising a five- or twelve-year-old boy. One thing was for sure, he couldn’t use his own childhood as an example of what to do. Jesus. He was in deep shit.
He paused outside Priss’s door. She couldn’t have found a bigger fuck-up to protect Luka. When had Quinn ever done the right thing? The ranch. Buying the ranch was only one thing, but it was a start.
Luka loved cowboys. While Quinn didn’t technically consider himself one, he did work a ranch. It wasn’t like Priss was giving him a choice. Priss. He needed to figure out a way to get her away from Amadeus so she’d be safe. If what she said was true, there was no limit to what her father would do to climb the ladder of success.
Power. That was his Achilles’s heel.
Quinn knocked on the door to Priss’s room.
She opened it to reveal two suitcases and Luka, ready and waiting.
Quinn started to pick up the cases, when his son asked, “Does the invitation to come to your ranch include my mom?”
Startled at the question, Quinn looked from Luke to Priss. “Sure. I mean, yeah.”
“Do you have a bed she can sleep in?”
Priss made a choking noise and cleared her throat. “What he means is, do you have enough bedrooms to accommodate Luka and me?”
“The rooms will need airing and clean sheets put on the beds, but there’s plenty of space for you both.”
He must have said the right thing, because Luka smiled. Priss frowned.
Lifting both suitcases, he left the room. “I’ve got one stop to make before we go to the airport.”
“Where’s that?” Priss asked, closing the door behind them.
“To see Amadeus.”
****
“If you think I’m waiting in the taxi while you talk with my father, you’re crazy.” Priscilla pushed against the car door when Quinn tried to shut it. “You told me to face my father. I will. Just let me do it my way.”
He stared at her, the breeze blowing his dark brown hair into his eyes. A muscle ticked in his stubborn jaw and just when she expected him to deny her request, he said, “All right, but I’m going in with you. No way will you speak to him alone. I don’t trust the son of a bitch.”
Priscilla nodded and scrambled from the taxi. She stood on the curb, undecided whether to leave Luka in the vehicle or take him with her. “Luka, come with us.”
She closed the car door and pulled Luka’s game headset from her purse as Quinn gave the driver fifty dollars to stay put until they returned. Then they climbed the stairs to the entrance of Monsters United corporate headquarters.
Sucking in a deep breath, Priscilla crossed the polished floor to the receptionist—a young blonde with large green eyes—three of them.
“Good morning. Can I help you?”
It irritated Priscilla that the woman’s attention was glued to Quinn, not that she blamed her. His jeans molded to his narrow hips and muscled legs. The T-shirt hugged his abs and gave him an “I don’t give a shit” air. Not that he needed help in that department. His gaze was enough to make most folks get out of his way. Apparently, the lady couldn’t raise her gaze past his six pack.
“I’d like to see Almod Gold.” Her words echoed in the foyer, and all heads turned toward her.
“Priss, I thought you wanted to see your father.”
Quinn’s frown made her question her hasty decision. She almost reconsidered. “I’ve changed my mind.”
He caught her arm. “But Almod Gold?”
She pulled her arm free and faced the woman behind the counter once more. “Is Mr. Gold available?” Her nerves already frayed, she let the irritation come across in her voice. Quinn’s fingers caught hers and squeezed.
“I’m sorry. Mr. Gold is heavily booked today, this whole week in fact.” She clicked several buttons with practiced ease. “He does have an opening in three weeks.”
“You don’t understand. I need to see him today.” Priss glanced behind her to see that her son was wearing the headset and playing a game on his phone. “Tell Mr. Gold it’s about the murder of Justus Pitino. I know who did it and where the body is, if it hasn’t already been found. Let him decide whether he wants to speak with
me now.”
The receptionist gave her an assessing look, then clicked on a key pad. “Genevieve, there’s someone here wanting to speak to Mr. Gold. She claims Justus Pitino is dead, and that she has information about it.”
After a long pause, the receptionist met Priscilla’s gaze. “Take the elevators to the top floor. Someone will meet you there.”
Lines furrowed Quinn’s brow. “Priss, I’ve heard some bad shit about this Almod Gold. I don’t think you want to talk to him.”
Priscilla hurried toward the elevator doors which had opened.
Luka jumped on behind her and Quinn. “Which floor, Mom?”
“All the way up.”
“What?” Luka yelled.
She pulled one side of the headset from his ear. “All the way up.” She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake by bringing her son here.
As the car started its ascent, she met Quinn’s gaze. “Everything you’ve heard about Almod Gold is probably true. No matter what happens, Luka’s safety has to come first.”
“Priss—”
“I won’t budge on this, Quinn. Just promise me you’ll keep watch over him.”
“All right,” he growled as the car stopped and the doors opened.
A small army carrying machine guns and other automatic weapons met them.
Luka stepped back and slipped his hand into hers. Quinn jumped between her and the six men.
A woman dressed in a pale pink two-piece suit and pumps stepped into view. “Please don’t be alarmed. It’s an unfortunate precaution for Mr. Gold’s safety. Place your purse on the conveyor belt to the right, empty your pockets into one of the small baskets, and walk through the metal detector.”
Once they’d complied, their items were scanned and returned to them, then they were led to several chairs in a waiting area where they were instructed to remain until summoned.
After half an hour, Priscilla stood. “Quinn, you were right. This was a mistake. Come on. Let’s go.”
A door across from where they waited opened. From an overhead speaker, a voice said, “Mr. Gold will see you now.
Priscilla turned to Quinn. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He got to his feet. “Like hell. You’re not going in there without me.”
“Please stay with Luka.”
“The boy is coming with us.” Quinn strode past her and through the open door.
She muttered under her breath about stubborn males. “Come on, Luka.”
Her son paused the video game he played and followed her.
Priscilla hurried after Quinn, worried about what he might already have done or said that might anger Almod Gold. God knew the man had a knack of pissing off people.
She looked past where Quinn stood to the large vampire seated behind the largest desk she’d ever seen. If it had a net stretched across the center, they could play tennis while talking. Then her gaze landed on Almod Gold. If she ever thought she needed some sun, this guy had her beat. His face was almost pasty white. Long black hair was pulled straight back from a widow’s peak into a ponytail at his nape. The severity of the looks reflected what she’d heard of the man’s nature.
In spite of that, his high cheek bones and full lips made him almost attractive. Almost. It was his black eyes that made her want to turn around and run. Still, she found it difficult to look away.
He lifted a coffee cup and drank. She wondered if it contained coffee or blood. He licked his red upper lip, answering her question.
“Are you going to stare at me all day? I don’t have time to play nice, so don’t expect it. You claim one of my advisors—Justus Pitino—was murdered, and that you know who did it.”
It was the sight of the tips of his extended incisors that snapped her out of her daze. “Yes, sir.”
“Are these two with you?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her knees decided to shake, along with her voice.
“Do they need to be here for this?”
“No, sir.”
“I’m not leaving her alone with you.” Quinn had somehow ended up beside her.
Almod Gold’s eyes narrowed. “Why is that, wolfman? I have already fed today. Otherwise, I’d feast on your blood for such insolence.”
Priscilla caught Quinn’s arm before he could lunge at the vampire. “Don’t, Quinn. Let me do this my way.”
His nails popped out, and his nose started to lengthen. He looked at her with eyes so yellow she wondered if he was too far gone for her to talk him back.
He growled. “But I stay.”
“All right.” She once more faced Almod Gold. “Quinn—Mr. Messala is here to protect me and my son.”
The slash of black brows lifted. “From me, I presume.”
Priscilla shook her head. “No, my father, Amadeus Sabinus. I’d prefer that they stay, although I’d rather my son not overhear our conversation.”
“I have little time for petty concerns, but since I have questions of my own concerning your father’s actions of late, I’ll grant your request. Mr. Messala, you can stay. Take a seat with the boy over there.” He pointed to several chairs across the large room.
Priscilla squeezed Quinn’s hand. “Please.”
His nails had receded. “I won’t let anything happen to you or our cub.”
She smiled. “I’m counting on that.”
He stalked to Luka and sat beside him.
She settled in the chair across from Almod Gold, her nerves screaming, her head aching.
“Get on with it. I don’t have all day.”
Priscilla drew a shaky breath. “It started almost thirteen years ago.”
Almod Gold did not interrupt while she told of the beginning of her father’s manipulation of her life. His expression remained unchanged throughout the telling.
“You actually overheard Amadeus Sabinus admit to killing Justus Pitino?”
“Yes, this morning when he came by my hotel room with Whiton Marrbury. I stepped into the other room to order coffee. I wasn’t in any hurry to return to the conversation, so I hesitated in the hallway. That’s when I heard my father tell Marrbury what he’d done, so there was nothing to prevent him from getting the position he sought.”
“Amadeus intended to marry you to Whiton Marrbury in exchange for Whiton’s help in getting Justus’s position?”
If possible, it sounded far worse coming from Almod Gold’s mouth. She nodded, unable to speak for the sudden constriction in her throat.
“Justus Pitino was loyal to me. He spoke often of concerns regarding Amadeus’s manipulation of and threats to others.” Almod Gold pressed a button. “Ask Security to bring Amadeus Sabinus to my office.”
He stared across the room for a long moment before meeting her gaze with eyes that had gone hard. “You won’t have to worry about your father trying to manipulate or threaten you or your son ever again.”
“What do you intend to do to him?” Priscilla asked, hating that she worried about her father when he never spared her a minute’s thought, except when it came to how she might benefit him.
“Nothing you need to worry about.” He looked at his watch. “We’re done here. You may go.”
Chapter Six
Quinn hurried Luka toward Priss. Even from here he sensed her anxiety and wished he knew what to do. He placed his hand on her shoulder as they as they left Almod Gold’s office and approached the elevator. “You okay?”
“I don’t know.” She inhaled and blew out a long breath. “I believe my father is in a lot more trouble than I suspected.”
“I heard.”
Her head swiveled to him, eyes wide as they reached the elevator. “Did Luka overhear?”
He hooked his thumb toward the boy, who now faced the opposite direction and wore a headset while he played a game.
Relief showed on her face. “Thank you. I did not want him to know about some of that.”
The doors opened. Amadeus Sabina’s mouth dropped open at the sight of Priscilla. “What the fuck are you doing here
with him? If Whiton Marrbury hears of this, he may back out of our deal. You bitch. You’re going to ruin everything for me.”
Quinn roared and leapt at Amadeus, knocking him and the young security officer to the floor of the compartment. “I’m done putting up with you talking down to Priss. Do it again, and it will be the last thing you do.”
“Arrest this man for assaulting me,” Amadeus huffed as the security officer helped him to his feet.
Quinn got in Amadeus’s face. “Step one foot on my ranch, and I’ll kill you. There are places in Texas I can leave your sorry carcass to rot and no one will ever find your bones. This is your only warning to leave Priss and Luka alone.”
“You can’t lay a hand on me.”
“You think so. I killed my father with my bare hands when I was fifteen. I feel guilty over that, but I’d enjoy killing you.”
“Amadeus, don’t keep me waiting,” Almond Gold said in a deceptively calm voice that carried through the open door into the hall.
Amadeus stepped off the elevator and paused by Priss. “You’re nothing but a whore, just like your mother.”
Quinn growled. His claws sprang out.
Priss touched Quinn’s arm. “You know, Amadeus. I’m really glad you’re not my father. Your days of controlling my life are over, and I don’t have to be nice to you anymore.”
“You bitch.” He drew back an arm to slap her.
Quinn’s fist connected with Amadeus’s jaw, and he went down. While prone on the gleaming floor, Amadeus turned red and grabbed his throat, making choking noises. Then he floated a foot off the ground into Almod Gold’s office. The doors slammed shut behind him with such force that Luka glanced up momentarily from his game.
The security guard slumped into the nearest chair, his eyes round, mouth gaping.
Quinn put his arms around Priss’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”
She glanced back at the doors and nodded. On the ride downstairs in the elevator, she asked, “Do you think Almod Gold meant what he said about Amadeus not bothering us anymore?”
He nodded. “I get the impression he’s not the type to say something he doesn’t mean.”
“So, Luka and I don’t need to leave New Orleans?” She bit her bottom lip and looked from their son to the floor as they stepped outside and walked down the steps.
