Page 30 of Confession (Constantine Brothers #2)

TWENTY-FIVE

Vitali

My office is too small for this argument, and I don’t like that I’m trapped behind the desk. Quinn is on the other side of it, hands planted on the dark wood surface, leaning down, scowling furiously at me.

He’s still wearing his sweats and t-shirt, still has my cum inside him, but his soft, submissive mood is utterly gone.

“No,” I repeat.

“You don’t get to say no to this.”

“I 100% get to say no to this.”

Veins bulge in his neck. The muscle in his forearms ropes tight under the scar tissue.

I stare at that. There’s such a deep anger inside me from Quinn’s story.

No one has ever protected him, and I’ve been employing him in very dangerous work.

It hasn’t even been two months since he took two bullets doing that work.

And he almost killed himself two nights ago.

Passively, yes, but that doesn’t change what the result would have been.

“Vitali, you have no right—”

“I have every right.”

“No, you fucking don’t!” Quinn slaps the lamp off my desk. It crashes to the floor, glass shade shattering.

I try to argue, “You work for—”

“Fuck that and fuck you! There is no way in god’s fucking hell that you’re meeting Alesso without me! I am going—”

I get up from my chair. As I try to get around the desk, Quinn intercepts me.

I’m not wearing a shirt for him to grab, but he latches onto my wrist. I twist to break his hold and have to shove him to get past. I move quickly through the office, braced for him to attack me from behind, but he doesn’t.

He’s practically on my heels though as I walk down the hallway and through the house.

Sasha, who was standing outside the office, clearly not trusting either of us, falls in behind.

When we get to the more open space of the sitting room, Quinn grabs my wrist again. “Stop, Vitali!”

I wheel on him and break his hold again. “I’m going alone! With Sasha covering me from the rooftop with a rifle. You are staying here.”

Roman and Lucas appear in the doorway between the sitting room and kitchen.

“If you fucking think I’m staying here—”

“It’s my decision to make, Quinn!”

He flips an end table, destroying another lamp. “No, it’s fucking not! Because this decision has nothing to do with work and you know it!”

“It doesn’t fucking matter whether it has to do with work or not—because I am also the head of this family, and you will fucking do what I say!”

He gets right in my face, inches away. I’ve never seen him so angry. “Are you prepared to tie me up? To drug me? Because that’s what it’s gonna take.”

I go cold and hard inside. I don’t mean to, don’t expect to, but it happens, and Quinn sees it. He knows what I’m capable of.

Roman sees it too, and he takes a step into the sitting room.

Quinn edges back from me, his eyes darting over my face. I see the hurt in his eyes. Then I see the stubbornness. The locking down. I see what he intends to do. That’s his disadvantage. I know him too well now. I understand him too well.

When he bolts, I bolt too. I tackle him. We tumble across the floor and slam into the wall, shaking it so hard that a painting falls on top of us and bounces to the ground. Quinn thrashes and twists under me, breaking my hold, trying to shove me off.

I’m suddenly lifted, ripped away from Quinn and thrown across the room. I crash into one of the wingback chairs. I scramble up, furious. Roman, who threw me, has Quinn pinned to the wall.

“Get back!” Roman shouts. At first think he’s talking to me, but Lucas, who’s come partway into the sitting room, backs up.

Sasha, who vanished, comes back. She has Cecilia’s burner phone in her hand. Quinn reaches out his hand for it.

“Don’t give it to him!” I shout. “He wants to blow up the meeting because he’s not getting his way.”

Sasha puts the phone in the pocket of her black fatigues, but she says, “That’s not why he’s arguing with you, Vitali.”

“None of you have any business in this argument!”

“Yes, we do,” Roman replies.

Sasha says, “This is both business and family. It affects all of us. It includes all of us.”

“Goddamn it!” I shout. “This is my decision! If I want to go alone, I can fucking go alone! I am not losing you”—I point at Quinn—“or you”—I point at Roman—“or you”—I point at Sasha then swing my finger to Lucas—“and he’s definitely not going!”

Everyone just stares at me. Stubborn and united against me. Rebellious.

“We’re gonna take a break,” Sasha informs the room. “Everyone. One hour. Then we’ll reconvene. I’m keeping the phone.”

***

So here I am fucking am, waiting in the loading bay of my warehouse with Quinn beside me and no way of knowing whether Alesso DiMaggio will behave as expected.

Quinn and I haven’t spoken since the disastrous meeting during which my plan— my plan—was hijacked.

I’m furious with all of them. Quinn is leaning against the concrete retaining wall with his arms crossed, his eyes scanning for movement.

Sasha is on the roof with her rifle. Roman is inside, well out of sight.

This could all go so, so wrong.

Quinn and I both straighten at the sound of a vehicle racing along the street. A black SUV swings a hard left and comes roaring toward us. Shots fire from the warehouse roof, blasting the windshield and peppering the hood.

Quinn and I fire at the vehicle until shots from it force us to duck back into the doorway we’ve left open.

The SUV barrels into the loading bay and slams into the aluminum door, shredding the metal as it blasts through.

The vehicle screeches to a stop inside the dark warehouse, where shots start firing.

I shoot into the dark space of the warehouse, away from where I know Roman is located, but when another set of tires screeches on the pavement outside, I have no choice but to leave Roman to handle himself. I lean out of the doorway, hunting for Alesso as men pour out of the second vehicle.

One man drops, shot by Sasha. Quinn has circled around to the shredded door, where he leans out to pick off another.

A door opens on the second SUV, and there’s Alesso. I grab my other gun from its holster.

Alesso sees me and raises his own gun, but he’s slow. I fire. He slams back against the SUV and crumples to the ground. A few more shots fire inside, then everything goes quiet.

Quinn emerges from the warehouse with Roman behind him. I sink against the doorframe in relief, then I walk out to where Alesso lies still. I crouch and check his pulse, then I nod toward Cecilia down the block. Her car starts and pulls away.

***

“I just can’t talk to you right now,” I tell Quinn when we get home. We’re in the doorway between the garage and the hallway that leads to his room.

His jaw sets. “Fine.”

I snag his hand as he turns away. I expect him to tear free, but he stops.

“I love you,” I tell him. “I just can’t talk to you right now.”

He comes back to me. He rests his forehead against mine. I close my eyes and reach up to cup the back of his neck. All I hear is the sound of our harsh, frustrated breathing.

All I feel is how much I want to be with him. But I can’t right now.

Quinn sighs and draws back. He’s still frustrated with me, probably angry, but he squeezes my fingers before he leaves me, giving me what I’ve asked for, something I don’t want but need.

I need to be alone tonight. I need to sort my shit out like I haven’t managed to do all day. I need a clear head for tomorrow—because this isn’t over.