Page 17

Holy fuck.

Yeah, I'd wormed my way into going with Quincy, but now I wondered if I should have just stayed home and out of his way. Although if I did, he might still be in trouble. Like he said, something didn't feel right. I wasn't used to doing this kind of stuff, but even to me, the air felt too charged. The gun I had was tucked inside my pants, right beneath my cock. They'd touched it when I was searched a few minutes ago, but hadn't gone further when I grinned at them. The knife, however, was still tucked inside my boot. Which they hadn't bothered to check. At least I had some way to defend myself. And Quincy.

Russian was spat my way and I stared at the man as if he had a second head. Am I supposed to know what the fuck he's saying? I was lucky I even knew English. Languages weren't my strong suit. I knew some basic Italian because of my mother, but even she barely spoke it. If he thought I could understand him, he was sorely mistaken.

"What the fuck man? How am I supposed to understand that?" I asked, exasperated. "Like he said, I'm just here to make sure this shit doesn't go south. Can you put the gun down?"

My voice was calm, well, as calm as it could be in the situation, but I was a ball of nerves. The gun pressed against Quincy's temple made my blood freeze in my veins. At any moment he could decide to pull the trigger, and the asshole that I loved to fight with would just be... gone.

A pain stabbed me in the chest. I wanted to reach up to rub it, but I didn't dare move a muscle. Being a nonchalant asshole was the best course of action right now. The more I pretended I was laid-back and unbothered, the more they would believe it. Or at least, that's what I hoped. I had to thank my newfound family for this ability to be so calm because the old me would have shit himself.

"I told you, he don't speak it." Quincy laughed. "Why the fuck would I lie?"

As I stared at the man with the gun to Quincy's head, Isaak or whatever his name was, I tried not to even blink. He seemed like he was looking through me, searching me inside and out as he took me in. Finally, he dropped his hand. Inwardly, I sighed with relief. But outside, I stayed quiet and slipped my hand into my pocket. His men watched me, but I didn't move. Just waited for them to get on with their business.

The second he turned and started speaking Russian to Quincy, I was able to breathe. I had no idea what they were saying, but it was better than all eyes being on me. I took in every bit of Quincy. There was none of his usual lightness and bullshit. He was tight. Something was really wrong.

Why did I involve myself in this?

I knew why immediately. There had been something on Quincy's face that made me want to protect him. By now, I was more than aware that whoever he was working for had no problem tossing him to the wolves. So, why should this be any different?

"What are you talking about?" Quincy asked, his brows pinched in confusion. "You were already given what you were owed.”

The conversation quickly spiraled back into Russian. Not for the first time in my life, I really wished I could pick up on things more easily. Learning had always been difficult for me. I could do basic things, but when it came to anything deeper, I choked. There was a reason I didn't have a job or a career. My brain worked with crime, but not much else. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

Shit, what’s going on?

Quincy's words echoed in my head. I glanced at the two men with who was clearly in charge at the moment, but they were pretending I was invisible. The only person they stared at was Quincy. And they were just as antsy as I was. My stomach knotted, sweat gathered on my temples, and I licked my lips uneasily. I had a feeling we were about to be in a shit show.

My foot tapped against the ground softly. I watched each of them, waiting for someone to make a move. The gun and the knife on me burned against my flesh. Could I really use them? I'd put my fist through people's faces plenty of times, but this was a whole different ball game. Did I have what it took to cross that line?

"You were supposed to bring us the money," Isaak said as he spat on the ground. "That was the deal I made with Daiki. He said you would bring it!"

I stiffened. Quincy looked confused as hell, like he had no idea what the man was talking about. My back tensed, my hands clenching as the Russians grew more agitated and so did Quincy. He wasn't throwing goofy jokes or grinning like a loon. There wasn't even a hint of a smile.

"Daiki has your money," Quincy bit out.

"No, you do!"

What happened next was a blur. Quincy went for his gun and leveled off a shot at one of the Russian men's heads. He dropped like a bug, falling and squirming and flailing on the ground. Some part of my instincts kicked in. I bent down, grabbed the knife, and stabbed it into the other goon’s throat. Was I aiming there? Not at all. But it was good enough and it was better than I ever would have done with the gun. As it protruded from his neck, I gagged.

That’s disgusting.

He reached for his gun, but the way he choked on his blood let me know that he wasn't going to be upright for much longer. Sure enough, he fell, holding his throat as he coughed up a river of blood at my feet.

A hand wrapped around my arm and a hard chest met my back. Quincy panted, his gun pointed at me, but I knew that it had nothing to do with me. Instead, he was staring at the Russian that had me pressed against him. Isaak.

"My men are coming any minute," Isaak said. "Do you really think you'll leave here alive?"

"Maybe not," he said before he nodded at me. "He will though."

My heart squeezed. I stared at Quincy, needing him to look at me, but he refused to take his eyes off Isaak. They were in some kind of silent battle of wills. Cool, great, I loved that for them. Except I didn't and I was going to piss my pants if they kept it up!

I lifted my foot and slammed backwards into Isaak's balls. Hey, it was between him and me, and I wasn't afraid to fight dirty. Not even a little bit. As he crumbled to the ground, I shot up. As soon as I did, I blinked and Quincy was on top of him. He shoved the man to the ground and stomped on his face. Blood sprayed, decorating the ground, before he picked up his foot and did it again. And again.

And again.

But it wasn't enough for Quincy. He dropped to the ground, balled up his fist, and slammed it into Isaak's face. At first, it was normal. Violence was something I was used to after having to survive, but it quickly became worse. Quincy wouldn't stop pounding his fist into the man's face. He drew his arm back and delivered another blow as Isaak tried to grab onto him weakly. I’d give the Russian one thing, he really didn’t want to die. However, even as the man's thick fingers reached for Quincy's neck, the crazy bastard wouldn't stop.

"Quincy."

A string of Japanese flowed from his lips so quickly that even if I did speak the language, I was sure I wouldn't understand it. I took a step forward, but froze as his head snapped in my direction and he glared at me. The look in his eyes was nothing short of demonic. Before I could even speak a word, he was right back at it. The sound of flesh against flesh, the thuds and the noise of the man's blood as it gurgled in his chest made my stomach tighten. My eyes flickered around us, making sure that no one else was coming to the man’s aid.

What if there are more of them? I need to get Quincy out of here.

I finally ignored every bit of self-preservation inside of me and surged forward. When my hand wrapped around Quincy's arm, stopping him, he panted hard. I could feel the shuddering, the trembling that had taken over him. My heart squeezed.

"Quincy, please," I begged. "We need to get out of here before their friends show up. There's a warehouse right over there, and cars parked outside of it. Benito said nothing was going down here tonight. It has to be more of them and they have to know we're out here. I mean, maybe they think you were the one that was shot so they're relaxed, but eventually they're going to figure it out. Quincy!"

He blinked up at me with his dark eyes. They were blank, not a hint of light behind them as if he was suddenly possessed. I swallowed hard.

"Quincy?"

Nothing.

The more he hit the man, the more my stomach churned. Eventually, I knew that the guy was dead, but Quincy just kept on going.

"彼は立ち去ると言った。しかし、あなたはそうではありません。野郎どもは一人もいない" He said he would walk away, but you’re not. None of you bastards.

"I think I heard someone over there," a voice called. "You think he's having fun with that ugly bastard? Daiki practically gave him to us."

Yeah, we were out of time, and I was out of patience. I closed the last little gap between me and Quincy. Grabbing his chin, I tilted his head back and he stared up at me with a mixture of rage and annoyance on his face. I leaned down and kissed him. One long, deep kiss that sucked my breath away and took his as well. When I pulled back, he blinked, and it was like he was coming back to life.

"Shit," he swore as he hopped to his feet and looked around. "Oh, fuck!" He shoved both of his bloody hands through his hair. "What the fuck do I do?"

My eyes darted around before I grabbed his hand and dragged him down a row of containers. Soon, they would find the bodies, but until then we had a little time. At least enough to make sure no one came after us. I spotted a canister and yanked it up. When I shook it, the sloshing and smell of gasoline made me grin.

"Stay here," I told Quincy. "I need to go inside that building."

He frowned as he ducked down beside me. "What? That's insane."

"Yeah." I gave him a smile as my confidence returned. "But I'm good at insane."

Before he could say a word, I slipped inside. Talking and laughter made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I listened out as best I could while I shook gasoline everywhere. The heavy Russian and thick accents were proof there were roaches in Benito’s warehouse. I’d have to apologize later for burning it down. By the time I made my way outside again, Quincy looked like he was a shade paler than before. He gripped my arm and refused to let me go.

"What did you do?"

"Set up a distraction," I whispered back.

I pulled out my lighter and tossed the piece of fabric I'd torn off one of their jackets. An inferno sprung to life. You know, I could get used to this if I got to set fires forever.

A smile tugged at my lips before strong hands grabbed both of my arms. I was yanked away and shoved into a car before I realized it was Quincy hustling to rush us away from the scene of the crime. As he climbed behind the wheel, he panted.

"Jesus, you're nuts," he growled.

I smiled. "Hey, apparently it runs in the family." I watched the city shoot by before I stared at him. "You okay?"

Quincy grunted. "Yeah. Thanks to you."

I tried to contain my smile as I slid down further in the seat and propped my feet up on the dashboard. Quincy was okay, because of me. I mean, sure, his hands were bloody and we both reeked, but it seemed worth it. We had just done something together, something insane and fucked up, but it was together none-the-less.

Damn, I felt like I was on top of the world.