Page 22 of How to Hack a Hellhound (Hellhounds of Paradise Falls #2)

Chapter 22

Liam

T he police were, unfortunately, not quick. The sheriff eventually asked where the other person from the car was, and off they went searching for Jude. He was found, and in my opinion, he was a little over the top with the, “Oh, officers, you rescued me and saved my life. How can I ever thank you?” But the police seemed to puff up with the praise.

The sheriff, on the other hand—I don’t know what Jude said to him, but he looked like he was about to smack Jude upside the head at any moment.

I could relate to the sentiment.

Quinton, however, whispered to me that they should get a room. I looked more closely, and perhaps my little hellcat was right. If Jude was actively trying to annoy someone, it usually meant he liked them. That was an interesting development.

The police had found the other two victims upstairs, and they had absolved us of any guilt. Once the guard came to, he fingered Emmett as well. His story about being knocked out went along perfectly with mine when I was asked for details, so we were obviously victims, and I was the boyfriend who had come to rescue my man. Most of the cops thought it was all very romantic and sweet.

The sheriff still looked vaguely suspicious, however, and I was sure we hadn’t seen the last of him. That was fine—it would give Jude plenty of opportunity to annoy the shit out of him.

It was fading into darkness by the time we got out of there, and I just hoped the sheriff left us alone until at least the next day. I made a lot of noise about how exhausted we were, and Quinton agreed, even adding in that the adrenaline had worn off and he needed to crash.

My hellcat still looked like he could light the world on fire with his energy, but the cops nodded understandingly and finally sent us on our way.

“Thank god,” Quinton mumbled when we finally got dropped off back at our car by a police officer. (They had nicely turned it off and secured the keys earlier.)

We all climbed in, Jude included, and headed back to the house.

“My grandma could drive faster than this,” Jude complained, leaning forward from the back seat. “And can we have some music?”

I growled out a no and continued to drive nice and slow. We didn’t need a speeding ticket to top things off.

“You don’t even have a grandma, do you?” Quinton asked, turning around in his seat.

“Oh, I was raised by humans, so I did a long time ago,” Jude answered.

“Aww. That’s kind of sad that you lost your human family to old age,” Quinton responded.

Shit. That reminded me that I had marked and claimed Quinton, and I had done so without his consent. I hadn’t really been aware that I was doing it, but that would need to be a conversation. He wouldn’t age now, either, and he’d leave behind any humans he was close to. I hoped he wasn’t too upset. I wasn’t letting him go, even if I could somehow reverse things.

Although if he really wanted to live a mortal lifespan, perhaps I would figure out a way for both of us to do that. No matter what, I would try to give Quinton what he wanted. I didn’t want to take away his choices. I only wanted to love him. I hoped we’d have eternity for that, but I would do whatever my little hellcat wanted.

By the time we pulled up to the house, Quinton was practically vibrating. He flung open the door, calling out, “Time for torture!”

I smiled. So adorable.

When we got down to the basement in Dexter’s place, Emmett was already bruised and a wee bit bloody, and he was hanging by his wrists from a chain, his tiptoes balancing him just barely on the floor. Dexter did enjoy keeping things interesting. He was lounging on a chair watching Emmett, who looked unconscious.

He opened his eyes and stared at us, so apparently, he was awake. He looked tired and worn but not terrified. That wouldn’t do at all. He even managed a snarl when he saw Quinton.

Dexter stood up and punched him in the solar plexus, and he gasped for air. “Show some respect, asshole,” Dexter muttered.

Quinton walked up to him, and Dexter stepped aside. Quinton stared at him for a long moment, and Emmett eventually turned his eyes away.

“You know, I thought about this for the last couple hours. When the police were interviewing me, I thought about torturing you myself. I thought about hearing your screams for mercy. I thought about what you’ve done to so many innocent men. Maybe you didn’t rape them, but you sold them into slavery. You orchestrated it all.

“And for what? For money. For a nice apartment. Probably for power, too. I bet it made you feel powerful to have that sort of control over someone else’s life. I bet you told yourself you were better than them. They were just drifters, you told me. I bet you stopped even thinking of them as human beings.

“You got away with it, and then you decided to take a friend, someone who could be tied to you. You decided you wanted me out of the way, or you didn’t like me, or maybe I made fun of you one too many times, because you were an uptight asshole who can’t take a joke. And you set me up.”

Emmett just stared at Quinton as he spoke, and the man’s eyes were filled with hatred. It was poisonous, and his rotting soul stunk. Quinton was right—he didn’t even think of his victims as human.

Quinton continued. “I thought about getting my revenge. But then I realized that wouldn’t make me much better than you. I drank with you. I ate with you. I remember joking around with you the night of Dave’s birthday party, when we were both drunk, and we were laughing hysterically about Dave’s dance moves. God, we were falling all over each other because we were laughing so hard.”

Quinton smiled a little at the thought, and then he looked sad. I had the urge to go over and hug him, but I didn’t want to interrupt him.

“You were an asshole, yeah, and I was an asshole, too, but I still counted you as something of a friend. I still would have gone out of my way for you. I would have looked out for you and helped you. I thought you would have done the same. So I won’t torture you. I won’t do anything to you. I won’t sink to your level.”

Quinton turned around to walk away, and Emmett spoke. “You’re going to let me go?” he rasped out.

Quinton turned back, and he looked sad. “Oh, no. You won’t leave here alive. I’m sorry about that, Em, but that’s the truth. There is no other option. But I can give you this much—tell us everything you know. Tell us where the kidnapped men went, tell us who your buyer is, and I can make sure they give you a quick death. That will be my gift to you.”

“Fuck you,” Emmett hissed.

Quinton shrugged. “You have the choice, Em. They’ll torture it out of you one way or another.”

“I’m not telling you shit, assholes,” he hissed.

Quinton sighed and looked at Dexter. “Can you take care of this?” He looked at me then. “As long as you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, my love,” I answered. If he wanted our hands clean of his former friend, then Dexter would be happy to take care of things. I was so proud of Quinton for doing what was right for him.

Dexter nodded his head. “I’ll find out everything you need to know. Don’t worry,” he assured us.

Quinton came to me then. He took one last look at Emmett, saying, “Goodbye, Em.”

Then he led me from the room, shutting the door firmly behind us.

We were silent as we made our way back to his house. I knew he would need to check in on Aiden, and I thought he needed a true friend right now. He had been betrayed by someone he had counted as a friend, and he needed to know that everyone wasn’t like that.

When we got into the house, Aiden just came over and hugged Quinton. Quinton hugged him tightly back, and it made something in my chest lighten.

“I love you, you asshole, and you better not get kidnapped a third time. I can’t take that,” Aiden mumbled.

Quinton laughed, then he murmured, “I love you, too, Aiden.”

They both got a little leaky at that. I was standing and watching them, smiling, and Quinton looked over at me. “Stop grinning like a psycho, Sexy Stalker. You’re supposed to be all jealous or something.”

“Why would I be jealous of your best friend?” I asked, perplexed.

Quinton made a grumpy face, but Aiden just laughed.

“He’s totally a keeper, Q,” he said. “You two go shower or whatever—I’m sure you need to unwind. I’ll make a light dinner, because I’m sure you’re hungry too.”

As if on cue, Quinton’s stomach growled. They both laughed a little, and I dragged Quinton with me into the bathroom.

I turned the water on to get hot, and we both stripped. When we got under the spray, I just held Quinton close to me, letting the hot water rain down on him. It was like I could feel the tension slowly leaking from his body.

“Are you disappointed?” he asked me.

I was utterly confused. “About what, my hellcat?”

“That I wasn’t your hellcat. I went all soft and didn’t even want to torture Emmett,” he said.

I laughed and kissed the top of his head. “You are always my hellcat, Quinton. You are ferocious and have claws and attack when necessary, but you also enjoy cuddling up—when the mood strikes you—and you can be incredibly sweet. But only sometimes, and it’s better not to call attention to it or someone will get swatted.”

Quinton laughed against my chest.

“You did the right thing,” I assured him. “Emmet is evil, and he’ll get the punishment he deserves, but he wasn’t just someone who took advantage of you. You had fond memories of him, too. That’s what makes the two of you so very different. Torturing him wouldn’t have made him change, but it would have darkened your memories. Sometimes it’s better to grieve someone than to punish them. Grieve the man you thought he was. It’s ok.”

Quinton hugged me tighter, and I kissed his head.

After a few more minutes, he spoke again. “You found me more quickly than I expected. Did you airtag me?” he joked.

“Ah, not exactly,” I murmured. It looked like now might be the time to explain things.

He pulled back and looked at me, and his fire was back. “Sexy Stalker, what does ‘not exactly’ mean? Because that’s a loaded phrase.”

“So, ah, yes, well…” I started, but then I didn’t really know where to go from there.

“Spit it out, Liam. What did you do? Did you microchip me while I was sleeping? Do my sneakers have trackers?” he asked.

“I did think about the sneakers, but I hadn’t gotten around to it yet,” I admitted.

Quinton folded his arms against his bare chest and actually tapped his foot on the shower floor. His hair was wet and he reminded me of a hissing, wet cat—super cute—but I knew better than to say that right now.

“So, apparently hellhounds can mark and mate humans. Of course I planned to discuss this with you, because it would be impolite to mark and mate someone without their consent…” I started.

“Yes,” Quinton cut me off.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Yes, you can mate and mark me,” he answered. Then he looked at my face. “Ah, you already did it, didn’t you, and that’s how you found me. Some supernatural mojo.”

“I didn’t realize I had done it. I would have discussed it with you first. I was already planning on discussing it with you. I’m not even sure how I did it,” I added.

Quinton snorted, holding his hand up to his neck. “I don’t know, brainiac, but biting me and knotting me probably had something to do with it.”

“Yes, that’s a strong possibility,” I admitted.

He snorted, and then he looked at me slyly. “Well, you were impolite to do it without my consent. I know how you hate being impolite. You better make it up to me.”

Ahh, I liked where this was going. I pulled him forward, kissing him under the shower spray. Thank goodness for tankless hot water heaters, because I had a feeling this wouldn’t be a short shower.

“Whatever you want, my little hellcat,” I murmured against his lips.

Always, whatever he wanted.

After mutual orgasms (which we kept quiet during out of respect for Aiden being in the house) and a delicious dinner, we fell into bed exhausted. Aiden joined us for cuddles sometime in the night, and we all slept soundly.

It was the wee hours of the morning when I heard the front door open, and I smelled Dexter. I debated getting out of bed, but we were all so warm and cozy, and I was sure that Quinton and Aiden would also want to hear what Dexter had found out.

He came into the bedroom when I didn’t come out.

“Awww, look at you guys! All so cute cuddled up! Is it like a puppy pile? Can anyone join?” he asked.

I growled at him. No, Dexter was not welcome to jump into our cozy cuddles.

Aiden and Quinton were stirring awake at his voice, and Quinton opened one eye. “Fuck. It’s fucking early, Dexter. What the fuck.”

Dexter just laughed. “I got details. I got names and locations and everything. Passwords. The buyer is based out of a shipping yard about four hours south, and Corbin decided to take the drive to deal with him personally. Once we get details about where people are being shipped, we can contact the pack there and have them rescued. It looks like four guys remained somewhat local, and I have their information. Jude and Atlas already headed out to start dealing with those. I’m gonna go home to Toby, and then we’ll see what’s left when everyone regroups. But I thought you’d want to start doing your computer magic.”

Quinton grunted. “Good. Now get the fuck out.”

I smiled. My little hellcat. “I’ll be along to start looking into things,” I told Dexter, and he walked out. I kissed Quinton on the head. “I’m going to go start digging. You two sleep in.”

Quinton mumbled something, and I think he might have already been back to sleep. When I got up, Aiden smiled sleepily at me. “I’m so glad he has you, Liam. You’re so good for him. Thank you.”

I nodded at him, and I pulled on some clothes and headed back to my batcave, sure that Quinton would join me once he was up and had some caffeine in him. Hopefully I’d have some more answers for him by then.