Page 129 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

The ride home is a blur, with my thoughts swirling like a tornado. Every time I try to think straight, another piece of information will jumble everything back up again. I cling to Nico, grateful for his solid presence as we weave through traffic.

Before I know it, we’re pulling up to the house. I dismount mechanically, my body on autopilot while my mind races. The men exchange worried glances, but I can’t bring myself to reassure them. I’m barely holding it together as it is.

There’s definitely some tension in the air as we file into the living room. I sink into an armchair, drawing my knees up to my chest. The Princes settle around me, the concern clear as day on their faces.

“Okay,” Atlas begins, cutting through the silence. “We obviously need to talk about all this crazy shit.”

“Agreed,” I nod. I’m not really up for this conversation right now, but it’s not like we can put it off. We have to figure this shit out somehow. “The symbol is probably connected to the marker, right?”

Atlas leans forward, his brow furrowed. “What makes you think that?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I explain, my thoughts finally starting to align. “Those men were looking for a specific symbol. My father was given a marker. What if the symbol is what’s on the marker?”

Nico looks thoughtful. “That tracks. It would explain why they’re so desperate to find it.”

“But if your dad had this marker,” Killian interjects, “why didn’t he just use it? Or get rid of it if he didn’t want to?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe he destroyed it?”

“Unlikely,” Killian says. “Even if he chose not to use it, something like that would be too valuable to just toss away. No, I bet he hid it somewhere.”

Atlas stands up, pacing the room. “So we need to find this marker. It’s our best lead right now.”

The men continue to discuss potential leads, but their voices fade into the background as I work through everything that’s happened. My father’s secrets, the mysterious marker, the dangerous men hunting for it—it’s a lot. It’s heavy.

It isn’t going to break me, but damn. It really is some crazy shit, to borrow Atlas’s words.

Killian stands abruptly, breaking through my thoughts. “I’ve gotta head out. Carnage business to take care of.”

As he moves towards the door, his eyes lock on to mine. There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes me feel exposed, like he can see right through my calm facade to the turmoil beneath. I look away, unable to hold his stare.

“Stay safe,” Atlas calls after him.

The door closes, and the other two men go quiet. I can feel Nico’s eyes on me, concern radiating from him.

“You okay, mia cara?”

I paste on a smile that feels brittle even to me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… working through some shit, you know?”

He nods, but doesn’t look convinced. The weight of everything suddenly feels suffocating, and I need to escape.

“I think I need a minute,” I mutter, standing up. “I’ll be in my room if you guys need me.”

I don’t wait for a response, practically running up the stairs. Once in my room, I close the door and sit down on my bed, finally letting out the shaky breath I’ve been holding.

The weight of everything crashes down on me, and I feel my shoulders slump. For a moment, I allow myself to feel completely overwhelmed.

My chest tightens, and I struggle to breathe. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I’ve always prided myself on being strong, on handling whatever life throws at me. But this? This feels like more than I can bear.

I know that’s not true though. I just finished promising myself I wouldn’t let it break me, and I won’t. Even the strongest people need a minute to get their shit together sometimes.

The door creaks open, and I quickly try to compose myself. Nico steps in, his eyes full of concern.

“I thought I said I needed to be alone,” I snap, sounding harsher than I intend.

He gives me a look that says he understands but also isn’t bothered by my stand-offish attitude. “Yeah, I know. But I’ve been where you are. I know it’s a shitty place to be.”

I raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

Nico sighs and sits beside me on the bed. “When I was growing up, after my mom died, my dad… he was lost. In gambling, in grief, in his own selfish world. I got used to dealing with everything on my own. Never bothered sharing anything with him because I knew he wouldn’t care or be able to help.”

His words hit close to home, and I feel a lump forming in my throat.

“But you know what?” Nico continues, his voice soft. “I don’t have to do that anymore. And neither do you.”

I stare back at Nico for a moment, my old instincts screaming at me to put up walls, to push him out, to keep him from seeing any of my vulnerabilities.

It’s what I’ve always done. It’s how I’ve survived.

But as I look into his eyes, filled with genuine concern and understanding, I feel something inside me start to crumble.

I let out a shaky breath, pushing past those old self-preservation instincts.

“I just… I don’t understand how this is possible,” I say. “My father raised me to be part of his world. He tried to protect me, sure, but he never hid who he was or what he did from me. At least, I didn’t think so.”

Nico’s hand finds mine, offering silent support as I continue.

“But now? I don’t know what to think anymore. I’m doubting everything. Did he really trust me? Did he love me like I thought he did?” The words tumble out, each one more painful than the last. “He let this secret die with him, Nico. He set me up to be targeted. Why would he do that?”

I stand up abruptly, pacing the room as frustration and hurt bubble up inside me. “He could’ve told me all of this. I wouldn’t have been in the dark, searching for answers while someone manipulated and stalked me from the shadows. It doesn’t make sense!”

My voice cracks on the last word, and I stop pacing, wrapping my arms around myself. “I thought I knew him. I thought we were close. But now? It feels like I didn’t know him at all.”

Nico stands up, moving towards me slowly, like he’s afraid I might bolt. “Quinn, I’m sure your father had his reasons-”

“What reasons could possibly justify this?” I interrupt, anger flaring. “What reason could he have for leaving me vulnerable and unprepared?”

I turn away from Nico, staring out the window. The world outside looks so normal, so unchanged. It’s a stark contrast to how I feel inside—like my entire world has been turned upside down.

“I just… I don’t know how to reconcile the father I knew with the man who would keep something like this from me,” I admit softly. “It feels like betrayal. And I don’t know how to deal with that.”

I turn back to Nico, his words about his own father echoing in my mind. A sudden, terrible thought strikes me, and I feel my stomach drop.

“Was my dad… was he any different from yours in the end?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “Did he just not care enough to tell me?”

The possibility tears at my heart, leaving a raw, aching wound. I’ve always believed my father loved me, that he cared deeply about my well-being. But now, faced with this hidden truth, doubt creeps in like a poison.

“I mean, he left me in the dark about all of this,” I continue, my voice growing thick with emotion. “He had to know how dangerous it was, right? How could he just… not warn me?”

I feel a lump forming in my throat, and my eyes are starting to burn. I blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. I don’t want to cry, but the pain is intense. It’s a lot to fucking deal with.

“What if he didn’t trust me? What if he thought I couldn’t handle it?” The words tumble out, each one more painful than the last. “Or worse, what if he just didn’t care enough to bother?”

I wrap my arms around myself, feeling suddenly cold despite the warmth of the room. The thought that my father might not have cared as much as I believed is like a physical blow, leaving me breathless and shaken.

“I just… I don’t understand,” I say, my voice cracking. “If he really loved me, how could he leave me so unprepared? How could he put me in danger like this?”

Nico reaches out and pulls me towards him. I let him guide me, too emotionally drained to resist. We’re both sitting on the edge of the bed, and I let him draw me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him, facing him directly. His hands come to rest on my hips, steadying me.

“Quinn, listen to me. Your father was nothing like mine. Nothing.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he shakes his head, silencing me.

“You know, Jonah and I were rivals. Enemies. That goes without saying. But even back then, I could see what kind of man he was.”

I know he’s telling the truth—the truth as he knows it, anyway—and all I can do is nod.

“My old man?” he continues, a bitter edge to his voice. “He’s forgotten how shitty he was to me. His mind’s all fuzzy now, and he’s rewritten the past to make himself feel better. But your dad? He was never like that.”

I search Nico’s face, looking for any sign of pity or false comfort. But all I see is sincerity.

“Jonah loved you. That was clear as day to anyone who saw you two together. Whatever reason he had for keeping this from you, I guarantee it wasn’t because he didn’t care or didn’t trust you.”

His words start to chip away at the doubts that have been plaguing me. I want to believe him, desperately.

“But then why—” I start, hating how shaky my voice is right now.

There’s no judgment coming from Nico though. Only compassion.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I do know that he would never have intentionally put you in danger. He must have had a damn good reason for keeping this secret.”

His hands on my hips are grounding, keeping me present as my mind threatens to spiral again.

“You really think so?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “I know so. Look, your dad wasn’t just a good father. He was a good leader too. He looked out for the people he cared about—it’s part of what made him such a pain in my ass sometimes.”