Page 156 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

Vic leads us all upstairs, and I watch as he settles in front of a bank of computers in what looks like some kind of command room, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

The soft clacking fills the tense silence between everyone as my men stand behind me, their arms crossed and their attention focused on Vic.

Malice and Ransom hover nearby, their eyes darting between the screen and us.

Willow is standing in the doorway, and after a few moments, she steps forward and takes the sleeping baby from Malice’s arms.

“Quinn,” she says quietly, glancing at me and then jerking her chin toward the door. “Can we talk while Vic works?”

I nod and step away from my men to follow her, giving them a reassuring look as I go.

It might not be obvious to people who don’t know them as well as I do by now, but I can tell that Killian and Nico are both on edge, their muscles taut like wire.

Even surrounded by people who have shown themselves to be our friends—or at least friendly—they aren’t taking anything for granted.

But then, I guess we’ve been fooled before. That’s why we’re here now, thanks to Ambrose’s double-crossing bullshit.

Willow leads me downstairs, and I glance around at the warehouse space as we go, momentarily pulled out of the worries cascading through my head as I take in the space.

It’s large and open, the kind of building that could easily feel cold, but there’s a comfortable, lived-in vibe to it. They’ve truly turned it into a home.

“What happened with Atlas?” Willow asks as we settle onto the couch in the living room, cradling Dayana in the crook of her arm.

My stomach twists into a knot. I figured that question would be coming at some point, but it still makes me wince a little to hear his name.

“We were ambushed,” I say in a low voice, trying to decide how much is safe to divulge. “By… an old enemy of my father’s, in a way. He and his men took Atlas, and it has something to do with the Dark Lotus Syndicate.”

Willow’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t interrupt me.

So I continue, carefully choosing my words.

“We’re not sure where they’ve taken him, but I need to make contact with the Syndicate if I want to have a chance in hell of getting him back.

According to what Vic told us last time he did research on that organization, Malcolm is their leader.

So any new information we can find out about him will be helpful at this point.

If we can’t track him down, Atlas will die. ”

I feel my throat tighten as I speak. It’s one thing to have these dark thoughts running through my mind twenty-four-seven. It’s a whole other fucking thing to say them out loud. It makes us look weak, like we can’t take care of our own, and that’s never a good thing.

But there’s no getting around the fact that Atlas is gone, and we’re grasping at straws.

Willow must see the struggle in my eyes because she reaches out, resting a comforting hand on my arm.

“You’ll get him back, Quinn,” she says softly. “Vic will come up with something.”

I nod, not fully trusting myself to say much more. Even if I wanted to talk, to tell her the whole fucked up story, I’m not sure I could get any more words out past the thick fucking lump in my throat. The one that always seems to appear at the mention of Atlas’s name.

“Thanks.” I swallow hard and force a half-smile.

It’s the least I can do to acknowledge the fact that they’re putting their asses on the line for us.

“We appreciate the help, truly. It won’t be forgotten.

” I huff out a humorless laugh. “Atlas was my enemy, once upon a time. But now…” I blink, my eyes stinging.

“I’d do fucking anything to get him back. ”

Willow nods. She opens her mouth to say something, but then her attention shifts to Dayana, who’s starting to fuss.

I watch her coo softly to the little girl, bouncing her gently in her arms, as I try to wrestle my emotions back under control.

After a minute or so, Dayana lets out a little sigh and goes back to sleep.

Willow gazes at her daughter for a heartbeat, then looks back up at me, a wistful expression on her face.

“I don’t know if this will help at all, but… I get it,” she says softly. “This whole situation reminds me of how things were for me at first.”

I frown at her, curious. “What do you mean?”

She kisses the top of her sleeping daughter’s head as a faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “With Malice, Vic, and Ransom. When I first met the three of them, I thought they were the enemy. I was convinced I could never care for them, let alone love them.”

Her words hit close to home. She might as well be describing the way I felt about Atlas, Nico, and Killian in the beginning—until suddenly, I didn’t. In spite of everything that’s gone wrong lately, there was a lot that felt really fucking right when the four of us were together.

“But then,” she continues, “everything changed. It happened so fast, I barely realized what was going on at the time. But one day I woke up and knew I couldn’t live without them.

It was like a switch had flipped in my brain.

Or maybe it came on slowly, but I was too busy insisting on keeping walls up between us to notice that they’d already slipped past those walls and straight into my heart. ”

Shit, is she trying to make me cry? I clear my throat, wiping the back of my hand over my eyes as I glance away. “Yeah,” I say roughly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Willow rests a hand on my arm, and when I look back at her, I see understanding in her gaze. “That’s why I know you’ll find Atlas,” she murmurs. “When you love someone that deeply, giving up isn’t an option.”

“You’re right. It’s just…” I trail off, struggling to find the words. “I never expected to feel all of this, you know? These emotions, they’re so fucking intense sometimes. All the time.”

My voice breaks, and I hate how vulnerable I sound. But there’s no judgment in Willow’s eyes as she chuckles softly, nodding. “I get that.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if Atlas dies because of me,” I admit quietly, to myself as much as to her. “It’s my fault he’s in this fucked up mess. If I hadn’t gotten involved with him and the rest of the Princes…”

Willow shifts Dayana to her other hip, her eyes soft with empathy. “It’s not your fault. But it’s hard, isn’t it? Having your heart live outside of your body like that.”

I nod, unable to say anything else for a moment while I pull myself back together.

She looks down at her daughter, a soft smile curving her lips.

“But you know what? It’s worth it.” Her finger traces Dayana’s chubby cheek.

“This little one… those three men upstairs… they’re my everything.

The risk? The fear? It’s all worth it. Even though there were plenty of moments when I thought I couldn’t push through, I’d do it all over again if I knew it would lead me here. ”

“I hope you’re right,” I murmur, my eyes drifting toward the stairs as I think of the two men up there with the Voronin brothers—and the one who’s missing, his absence like a hole in my heart. “I really fucking hope that you’re right.”

She starts to say something else, but a loud beeping sound suddenly rings out from the kitchen area. We both jump, and her eyes go wide as we look toward the sound at the same time. For a split-second, she looks as confused as I feel. Then she jumps into action.

“Oh shit, the bread!” Without hesitation, she passes Dayana into my arms. “Here, hold her for a sec. I’ll be right back.”

Before I can fully register what’s happening, I find myself cradling the little girl, who wakes up as I awkwardly adjust her in my arms. Dayana blinks up at me with big, curious eyes, and I freeze, unsure of what to do. I haven’t been around babies much, and holding one feels completely foreign.

“Uh, hey there, cutie,” I mumble, bouncing her a little. Dayana coos, reaching up to pat my face with her chubby hand. The whole situation is awkward beyond belief, but I can’t help smiling. Awkward or not, she’s pretty damn adorable.

Willow rushes back into the room a moment later, flour dusting her cheeks. “Crisis averted,” she announces with a grin. “Sorry about that. I’ve been trying to perfect this sourdough recipe for weeks.”

I nod, still focused on not dropping the baby in my arms. She’s so fucking small. “No worries. We’re, uh, we’re getting along just fine here.”

Willow laughs, her brown eyes softening as she watches us. “You’re a natural. Who would’ve thought?”

“Yeah, right.” I snort, even though I’m still smiling. “This is definitely not my usual gig.”

“Well, you’re doing great. Actually, do you mind holding her for a second longer? I’ve been meaning to pick up a little, and she gets fussy if I do it while I’m holding her.”

“Sure.” I nod, trying not to look terrified. I’m a badass gang leader, for fuck’s sake. I’ve fought men twice my size and won. A baby shouldn’t be scarier than that.

As Willow bustles around, tidying up some toys scattered on the floor, I watch her, struck suddenly by how… normal it all is. Domestic. Sweet, even. It’s a far cry from the chaos and danger that’s become my daily life.

“This is nice,” I comment, gesturing with my chin since I don’t dare disturb my grip on Dayana. “Your life here, I mean. It seems peaceful.”

Willow’s gaze follows mine, her delicate features lighting up. “It really is nice. I never thought I’d have this kind of life, but I love it more than I can say. Malice, Vic, and Ransom are all amazing fathers, and they make me feel so adored, every single day.”

She flushes a little as she speaks, and given the hungry way I’ve seen all three of her men look at her, I have a good idea exactly how they make her feel ‘adored.’ I can’t help but chuckle at that. It’s clear there’s a lot more going on behind closed doors than she’s letting on.

I can relate to that too.