Page 217 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

He jerks hard before “two” can leave his mouth, popping his shoulder back into place with a sickening crunch. The son of a bitch doesn’t even cry out—just hisses through his teeth like he’s stubbed his toe instead of resetting a dislocated fucking shoulder.

“You’re supposed to wait for three, you psychotic fuck,” I tell him, but there’s no heat in it. This is classic Killian—doing things his way, pain be damned.

He rotates the shoulder carefully, testing its range. “Three is an overrated number,” he says with a grimace that might be trying to pass for a smile. “Besides, we’ve got more pressing problems.”

As if to prove his point, a burst of gunfire peppers the roof’s edge near Atlas. He ducks and returns fire, but we all hear the click of his empty magazine.

“That’s my last one,” he reports, jaw tight. Killian immediately tosses him a spare mag. The movement makes him wince, but his throw is dead accurate. Even injured, he’s got our backs.

The roof access door shudders as someone hits it from the other side. Quinn shifts her position so her weapon is trained on the entry point. “If you’re done playing doctor,” she says, “we could use another gun up here.”

Killian checks his weapon one-handed, that familiar predatory gleam returning to his eyes. “Let’s give these fuckers a proper welcome,” he says, moving into position. But we all know we’re running out of time and options.

Quinn catches my eye across the roof, and in that single look, I see everything. The fierce determination that first drew me to her. The iron will that’s kept her standing through all this shit. And underneath it all, the fear she won’t admit to anyone—not even herself.

But it’s not fear for her own life. No, she’s afraid of losing us. It’ll kill her to watch her men die on this rooftop because her plan went to hell.

I know that look because I’ve worn it myself. I’ve seen it in the mirror every time I’ve had to make a call that could get my brothers killed. The weight of command is a heavy fucking burden, and right now it’s crushing her.

Another explosion of gunfire forces us both into cover. Atlas shouts a warning as more mercs appear on the neighboring roof. They’re getting bold now, knowing we’re running low on ammo and they’ve got us cornered like rats.

When Quinn looks at me again, I can see the gears turning in her head. She’s got that expression she gets right before doing something crazy—something that could either save us all or get us killed faster.

“Don’t,” I say, although I’m not even sure what I’m trying to stop her from doing. I just know in my gut that whatever she’s planning, it’s going to cost her. It might cost all of us.

She shakes her head with that stubborn set to her jaw that drives me fucking crazy in the best and worst ways. “We’re out of options,” she says, her voice barely audible over the chaos around us.

Killian curses as he ducks another burst of fire. His injured shoulder is making him slower than usual, but I’d still take one injured Killian over three of their guys. Atlas is down to his last magazine, and the door to the roof access is starting to buckle under the assault.

Quinn’s hand moves toward her phone, and suddenly I know exactly what she’s willing to sacrifice to keep us alive.

The look we share now is different. It’s raw and filled with all the words we never seem to say until it’s almost too late. Until death is breathing down our necks and time is running out.

“There’s no other way,” she says softly.

I know what she’s about to do—what she thinks she has to do—and every instinct in my body screams to stop her. There has to be another way out of this mess that doesn’t involve her owing more to those Dark Lotus vultures.

“Don’t do this,” I growl, but another burst of gunfire drowns out my words. Atlas shouts a warning as more mercs appear on the adjacent rooftop. They’re getting closer and more confident with each passing second.

Quinn’s fingers close around her phone just as Killian takes a shot that comes too fucking close. His grunt of pain makes her fingers tighten on the device. I can see it in her eyes—each near miss, each time one of us almost takes a bullet, it’s killing her inside.

“We’re out of options,” she says with that steel in her voice that means her mind’s made up. “I’m not watching you die up here. Not when I can stop it.”

My jaw tightens. Using that last votum… fuck. The Dark Lotus Syndicate already sees her as a threat. Using her final favor like this, demanding immediate action without a proper meeting, will put an even bigger target on her back.

She must see the war playing out on my face because her expression softens for just a moment. “I can handle whatever comes next,” she says. “But I can’t handle losing you. Any of you.”

The raw honesty in her voice hits me harder than any bullet. This is my woman, my love—ready to sacrifice everything to keep her family safe. Just like I’d do for her. Just like any of us would.

More gunfire peppers the roof around us, and Quinn’s fingers move to unlock her phone. Our time is up. We’re out of options, out of ammo, out of everything except her final card to play.

I reach for Quinn’s hand, trying one last time to stop her from making this call and putting herself even deeper in debt to those Syndicate vultures. But she yanks away from me with fire blazing in her eyes.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she snarls, ducking as another bullet whizzes past. “Don’t try to protect me. Not from this. Not when your lives are on the line.”

A crash from the stairwell makes us all tense. They’re almost through. Atlas fires his last rounds, buying us precious seconds, while Killian positions himself to cover our blind spot despite his fucked-up shoulder.

“The Dark Lotus Syndicate will make you pay for this,” I warn her, because she has to understand. She has to know what she’s risking. “Using your last votum like this—demanding immediate action—they’ll see it as a step too far, or some kind of fucked up challenge.”

“You think I give a fuck?” Her voice is raw with emotion.

“You think I care what those bastards think of me? Or what they’ll do to me?

” She grabs my jacket, pulling me close enough that I can see the tears she’s fighting back.

“I’d rather deal with their shit for the rest of my life than watch you die up here.

Because I fucking love you, you stubborn asshole. ”

The raw honesty in her voice hits me like a physical blow. Around us, gunfire continues to rain down. Killian curses as he takes cover, and Atlas shouts something about more hostiles approaching. But for just a moment, time seems to stop.

This is Quinn Kent—the woman who fought us, fucked us, married me, and somehow managed to claim every piece of my soul along the way. And now she’s ready to sacrifice everything to keep us alive.

“I love you,” she repeats, softer now but just as fierce. “All of you. And I’m not letting this end here.”

Quinn’s fingers don’t shake as she hits Malcolm’s number. Her voice is pure steel when he answers, even with bullets still flying around us.

“I’m calling in my last votum,” she says without fucking around. “Right now.”

I can’t hear Malcolm’s response, but from the way Quinn’s jaw tightens, I know he’s not happy about being woken up for this shit. Too fucking bad.

“There’s no time for a meeting,” she cuts him off.

“No, and I don’t have time for any of your bureaucratic bullshit.

I need the Syndicate’s help now.” Another burst of gunfire punctuates her words as Ambrose’s men try to push forward.

Atlas takes out one of them with his last bullet, but there are too many more waiting to take his place.

Quinn’s eyes narrow at whatever Malcolm says next. “You know the rules,” she reminds him. “No questions asked. No hesitation. That’s what I agreed to when I joined.” She pauses, listening. “Either honor the votum now, or admit the Dark Lotus Syndicate’s word means jack shit.”

Oh, fuck. She’s not just asking for help. She’s challenging them and making it impossible for Malcolm to refuse without undermining the Syndicate’s entire power structure.

“We’re on the roof of the old Maxwell building,” she says after a moment. “Surrounded by heavily armed mercenaries. I need them eliminated.” She rattles off more details about our location and Ambrose’s forces.

The roof access door splinters a little more. Killian positions himself to take the first wave, but we all know we can’t hold them off much longer.

Quinn’s expression hardens at Malcolm’s response. “I don’t care how you do it. Just get it done.” She hangs up, meeting my eyes. “Help is coming.”

“How long?” Atlas asks, reloading with his final magazine.

“Soon,” she says. But we can all hear what she’s not saying. The question isn’t whether the Dark Lotus Syndicate will save us—it’s what price they’ll demand for this favor once the dust settles.