Page 267 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

I give him a look that suggests I’m questioning his intelligence.

“Have you seen Malcolm’s furniture? His Moroccan silk rugs?

His meticulous taste in decor?” I shake my head.

“As much as I enjoy this little creature’s company, I’m not risking his expensive antiques getting covered in cat hair. Or worse.”

The driver nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Besides,” I add, “the cat will be good company for my people working late renovating the parlor. She’ll be an adorable little morale boost.” I meet his eyes again in the mirror. “My husband understands the importance of keeping one’s people happy and loyal.”

That seems to settle it. The driver falls silent and focuses on the road while Princess purrs contentedly in my lap, blissfully unaware of how she’s being used as a pawn in my increasingly complicated game of chess.

There really is something soothing about her presence—a small spot of warmth and normalcy in my fucked-up existence. I scratch behind her ears, and her purr deepens, vibrating against my hand.

The tattoo parlor is coming along nicely. When we arrive, I see that Damon and Tanner are inside, working on drywall. They both straighten up when I walk in, surprise registering on their faces when they see the cat.

“Is that our new mascot?” Damon asks, wiping dust from his hands onto his jeans.

“Something like that,” I say, before lowering my voice. “Damon, can you make a call on your phone for me? I need to get a cab.”

His brow furrows. “There’s a landline in the back?—”

“I’d rather not use that line,” I cut him off, giving him a meaningful look. “It’s… personal.”

I actually doubt that Malcolm has gone so far as to bug my phone lines here, but I wouldn’t put it past him. And regardless, it’s not worth taking the risk.

Understanding dawns in his eyes. “Sure thing.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and starts to dial. “Whatever you need.”

“Thanks.” I motion for him to follow me toward the back of the shop. “Can you have a cab pick me up in the alley behind Mickey’s in ten minutes? Under your name, not mine.”

Damon nods. “You got it.”

“And if anyone asks, I left the cat here with you,” I add.

“Understood.” He doesn’t ask too many questions, which is one of the reasons I like having him around. “Everything okay, Quinn?”

“Getting there,” I say, allowing myself a small, genuine smile. “I think things might finally be turning our way.”

“Thanks,” I say once he’s made the call. “I’ll check in on progress again soon.” Loud enough for Tanner to hear, I add, “The place is looking good.”

“It’s coming along pretty well,” Tanner confirms with a nod. “We should be ready for a soft opening in a few weeks.”

“Perfect.” I shift Princess in my arms. “I’m heading out the back. If anyone asks?—”

“You’re still here, working on design plans,” Damon finishes for me. He gestures to the cat. “And she’s keeping the mice away.”

I flash him a grateful smile. “Exactly.”

I slip through the back room and down the stairs to the basement, knowing I only have a few minutes to get through the tunnel and to the alley before the cab arrives.

Princess mewls in protest as I navigate the narrow passageway a bit faster than is comfortable, but she stays nestled in my arms, surprisingly docile for a cat experiencing such an unusual little trip.

When I emerge from the basement of Mickey’s bar, he’s wiping down the counter and has a few early evening regulars scattered at tables. He raises an eyebrow when he sees me walk in with a cat in my arms.

“Don’t ask,” I mutter as I pass him.

He just jerks his thumb toward the back door. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Thanks, Mickey.”

“There’s a cab waiting outside,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Looking for Damon.”

I nod, grateful for his silent understanding. “I was never here.”

“Who was never where?” he replies with a wink, already turning back to his customers.

I slip out the back door and see the cab waiting, just like Mickey said it would be.

The driver barely glances at the cat as I slide into the backseat and give an address two blocks from the safe house.

It’s dusk by now, but I don’t want anyone knowing exactly where I’m heading or exactly where I came from.

As we drive, I keep checking the sparse traffic behind us, making sure we’re not being followed. The cab driver, mercifully, seems to be the non-talkative type, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the purring weight of Princess in my lap.

I pay the driver quickly when we arrive at the drop-off point and wait until the cab disappears around the corner before changing direction and heading toward the safe house. My steps are quick but measured—too casual might draw attention, too hurried might look suspicious.

Fuck, I miss my men. I miss them every second I’m away from them. The thought of seeing them again, of being able to share the first good news I’ve had in days, makes my pulse quicken.

I pause at the corner, checking one last time for any signs that I’m being watched, then approach the door.

There’s a pause after I knock, and then the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

The door swings open, and Killian fills the frame, one hand hidden behind his back where I know he’s holding a gun.

His expression shifts from caution to disbelief, then to excitement, all in the same instant. Then his eyes drop to the cat in my arms, and something I can only describe as boyish joy crosses his face.

“Look who I brought,” I say, lifting Princess a little higher. “And we’ve both missed you.”

For a tough-as-nails psychopath, the way Killian’s eyes light up at the sight of his cat is almost comical.

In one smooth motion, he holsters his gun, leans in and crushes his mouth against mine in a hard, hungry kiss.

His free hand cups the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he devours me.

We’re both being careful of the cat, but I still kiss him back just as fiercely, unwilling to break contact even for a second. When we finally part, both breathless, there’s a wild look in his eyes that makes heat pool low in my belly.

“Missed you too, siren,” he growls against my lips before stepping back to let me in.