Page 269 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

There’s a moment of quiet as we all take in what this plan against Malcolm could mean—freedom for Quinn, revenge for us, maybe even a chance at something like a normal life. But I can see there’s more she’s not telling us. Something’s weighing on her.

“What is it?” I ask.

She hesitates, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. “I had to go back to him after the last time I was here,” she says finally. “I had to sleep in his bed.”

I feel my muscles lock up, and beside me, Nico and Killian go equally still.

“Nothing happened,” she adds quickly as her eyes dart between us. “I made sure of that. But… he won’t wait forever.”

Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, and it takes everything in me not to put my fist through the nearest wall.

“He’s fucking creepy,” she continues, wrapping her arms around herself. “The way he looks at me and talks about my mother. I don’t understand why he’s so obsessed.”

I reach for her, but she straightens her spine and lifts her chin. “I’m okay,” she insists. “I can handle it. I only have to wait a little longer until we can spring the trap on him.”

Her voice is steady, but I notice the goosebumps that scatter across her skin and the slight tremor in her hands that she tries to hide. She’s putting on a brave face, and it makes me want to tear Malcolm Mercer apart with my bare hands.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all,” Nico grumbles.

“What choice do I have? If I try to run, he’ll hunt us all down. This is the only way.”

Killian sets Princess down gently and moves toward Quinn. “We could end this tonight,” he says. “One bullet. Problem solved.”

She shakes her head. “And then what? The entire Syndicate would come after us. This way, we take out Malcolm and neutralize the Syndicate threat in one move.”

“She’s right,” I admit reluctantly. “Doesn’t mean we have to fucking like it though.”

I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing right now—imagining that bastard putting his hands on Quinn and forcing her into his bed. I need to change the subject before one of us snaps and does something stupid.

Then I remember the surprise we have in store for her.

“We have something that might take your mind off all this for a while,” I say.

Quinn looks up and flashes me a curious look. “You do?”

“Yep. Come on.” I jerk my head toward the back door. “We want to show you something.”

She follows us through the kitchen and out the back door of the house. The small yard is mostly dirt and gravel, surrounded by a chain-link fence, but what’s parked there makes it look like fucking paradise to me.

Four motorcycles are sitting there gleaming under the security light—three massive, powerful machines and one slightly smaller sport bike with custom teal accents that match Quinn’s hair.

Her eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

“Kendrick came through,” Nico explains, running his hand over the sleek black tank of his bike. “Called in some favors with an old connection through Carnage. We’re rebuilding, piece by piece.”

“And you got one for me,” she says, moving toward the teal motorcycle like she’s in a trance.

“It’s not your old one,” Killian says. “But it should handle similarly.”

Quinn circles the bike, her fingers trailing over the handlebars, the seat, the polished chrome. I can’t take my eyes off her face—the pure joy there makes my chest tighten in a way I can’t explain.

“You like it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

She turns to us, a wild grin spreading across her face. “I fucking love it. Can we ride?”

As excited as she is, there’s no way I could deny her anything in the fucking world if she asked for it. But that’s one of the reasons I’m not the leader here.

We turn to Nico, and I can tell he wants to give in too. Still, he hesitates. “It’s risky.”

“We’ve got helmets,” I point out, nodding to the gear hanging on hooks by the back door. “Full face, with visors. No one would recognize us.”

“And we can stay off the main roads,” Killian adds. “We should be able to avoid the traffic cameras that way.”

Quinn looks between us all, practically vibrating with anticipation. “Please?” she asks. “I need this.”

And fuck, how can any of us say no to that?

Five minutes later, we’re suited up and rolling out, taking the back alley that leads away from the main streets.

Quinn rides like she was born to do it, her body seemingly fused to the bike beneath her.

Between the confidence in her posture and the easy way she handles the machine, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop staring.

We wind our way through mostly empty industrial areas, heading out of the city and onto the back roads where the chances of being spotted are slim to none.

Beside me, Quinn opens the throttle and pulls ahead with a burst of speed. I grin inside my helmet and chase after her, with Nico and Killian close behind. For a few precious minutes, there’s nothing but the four of us, the open road, and the kind of freedom we haven’t felt in a long fucking time.

The farther we get from the city, the more a crazy idea takes hold in my mind. What if we just kept going? What if we rode straight through the night, crossed state lines, and disappeared somewhere Malcolm and his goons would never find us?

Part of me—the part that’s tired of being separated—wants to suggest it. To convince Quinn to run away with us, no matter what the fucking consequences might be.

But I know she’d never go for it. I don’t call her vicious for being a runner. She’s a fucking fighter, and she always will be. I know in my gut that she’s going to stay and face this head-on, take Malcolm down, and reclaim her life on her terms.

And goddamn if that doesn’t make me love her even more.

I glance over at her as we cruise side by side down an empty stretch of road. Even with her face hidden behind the helmet’s visor, I can sense her happiness and determination.

The sight of her on that bike, powerful and in control, sends a jolt of heat straight through my veins. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her—not just physically, but all of her. Her strength, her fire, her courage in the face of impossible odds.

I guide my bike closer to hers, until we’re riding nearly handlebar to handlebar. She turns her head slightly toward me, and I reach out, letting my hand rest briefly on her thigh.

She stiffens in surprise but doesn’t pull away. I slide my hand higher, until I can feel the heat of her pussy radiating through her jeans.

With one eye on the road and one hand on my handlebars, I let my other hand start to explore—rubbing and massaging her inner thigh, working my way higher and higher.

I glance over and see her chest rising and falling faster as she sucks in a deep breath and lets her thighs fall open. She gives a small nod inside her helmet.

Go ahead.

I press harder, teasing her clit through her jeans and making her rock her hips against the seat. Between my hand and the vibrations beneath her, I know I can make her come in a matter of minutes if I want to. Maybe only seconds.

My cock is getting painfully hard inside my jeans, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to pull the bike over right here and lay her out in the dirt to fuck her like we both need.

That’ll have to wait, though, because Killian is pulling up on the other side of her to join the party. He reaches out, his hand finding her breast and squeezing hard enough to make her buck against my hand again.

I can’t hear her moaning, but I know she is, and that’s enough to send another bolt of heat straight to my dick.

Killian leans in closer, his fingers pinching and tugging at her nipple through her clothes while I work her clit. Yeah, she’s really fucking close to coming now. I can tell by the way her body goes rigid, the way her thighs tense.

We ride on, our hands stroking and caressing her through her clothes, working her over until her back arches and I know it’s time.

I wish I could hear her, but the feeling of her body tensing under our hands is enough. I ride the line of her orgasm, keeping her there as long as I can until her body tenses and shudders, and I can’t fucking take it anymore.

I signal for us to stop, and all four of us pull over in a spray of gravel. We’re spread across half this back road, but I don’t fucking care. We haven’t seen another car for miles, and if we do now?

They can sit back and enjoy the free show.

I swing my leg off my bike and put the kickstand down, barely giving Quinn time to do the same before I pull her close. The second our helmets are off, my mouth is crashing against hers, kissing her long and hard and deep as Nico and Killian watch from a few feet away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” I growl between kisses. “I can’t even tell you how bad I wanna bend you over this bike and fuck you right here, right now.”

“Oh, fuck, Atlas,” she moans as I squeeze her perfect ass through her jeans with both hands. “I want that too. I wanted it that night I came to the party at the club house when you told me to go home or you’d fuck me over my bike. Do you remember?”

“Fuck, how could I forget? I think about that night all the time.”

She pulls back just far enough to look into my eyes, then smiles up at me in a way that makes my cock throb hard against her belly. “Then do it now.”