Page 58 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

I feel rooted to my seat as Killian speaks, and I just keep staring at him, so thrown by this gesture. His words reverberate through my head, and I’m caught up in emotions that I can’t hold back.

I swallow hard, my eyes prickling with unshed tears.

It’s hard to know how to react to this. No one has ever brought me a bag of fucking hands before.

If my father had known, he would have killed those men, and he would have made it painful, but he probably wouldn’t have brought me a trophy from it.

There’s something about this gesture that’s uniquely Killian.

“I… thank you,” I finally say.

It feels… I don’t know. Like maybe not the right thing to say in this moment, but it’s all I’ve got. I’m still pissed at him, but this goes a long way toward softening me a bit in his direction.

Nico and Atlas are still standing there, looking between the two of us while they try to piece together what’s happening.

“You brought Quinn a bag of hands,” Nico finally says, speaking slowly. “That’s why these are here.”

Killian nods once.

“Okay. Why?”

“And whose hands are they?” Atlas wants to know.

“They came from members of the Bullets gang. Five of them, if we’re being precise,” Killian replies.

Disbelief flashes in Nico’s eyes as he rounds on Killian. “You went after another gang? Without running it by me first? What the hell were you thinking? We’ve already got enough problems without pissing off more gangs.”

Killian shrugs one shoulder, his expression never changing. “No one saw me. And they had it coming. Ever since they crossed Quinn, they’ve been living on borrowed time.”

Both Atlas and Nico look to me and then back to Killian, but he doesn’t elaborate any more.

I’m grateful that he doesn’t tell them the whole thing. It’s bad enough that I fell apart in front of Killian, shaking and gasping as the PTSD rose up like a monster inside me, but I really don’t want to discuss what happened that night at the breakfast table in front of the other two.

All the same, it’s clear that they have enough information to start putting some of the pieces together.

After all, taking someone’s hand is a popular punishment for having the audacity to touch something that doesn’t belong to them.

Nico sighs and rubs his forehead, but nods. “Alright,” he says. “That’s justified.”

“Could we at least take the bag off the table?” Atlas puts in. “I’d like to eat breakfast, and I can’t do that with the bag just… sitting right there.”

I roll my eyes but pick up the bag of disembodied hands, tying it closed again and putting it on the floor.

“Speaking of not accumulating more enemies,” Nico begins after a moment, finally changing the subject.

“We need to go meet with the Young Killers today. Atlas filled me in on everything else Vincent told the two of you last night. We don’t need our alliance against this Silas fucker to bring more enemies out of the woodwork if people think we’ve teamed up to take out smaller gangs. ”

I nod because he’s right, even if my head is still a million miles away right now. “What do you suggest?”

“We have a meeting set up for later today. We’ll all go.”

As Atlas pours himself a bowl of cereal, he and Nico fill Killian in on what we learned last night, updating him on everything from the fact that we finally have a name for our faceless enemy to the warning Vincent gave us about the Young Killers being suspicious about our alliance.

Nico makes himself some breakfast too, and even Killian eats something as they discuss these new developments.

I finish my cereal, but don’t really taste it.

It feels like I’m moving on autopilot as I gather up my dishes and put them in the sink, then take the bag with me upstairs before Atlas can complain about it still being in the kitchen.

All I can really think about is what Killian did.

I know it doesn’t take much for him to kill someone, and he’s been used as a sort of executioner for the Princes of Carnage before. But this is different.

The Bullets didn’t cross Nico or the Princes. The Bullets fucked with me . And now they’re all dead.

The fact that Killian did this on my behalf floors me.

Ever since my dad died, I’ve felt like I’m completely on my own. Even though I’ve got an entire gang ready to follow my commands and back me up, that’s different. I have people I trust in Enigma, people I consider friends. But they’re all looking to me to lead them, to be strong for them.

I haven’t felt like anyone has completely had my back since my dad was killed.

And now, with Killian and the other two… I feel less alone.

I still have no idea what to do with that. I don’t know whether I can trust this feeling or not. But when I think about the hands Killian gave me, I can’t help but smile.

It’s a dark, violent gift. Something anyone who doesn’t live the kind of life we do would never understand. But for me? It was the perfect gift. The perfect peace offering.

I shake myself out of my thoughts after a while, focusing up as I shower and change. Then I make my way back downstairs to wait for the guys.

Once they’re all dressed and ready to go, we head out to meet with the Young Killers.

We go to their territory for the meeting, which already puts me on edge.

It’s easier to do this kind of shit on neutral ground, to make sure no one gets ahead of themselves or too big for their britches.

Nico and I have both had dealings with them before.

Just small stuff, nothing noteworthy, but if they’ve got it in their heads that they want trouble, I don’t want to be deep in their territory when shit pops off.

The spot they picked is an abandoned laundromat, with cracked, dirty floors and the outlines of the machines that used to occupy the space still visible on the worn out linoleum.

We all file in together, and a few of the gang members watch as we enter the space.

I can feel eyes tracking us, feel the tension in the air, even though there’s nothing about this that’s supposed to be hostile yet.

Nico, Atlas, and Killian stand to one side as we wait to speak to the Young Killers leader, talking quietly amongst themselves, and I take the chance to step away a little and scope things out. We’re not in their headquarters, I know that much, and it’s not as exposed as it could be.

If things break bad, we might be able to get out of here without too much hassle.

One of the members of the gang who has been watching us since we got here finally breaks away from the others and comes over to me.

I can tell from the way he carries himself that he’s lower level in the gang. Someone who wants to climb the ranks but probably has no patience. He has that jumped up, eager dog look about him.

That usually spells trouble.

Before I can say anything, he grabs my arm hard and pulls me into a little alcove that probably housed extra washing machines, getting close in my face.

“I know you’re gunning for more,” he spits, his voice low. “Enigma was never satisfied with what they had. Your father was always looking for toes to step on and people to cross, and you’re the fucking same. Getting Carnage involved isn’t gonna help you.”

I narrow my eyes and take a deep breath, trying not to fly off the handle. “Get your hand off me,” I tell him coldly.

His fingers dig in for a second, and I wonder if I’m going to have to break his hand to get him to let me go. That wouldn’t be a great start to our “peace negotiations.” But then he releases me, stepping back.

Clenching my jaw, I shove past him and out of the alcove, walking over to rejoin the three Princes. Anger roils in my belly, but I take a few deep breaths, trying to get my emotions back under control.

“There you are,” Nico says as I step up beside him. “Where were you?”

He looks me up and down, and his gaze lands immediately on the red finger marks on my arm from how tightly that fucker was holding on to me.

His face goes flat and angry, and he steps in closer, dropping his voice. “Who the fuck did that to you?”

“It’s not a big deal,” I tell him, shaking my head. “Don’t start shit over this. You were just bitching at Killian this morning for starting shit with other gangs.”

His eyes flash. “Quinn.”

“Nico, I’m serious. Drop it. It’s nothing .”

“It’s not nothing.” His voice is low and intense. “Someone grabbed you hard enough to leave a mark behind. I don’t give a fuck why they did it, they had no goddamn right. So you either tell me who it was, or I’ll kill everyone in this room just to make sure I get the point across.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that I take a half step back, blinking in surprise. I’m not sure if he’s serious or if he’s just throwing his weight around.

But after what Killian did this morning, I’m not sure if I should test him.

“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath. “Fine. It was that guy over there.” I jerk my thumb in the direction of the man who grabbed me. “Are you happy now?”

Nico gives me a hard smile, his eyes cold. “Thrilled.”

Without waiting for me to respond to that, he walks over, pulls out his gun, and shoots the man who grabbed me in the head.

The guy goes down hard, crumpling to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

For a split second, no one reacts, the sound of the gunshot still reverberating through the air as all the oxygen seems to be sucked out of the room.

Then all of the Young Killers snap out of their shock at once, angry shouts filling the silence. They all pull their own weapons, aiming them at Nico, and at the rest of us too.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

I’m instantly on alert, my muscles tensing. My adrenaline spikes, my body slipping instinctively into a fighting stance in case we have to battle our way out of here.