Page 62 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

I’m at the tattoo parlor a few days later, handling business in the evening with several Enigma members. Emmett is there too, sitting at my side while we go over reports.

One of the downsides to having to be so fucking cautious due to the Silas threat is that our business has slowed down a lot.

There haven’t been any other attacks on the gang, but at the same time, we’re slowly starting to wither on the vine.

Being stagnant is basically a death sentence for a small gang, and we’re treading water in a way that I don’t like.

If we can’t start operating as normal soon, we’ll really feel it.

I knew that, logically. I know enough about how gangs run in general and how Enigma works specifically to know that we can’t afford to pull back completely or stop trying to expand in little ways.

But seeing it laid out in front of me in the accounts and the looks on my people’s faces just really drives the point home.

And it’s frustrating as fuck, because there’s not really anything else I can do. I have to keep my people safe, which means sending them out in bigger teams and avoiding certain areas. That means we have less manpower and a smaller radius we can work in. Which means less money coming in.

Getting the name Silas Duran and finding out that he’s probably the person we’re looking for was such a good break. It finally felt like we were making some kind of progress with this hunt. But things have seemed to stall since then.

We’re not having any luck connecting that name to the actual flesh-and-blood man we can go after. And without a lead on where to find him or how to stop him, we’re basically right back at square one.

“So… what’s the plan?”

The question shakes me out of my thoughts, and I look up to see the gathered members of the gang watching me. Some of them look tired, others look wary, but no one looks thrilled to be here or to be hearing about how we’re floundering.

Emmett’s lips are drawn tight, his brow furrowed. “Quinn?” he asks.

“We have the name,” I tell them, trying to lean on that as good news.

“And we’re doing all we can to track him down.

For now we just have to… survive. Just long enough for us to take this fucker down.

Once that happens, things will turn around.

We can go back to our usual operations, and maybe expand into a few more areas to recover some of the business we’ve lost over these last few weeks. ”

No one seems reassured by that, and I can see frowns and hear a few people muttering to each other. It makes me wish my dad was here so fiercely for a moment.

He had a way of getting people to believe in him. A way of making them want to follow him, even if his plan was half-baked and not well thought out.

It feels like I’m doing my best to live up to that, but falling so short of it.

“I know things have been rough lately. Believe me, I know. But we just have to hunker down and deal with it for now. I’m committed to making sure we don’t lose anyone else. I’m not going to risk your lives until we kill this fucker.”

Not even that seems to lift their spirits. They all look as frustrated as I feel, and I get that. Luckily, no one seems to be willing to speak up to voice their displeasure.

At least until Emmett clears his throat.

I look over at him, and he has an apologetic look on his face. “Are we still sure that this alliance with Carnage is the best plan?” he asks. “I mean, if they?—”

“We’re not getting into this again.” I shake my head quickly, cutting him off before he can say anything else about it. “We need their help, and they need ours.”

“Okay,” he murmurs.

I let out a breath, suddenly so fucking exhausted. All I want is to bring this meeting to a close.

“We’re going to be okay,” I promise the gang. “I’m not going to let this sink us. Alright, that’s all I’ve got for now. You’re dismissed. Stay safe, and stay alert.”

It’s hard to tell how much they believe me, but they all file out without further complaint. Getting through a meeting without full-on insubordination feels like a win, although it probably shouldn’t be such a low bar. But with the tension as high as it is…

I sigh, rubbing my face tiredly before turning to face Emmett, who hasn’t left yet.

“You can’t do that,” I start, keeping my voice even. “I respect your opinion, but you can’t question me like that in front of the others. I’m their leader, and I need them to respect that I’m making the right calls here.”

His grimaces a little. “I get that, Quinn. I do. I was just trying to get you to think about?—”

“I’ve already thought about it, before I agreed to the alliance with Carnage. And anyway, it’s too late to back out now. We’re in too deep, and we’re close to cracking this thing.”

Emmett frowns, looking skeptical. “Are you sure? You just seem… I don’t know. Upset.”

“I’m frustrated,” I snap. “And having my authority undermined in front of the rest of the gang isn’t helping.”

“I didn’t mean to undermine you.” He holds up his hands, his voice softening. “I’m just worried about you, Quinn.”

I let out a breath, some of the tension seeping from my shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I do anyway.

” He takes a step closer, ducking his head a little to catch my gaze.

“I know you better than probably anyone else in Enigma, and I can tell this shit is getting to you. I don’t think having Nico and his seconds around all the time is good for you. They’re a distraction.”

My stomach swoops a little at the mention of Nico, Atlas, and Killian. I still don’t know where things stand between all three of us, or what any of what’s happened recently means, but that’s definitely not something I’m going to confide in Emmett—especially given our history.

“I’m fine,” I tell him instead. “I’m focused.”

He gives me a look I can’t quite read. “Are you?”

“Yes.” I nod, straightening my shoulders. “I know what we have to do, and I won’t stop until it’s done. And until that happens, I really need you to back me up. Alright?”

He hesitates, half opening his mouth like he wants to say something else. Then he shuts it and nods. “Of course, boss.”

“Good. We’re gonna get through this, but we all have to be on the same page.”

He nods again. “I know. Do you need anything else before I head out for the night?”

“No.” I clear my throat, then add, “Thanks, Emmett.”

He gives me a little salute in response and then leaves, and I watch him go, my stomach twisting. I was already itching with frustration and a burning feeling of restlessness, and that conversation didn’t help at all.

After making sure everything is taken care of at the shop, I hop on my bike, which I rode over to Blood and Ink earlier, and head home.

The house is quiet when I get in, and I drop onto the couch in the living room, snagging a notepad and a pen. It’s in my head to write down some ideas that can help keep the gang afloat if this drags on for too much longer, but my heart isn’t in it.

Instead, I pull my sketchbook out of my bag and start doodling idly. It’s something I’ve always done, just randomly drawing things out when they’re in my head. Ideas for new tattoo designs, mostly. Anything to take my mind off what’s been stressing me out.

My brow furrows as I sketch out a floral branch, and I don’t look up when I hear someone walk into the room.

“What are you doing?” Atlas asks, leaning over the couch to peer at my sketchbook.

“Just drawing,” I tell him. “I needed something to do with my hands.”

“You just drew that?”

I glance up at him. “Yeah? Why?”

“Nothing, it’s just… that’s really good.” There’s a warmth to his voice as he watches me shade in a flower petal.

“You’ve seen me tattoo before,” I point out.

He shrugs one muscled shoulder, making the sleeve of his t-shirt shift over the ink on his arm. “Yeah, but it’s not always the same, is it? Don’t some tattoo artists just use other people’s art?”

“Mm, yeah, fair point. Some just look for free images or pay artists to use their work in their shops instead of designing their own shit. Nothing wrong with that, it’s just not how I like to do things.”

“Do you only tattoo your own designs?”

“Not only, but it’s my preference. If someone comes in with art they want, and it’s simple, I’ll do it.

But unless they’re really strict about it being an exact copy, I usually add some of my own flair to it.

I always feel like… I don’t know. If you’re coming to me for a tattoo, it’s because you like my work.

You like what I can bring to the piece. If you just want something generic, you could go to any tattoo artist and have them do that for you. ”

Atlas nods, considering that. “Makes sense. I could see how doing custom work would be more fun for you.”

“It is. It’s always the best when someone has an idea that’s just specific enough to give me somewhere to start, but not so specific that I feel constrained.”

He cocks his head, looking intrigued. “Do you have anything like that in your book?”

I flip to another page, showing him an elaborate drawing of a massive dragon clutching a sword.

“So this was for someone who literally just said she wanted a dragon that looked badass. And at first, I told her I needed more to go on, because there are a hundred different ways to make a dragon look badass, right? So we talked, and she ended up saying she really likes swords because her older brother got her into them. And that’s all I really needed. ”

“Wow. Where did she get this?”

“On her back,” I tell him. “The tail curled around her hip a little. It was a huge project, but a lot of fun.”

“I bet. This is impressive as hell.” He smirks. “You’ve really come a long way from your days of drawing fanfic of graphic novels.”

I close the book and whack him on the shoulder with it, laughing in spite of myself. “Shut the fuck up.”