Page 69 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

NICO

A couple of days later, I stop by the Carnage clubhouse. It’s empty when I get there, everyone else off doing their own thing. That means it’s quiet as I make my way through the familiar space, a sort of silent pride filling me as I do.

My friends and I built this gang from nothing, with just the three of us and the ambition and loyalty that we’ve always had. It means everything to me, having this.

Quinn gets it. I know from our conversations that she understands what it means to be a leader.

How you have to become someone that people can follow, even if that wasn’t who you were before.

There’s no choice if you want to have a gang that listens, that trusts you.

That will go to bat for you and understand that you’ll do the same for them.

I can tell from the way she handles her own gang that she puts as much of herself into the running of it as I do, and that’s one of the reasons why I trusted her for this alliance. Enough to humor it, at least.

Thinking about her makes a sudden image flash through my mind as I picture Quinn here. As a part of the club and a part of this life. Not in the marriage of convenience way she’s a part of it now, but something deeper. Something more real.

I could see it, honestly. Her handling business here, talking to the members of the gang. Some of them would be resistant, in the way they always are when shit changes, but Quinn would win them over with her diligence and patient way of leading.

We could handle business together and then leave, going back home to ? —

I shake myself before that fantasy can spin out of control. And it wasn’t even really a fantasy. More like idle thoughts strung together before I could get a hold on them.

There’s no point in playing pretend about things that probably won’t happen. Quinn is under my skin, there’s no denying that, but I have to be realistic about this shit.

At the same time, the handle I thought I had on everything clearly isn’t as secure as I thought it was. Finding out that Killian had been stalking her for longer than the alliance between us has even existed was enough to throw me for a loop.

It’s definitely not like him to go off and do something like that on his own. Usually, if Killian is doing some solo shit, it’s because he thinks it’ll be for the good of all of us. Or because he knows there’s a threat that needs to be eliminated.

But stalking Quinn and lying about it was pure selfishness. Purely because he fucking wanted to. And that’s definitely something new for Killian.

If it was anything else, I’d have been a hell of a lot more pissed that he went rogue, but in this case… I kinda get it.

Quinn has this way about her. This presence that draws you in. Even Killian isn’t immune to it. Hell, he fell into it long before Atlas and I did.

But we did fall into it, and everything that happened the other night is proof of that.

The three of us have never shared a woman before.

There have been times when we’ve fucked the same woman, but that happened on separate occasions, unrelated.

It’s never been like this before. Never until Quinn.

There was just no one that all three of us had a thing for before her.

Something about her seems to speak to each of us in a different way, which is something I never expected.

And fuck. Watching her with Atlas after their trip to Eros, and then with both Killian and Atlas the other night? Seeing how each of them was able to get her off, and how responsive she was to everything they did? She fucking loved being chased. Loved being fucked like that. Loved being shared .

My dick starts to swell in my pants just from thinking about it.

Even though this thing between us started out as a business arrangement, something purely for the benefit of my gang, I could feel things shifting as soon as I inked my ring on her.

After she snuck into my room on our wedding night, I knew I was playing with fire, indulging in something that could easily become addictive.

Letting myself start to feel things for her that I was never supposed to feel.

And now everything has shifted again.

I thought I’d be possessive when it came to anyone else touching my wife, but I should have known it would be different with the two men I trust most in the world. Especially since she seems to fit so well with both of them too.

We share everything else, so why not this?

It’s easy to follow that train of thought, to think about everything it could mean if this thing between the four of us continues. It would definitely throw all of my carefully crafted plans for a loop… but I’m not sure I care about that so much anymore.

I run both hands through my hair, refocusing on what I came here for.

No matter what’s between me and Quinn, or Quinn and all of us, we have more pressing shit to deal with at the moment. Namely, finding out how to track down Silas before he can cause anymore chaos with our gangs.

Thinking about the members of Carnage and Enigma who died the last time there was an attack is a pretty good dash of cold water, calming down my low-key arousal and getting me to focus.

I grab the list several of my crew members compiled for me and head back out to my bike.

After glancing over the list, I nod in satisfaction, then fold it up and tuck it into my back pocket.

I slide my helmet on and then climb onto my bike, turning it on and revving the engine.

When I peel away from the clubhouse, I head toward the first stop on the list: a pawn shop that’s known in the underground circles to be a front for weapons dealing.

The pawn shop is a short ride away, and it’s in a sketchy enough area that there aren’t many people around. I park down the block and remove my helmet, then tug on a ski mask before striding toward the shop’s entrance.

It’s dim and dusty when I step inside, and there’s nothing to immediately give away the true nature of the place. Luckily for me and my purposes, it’s empty right now, silent except for the rustling of the greasy-haired man behind the counter, who seems to be the owner.

I stride quickly toward him, and he looks up as I approach. He immediately does a double-take when he notices my mask, but before he can react, my hand snaps out to grab his head, forcing it down onto the counter.

He starts to yell out, but the sound cuts off as I draw my gun, pressing the barrel to his temple.

“Put your hands on the counter where I can see them,” I tell him in a conversational tone, exerting a little more force with the barrel of the gun.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, splaying his hands out on the counter.

They’re both empty, but the left hand is missing two fingers.

“There are easier ways to steal shit, if that’s what you’re trying to do,” he grumbles.

I snort. “I’m not after anything in here. But I do want some information.”

“Information about what?”

“First off, what’s your name?”

His eyes flick sideways to look up at me as he grimaces. “Smith.”

“Well, Smith, let me tell you what I want to know. There’s an ex-mercenary in town, goes by Silas Duran. We’re hoping he’s the type to want to stay well-supplied with weapons, so I figured someone in that business has to know who he is.”

It was Quinn’s idea, actually. After the night Killian fucked her in that graveyard, all four of us put our heads together about how to use the information she and Atlas got from Vincent.

She was the one to suggest interrogating weapons dealers around Detroit to try to turn up a lead now that we have a name and know that our attacker is an ex-merc.

Mercenaries are only as good as their skills and their weapons, and if he’s trying to come after two established gangs at once, he would probably have had to stop at one of the underground shops for arms at some point.

We’ve already questioned several of the arms suppliers that we know, with nothing to show for it, and we’re getting more than a little desperate to find some fucking clue that this guy is real so we can go after him.

That’s what the list I had my people compile is for—they dug up the names of some smaller arms dealers who flew under our radar.

“My memory works better when there’s not a gun to my head,” Smith mutters.

I lift an eyebrow and don’t move the gun an inch, letting my silence speak for me.

“Goddammit,” he finally mutters, the two remaining fingers on his left hand tapping against the table. “Fine. Yeah, I’ve heard the name. He’s been in here before.”

“Tell me what you know about him.”

He pulls his lips back in a grimace, revealing cigarette yellowed teeth. “Not that much. I don’t make a habit of prying into my customers’ business. That’s a good way to die, if you ask me.”

I dig the barrel of the gun into his temple. “Another good way to die is not telling me everything you can think of about him. I don’t care how small it is.”

Smith’s eyes bug out a little. He looks scared, but also annoyed, and I get the feeling I’m not the first person who’s threatened to kill him in his life. Maybe not even the first person this year. He works in a dangerous business, after all.

“Alright, alright. Hold on, lemme think…” He chews on his lower lip for a moment, squinting his eyes. “I remember what he bought, I’m pretty sure.”

“What was it?”

He rattles off several weapons, as well as ammo and tactical gear. It’s a long list, and the quality of the supplies supports what we already know about Silas—that he’s experienced, and that he’s not fucking around.

“What else?” I press when Smith stops to take a breath. “What did he look like? Any distinguishing features?”

“Eh…” He licks his lips, considering that. “I dunno. He was a decently tall guy, about your height. Blond hair that was cut real short, kinda buzzed, I guess. And dark eyes. Oh, and he had a scar on his right cheek. Ran from right under his eye to the corner of his mouth.”

Triumph flashes through me. Fucking finally . We’ve been searching for this fucker for what feels like ages now, and finally we have something to go on. Between the name, the description, and the knowledge that he’s frequented this place, we should be able to track him down.

I pull the gun away from Smith and let him up.

“Thanks,” I tell him, giving him a curt nod. “That was actually very helpful. Now if you keep your tongue from flapping, I won’t have to kill you. Don’t tell anyone I was here asking about Silas.”

Smith nods grudgingly. “I know how this shit works.”

“Good.” I pull out a wad of bills and push it across the counter to him. “For your trouble and your silence.”

I can tell from the look in his eyes that paying him off with a fat stack of cash is more than enough to make up for the rude questioning. He’s a business owner, and money talks more than anything else with his type.

I leave Smith rubbing his jaw and counting his money as I push my way out of the shop, heading back to my bike. Once I reach it, I call Atlas.

“Hey,” he says when he picks up.

“Hey. I got a lead.” I fill him in on what Smith told me, leaning against the side of my bike.

He makes a noise of satisfaction when I finish. “That’s good news. It’s about fucking time. If Silas has been to that shop before, chances are he’ll come back. Do you trust that this Smith guy will keep his mouth shut?”

I shrug a shoulder even though he can’t see it. “He didn’t see my face, so he doesn’t have much info to give. And if he decides to open his mouth anyway, then we’ll know who snitched. He knows what I’ll do to him if he talks.”

“Okay, so what’s our next move?”

“We need to keep a lookout stationed near the pawn shop at all times. If Silas comes back in, they can call and alert us. Then we either try to take him out, or we follow him to find out whether he’s working alone or as part of a new group.”

“Sounds solid to me,” Atlas agrees. “I’ll pass the word on.”

“Perfect. See you later.”

We hang up, and I slip my phone back in my pocket, determination rising inside me. Now that we have something to go on and a plan in place, there’s no way Silas can hide in the shadows for much longer.

We’re going to get this fucker soon.