Page 72 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

“No sign of him yet, boss,” Cabby says, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging. “We’ve had eyes on the pawn shop this whole time, but no one matching the description you gave us has come in or out.”

It’s not good news, but it’s not surprising either. It’s only been a week or so since I put people on duty keeping an eye on Smith’s pawn shop for any signs of Silas.

It would have been too good to be true for him to have shown his face already, but I can admit to myself that I did hold out hope.

“Okay. Thanks, Cab,” I say, nodding to him. “Keep me posted, and switch up the rotations a bit if you think we need to. I don’t want it to get suspicious.”

He nods back, giving me an easy grin and a messy salute. “Will do.”

“What other business do we have?” I ask the rest of the small group gathered around me. I called several Enigma members in for a meeting at Blood and Ink to debrief on some things, and I try to give them my full attention as they give me their reports.

It’s all business as usual. Or rather, business as “the new usual,” now that things have been so diminished in light of the threats against us.

There’s less of an air of outright frustration than there was at our last meeting, but I’m not relaxing just yet.

Finding out more info about Silas was good, but it won’t be good enough until he’s dead.

“I think we need to make a move on this while we can,” one of the crew is saying about some smuggling operation that we’ve had on the back burner for a while now. “I know we need to be careful, but we also can’t let this opportunity pass us by.”

They all look to me, and I turn it over in my head. I know what my dad would do, ambitious as he was, and it’s the same thing I think would be best.

“Okay. We’ll jump on it, but if it seems like it’ll be too hard to pull off right away, we need to take our time. Play it smart. Don’t make it known that we’re being cautious for a reason, but no one can blame us for protecting our interests.”

Thankfully, everyone’s nodding along with that, not arguing with my approach. By the time we wrap things up and head upstairs, there’s an air of optimism among the group, which is a relief.

Most of the people I called in file out, except for the ones who are on duty at the shop.

A UPS truck pulls up outside, and a couple of Enigma members who are smoking on the sidewalk eye the driver warily as he gets out.

He looks a little nervous himself as he approaches and talks to them for a second before handing over a package and hopping back into his truck.

“Package for you, boss!” one of them calls, poking his head in the door.

“Thanks.” I step forward and take it from him with a grin. I know exactly what this is, but I didn’t know it was coming today.

“Something for the shop?” Emmett asks, coming over when I prop the box up on a table to open it.

“No, something personal.”

He stands there while I open it, and I don’t make an effort to hide what I got from him.

It’s for the Princes.

It’s something I thought about the other night when they all put those skull masks on, and the way Atlas has been appreciating my drawings lately gave me the idea for it.

Our gangs have a union now, and I had the idea that I wanted to give them something to put on their helmets to represent me. Us. What we’ve been building together.

So I sketched out a skull, like the masks they wear and the decals on their helmets, but with a snake wrapped around the skull, the tail coming out of the mouth. The snake has vines wrapped around it, and a teal colored lily to one side.

It was easy to design the art and have it printed, and now I have the decals, ready to give to the guys.

“The skull is for Carnage, isn’t it?” Emmett asks. His eyes shutter as he glances at the decals and then away. “You drew something for them. I recognize your art.”

“Yeah, I did,” I say, keeping my voice light. I’m well aware that he’s never been a fan of this alliance, but I’m not looking to argue with him about it. Not right now.

He presses his lips together but doesn’t say anything else about it.

Even his displeasure can’t dim my excitement about giving this to the three men.

I think they’re going to like it. Maybe it’s stupid, but I had the idea of calling it a belated “wedding gift” or something like that.

Nico and I have the ring tattoos, but this is something that would tie all four of us together in a way.

“Can you hold down the fort here?” I ask Emmett. “There shouldn’t be anything to do, really.”

“Yeah. Of course,” he says shortly.

Ordinarily, I’d stick around for longer, maybe take some walk-ins for tattoos, but right now, I want to go see the Princes.

I know the three of them are at the clubhouse right now, handling their own business, so I ride my bike over there. I pull up outside, parking a little ways away because I want to surprise them. They’re not expecting me at all.

Just like when I was here with Atlas before, it doesn’t seem like there’s anyone else around. I catch sight of Nico, Atlas, and Killian’s bikes parked out front as I slip inside quietly.

The front room is empty, but I can hear voices coming from down the hall. I move in that direction on silent feet, only half listening to the murmur of their voices.

But as I get closer, I can make out the words they’re saying.

There’s something about the tone of their voices that gives me pause, and I stop in my tracks. They sound serious, like something is wrong—and then I hear one of them say my name.

“The Saint is going to be expecting another update,” Nico says, and I creep a bit closer, straining to hear more. “We’re supposed to be finding out Quinn’s secrets, using this opportunity to spy on her, and he’s gonna be pissed if he doesn’t get what he wants soon.”

My blood runs cold, my stomach dropping like a rock.

What the fuck?

“He’s an impatient motherfucker,” Killian grumbles.

“Yeah, he fucking is.” Atlas’s voice is muffled, but he sounds annoyed. “And we still don’t know why the hell he wants to know so much about Quinn’s life.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nico says, his voice going hard. “What matters is that we need to?—”

I don’t stay to hear the rest. Blood rushes in my ears as I spin on my heel quickly and dart quietly back to the front of the clubhouse. I push my way outside and stride back to my bike, a knot twisting in my stomach.

My heart thuds like a drumbeat as I replay what I just heard over and over again in my head.

They’re spies. They’re fucking spies .

The three of them have been gathering information about me this whole goddamn time. They wormed their way into my life, into my house, just so they could gather information on me. For someone I’ve never heard of, and clearly for a price.

Atlas told me once that their gang occasionally does ‘freelance’ work of a questionable nature as long as the payout is high enough. Is that what this is? Just another job to them?

Everything I thought about how maybe we could set aside our old enmities and rivalries and become true partners, how we could make this a lasting alliance—all of that was built on a fucking lie.

And I fell for it. Hook, line, and goddamn sinker.

That’s why Nico wanted to marry me. That’s why he insisted on living with me. It wasn’t enough for us to just be partners in name. He had to be close enough so that they could go through my shit and report back to whoever the fuck The Saint is.

This whole time, all the closeness between us has been because they were spying on me.

I was starting to fall for them, and they were just playing me.

That realization hits me harder than I expected, and I almost double over, clutching at my chest. There’s something gnawing deep inside it, a burning pain that blocks out everything else.

I feel broken and crushed, and so, so stupid. I let myself believe that this could be something good, that it could turn into something more. I trusted them, against my own instincts. And for what?

I clutch the handlebars of the bike, taking deep, shuddering breaths. I can feel tears prickling at my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I don’t want to cry for them, not now. I fucking won’t .

It takes a moment, but eventually, I manage to steel myself. I straighten up, squaring my shoulders and letting out a long breath.

Fine. If this is how it is, then fine .

I’m not going to let them win. I’m not going to let them hurt me. I’ll pretend I don’t know what they’re doing, play along with their little game…

And then I’ll find a way to ruin them.