Page 89 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

I stare down at Nico’s face for a long moment, taking in the harsh lines of his features and the set of his jaw.

With his eyes still closed, I feel like I can look at him in a way that I can’t when they’re open.

A little less guarded, maybe, less worried that he’ll see something in my own eyes that I don’t want him to notice.

He looks less cold and untouchable like this—more human , as he makes his peace with death.

I give myself one last second to gaze down at him, then let out a slow breath.

“I meant, alright, I’ll agree to your deal,” I say quietly. “We’ll work together.”

Nico’s eyes fly open, and for the first time since he came down into the basement, he looks relieved, his expression softening a little.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. On a couple of conditions. We do this with total honesty. You accept that I have no idea why I’m so important to The Saint. And…” I dig the barrel of the gun into his chin, looking him dead in the eyes. “Do not ever fuck with me or lie to me again. Are we clear?”

The hint of softness slides off Nico’s face so fast that I could almost convince myself I imagined it. He stiffens, glaring up at me.

“Likewise,” he bites out. “Now can you get the fuck off me?”

I scowl at him, staying right where I am as I eject the magazine from the gun, tossing it toward the side of the basement and the gun toward the other.

Nico winces at the way I handle his weapon, but if he wanted it to be treated nicely, he wouldn’t have left it out for anyone to grab, now would he?

I clamber awkwardly off him and stand, not even bothering to hold out my cuffed hands to help him up. He can manage it just fine on his own, I’m sure.

When I pointedly hold up the cuffs, he mutters something under his breath and grabs the key to unlock them. As I stoop down to grab my pants and Nico begins straightening himself out, the tension between us returns, as if we’re both remembering exactly what we just did.

I remind myself that the sex was just that—sex. A need for release and nothing more.

But even as I think that, I catch Nico’s gaze, trained on my thighs where his cum is still trailing slowly down. There’s a heat in his eyes that threatens to make my skin turn to fire.

“Never again,” I say, my tone clipped.

He grunts but says nothing.

The silence between us follows us even when we’ve put ourselves back together and start to leave the basement. Even that simple action comes with mistrust. The two of us stand at the bottom of the landing, awkward almost, waiting for the other to go first.

After all, no one wants to walk with their enemy behind them.

It just reiterates what I already know: that we might be ‘working together’ again, but we’re nowhere near together like we were before.

After a moment, Nico scoffs. Rolling his eyes, he takes the first step onto the stairs. I’m tempted to push him, but I keep control of my baser instincts and simply follow him, keeping my hands to myself.

It’s a stiff, silent trek all the way up those stairs and into the main part of the house. I hear Atlas’s and Killian’s voices from the kitchen and brace myself, squaring my shoulders.

Atlas must hear Nico’s footsteps, because he glances up as we enter.

“Took you long enough. Did she talk?—”

He stops cold when he sees me approach from behind Nico. Instantly, he and Killian are on edge. They straighten up, their backs stiff as their gazes cut between Nico and me and back again.

Before either of them can say anything, Nico speaks, ever the leader that he is.

“We’ve come to an agreement,” he says, sounding oddly formal as he announces it.

“We’re going to work together to figure out this business with The Saint.

Total transparency on both sides.” He glances my way, a grudging acknowledgement in his eyes.

“Quinn says that she doesn’t know what The Saint could want from her, and at this point, we have no choice but to believe her.

So we’re going to have to work with that if we want to figure out what the fuck is going on. ”

Atlas and Killian exchange a look but say nothing. We’re back to silence, it seems. Silence and unreadable expressions.

It’s like we’re starting back over as strangers—and I guess, in a way, we are.

Atlas regards me warily for a moment before flicking his eyes back to Nico.

“Are you sure about this?”

“No,” Nico answers, lifting one shoulder. “To be honest, this all could end up being another huge mistake.”

One of Atlas’s brows shifts upward. “ Another? ”

Nico nods. “I had us take a job from someone we’d never met and had no reason to trust, and I thought I could control the fallout. I was wrong. But we’re here now. So we’re going to figure shit out the best we can. Yeah?”

Nico holds Atlas’s gaze as he speaks, and there’s some undercurrent beneath his words, as if he’s trying to convince his two seconds to trust him—although I don’t know why.

Aren’t they always on the same page? Thinking with one mind at all times?

That’s how I got into this fucked up situation in the first place.

The odds were three against one from the jump, and I’ve always been outnumbered.

Atlas hesitates only for a second, then nods. “Yeah. We’re with you, Nico.”

Killian makes a noise of agreement, and Nico steps forward to grip Atlas’s hand. Then he jerks his chin toward the living room.

“Come on,” Nico says. “We have some information to share. We can start at the beginning.”

He heads toward the living room, and Killian and Atlas move immediately. I follow after him, with Killian and Atlas flanking Nico and me.

I huff a breath at the feeling of them moving behind me like shadows . Message heard loud and clear.

Truce or no truce, none of them trust me—and the feeling is entirely mutual.

Nico takes a chair, and Atlas stands off to the side. Killian sits, and of course that leaves two options to me—I can stand too, or I can sit on the couch beside him.

Stubbornness tells me to stand.

The jelly-like wobble in my legs, however, tells me I need to bite back my pride and sit the hell down.

Besides, this is still my house and my furniture, so if anyone should be sitting on it, it’s me.

As soon as I take my place on the opposite side of the couch from Killian, I could swear my whole body lets out a sigh of relief. Between being chained up, interrogated, and fucked beyond reason, this is the first crumb of true comfort I’ve had in days.

As I get comfortable, or at least try to, Killian shifts beside me. I glance to the side, and although his eyes aren’t on me, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath.

My stomach clenches.

Oh god. He can smell me .

He can smell the sex on my skin. I know it, even though it’s crazy to think so. But Killian has always had a knack for noticing things about me that other people don’t—not even myself.

I shift beside him, trying to ignore… well, him.

The awareness that I have of him, knowing that he’s silently cataloging everything about me.

From the messiness of my hair down to the fact that my clothes are just as disheveled as I am, my upper body still covered only by my bra.

I can practically hear his brain putting together the pieces, assembling the puzzle that paints the exact picture of what Nico and I just did.

A flush creeps up my cheeks, but I grit my teeth, keeping my chin lifted. It’s none of Killian’s goddamn business who I fuck anymore, and I was just doing what I had to, looking for an opening and taking advantage of the way Nico’s guard dropped after he fucked me.

Some tiny part of me knows that having sex with Nico wasn’t a tactical decision in that moment, but I refuse to acknowledge that part—just like I refuse to acknowledge the tense aura that feels almost like jealousy radiating from Killian.

Forcing all of those confusing thoughts out of my head, I turn to Nico.

“Alright. You wanted to share information, so share,” I say coldly. “I want to know what’s been going on—from the beginning. I can’t help you unless I know the full story.”

The room goes quiet for a moment after I speak, and my exhausted body braces for a fight as I wonder if Nico has changed his mind about the truce already.

If he goes back on his word, I really will kill him this time .

But then he looks at Killian and Atlas, nodding to each of them.

“The Saint reached out to us first through an intermediary,” Atlas starts. He doesn’t even look at me as he speaks. “That in itself was a bit unusual. Most of our dealings aren’t so…”

“Smoke and mirrors,” Killian finishes.

Atlas nods. “This intermediary never showed their face, but they informed us that an interested party was curious about whether or not we were available to do work for hire.”

“I initially told the middle man no,” Nico continues. “We’re not mercenaries, and even if we were, that’s work for enforcers, not the three of us.”

“But when your name was mentioned, someone got a little curious.” Atlas looks to Nico pointedly, and Nico shrugs, huffing a breath.

“It’s not every day that someone is as interested in your sworn rival as you are,” he says. “It seemed like a job that would benefit us as much as our employer.”

“Of course it did,” I say bitterly.

“The real challenge came in figuring out how to actually spy on you. It’s not like we were friends, and The Saint knew this.”

“He told us to ‘get creative,’” Killian puts in, twisting the last words.

“Turns out we didn’t need to get as creative as we’d originally thought we would.” Nico rests his elbows on his thighs, steepling his fingers. “When attacks started happening to both our gangs, it gave us the in we needed.”

Atlas grunts, leaning back against the wall. “Form an alliance, get close, start reporting to The Saint, and eventually crush the opposition—you.”

“We kept our people safer in the process too,” Nico adds.