Page 93 of The Boss

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Quinn whispers. I frown so he quickly adds, “No, fuck, no I’m not sorry. I just should’ve waited. Your first time shouldn’t be up against a door covered in filth. Damn it.”

“It was amazing,” I pant, shaking my head. He kisses my forehead and pulls up my pants, then his. I chuckle, “But now we’re going to bereallyfilthy. There’s not even a damn water bottle in there.”

Quinn doesn’t respond. He leads me in. I can tell in the way he moves that his left side is aching. He puts both hands on the worktable and hangs his head, exhausted.

“Shit, and you’re hurt.” I put a hand on his back, “Quinn? Can we go back to the house?”

“The house is gone,” he says.

“Gone?” I gasp.

“All but. Bombed, burned, riddled with bullet holes.”

I put a hand on his arm, “Mac? Collin? Sheila?”

“Wounded but alive. We lost Seamus, though, so even though most of the men got out, they’re holed up in safe houses with fucking bandaids. And,” he pauses, pain flashing in his irises, his voice trembles, “We lost Shae.”

He curses. I do too.

In just a few weeks she became the closest thing to a maternal figure I’ve ever had. And I know Quinn loved her deeply.

“Was it the Russians?”

“Hired guns in masks. A fuckton of them.”

“Well, you’re hurt, we can’t stay here,” I start, still confused. Quinn straightens, somehow seeming taller than ever, and looks at me in a way I can’t decipher. He whistles for Tink and she bounds in. Marlon follows. Quinn scoops up my dog, hands him to me and turns and pulls on the work table.

“What are you—”

The whole thing comes up on hinges. The flooring underneath the table comes up with it. And there’s a hole in the ground? No, not a hole. A staircase. Quinn studies me for a beat, concerned, then moves. He doesn’t say a word, just starts down the concrete staircase.

Marlon squeaks and a shiver runs through me.

This is it.

This is it!

Quinn has a secret bunker and he’s about to show it to me.

I walk down the cold, dark, staircase for a few steps and then lights come on.

Lights! On motion sensors. So there is power here.

We go forever and ever. Three stories down, from what I counted. Finally, he stops. Another light comes on above us. We’re on the landing, the bottom of the steps but in front of a metal door. It opens.

An elevator?

Again, Quinn says nothing. He just watches me watch all his secrets unravel like a dug up scroll. I’m sure he’s wondering if I feel triumphant. I…I don’t know what to feel. The elevator only has one button. Quinn presses it.

“How deep are we going, exactly?” I say, my mouth dry.

“Deep enough that even a satellite can’t see the power usage.”

Oh.

My ears pop. The temperature shifts. So. Pretty damn deep.

Finally the box stops plummeting to the freaking center of the earth and Quinn sighs, like he’s bracing himself. Marlon and Tink both whine at the pressure change. It’s not painful or unpleasant, just noticeable.