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I’VE NEVER WISHED MORE THAT I COULD PUKE ON SOMEONE
QUINN
I wake minutes or maybe hours later, confused.
At first, I think I’m in the dim light of my dorm room, but the last several days come flooding back to me and the hot, sticky liquid running down my arm and dripping off the ends of my fingertips tells me that wherever I am, the scenario is not a good one.
I can hear Kronk barking, losing his fucking mind somewhere in the distance. I must still be at Jack’s. A wave of relief washes over me knowing that he is safe.
Or at least seems to be.
“You should be glad I took it out while you were still unconscious.” The blurry form of Stu comes into view. He’s standing directly in front of me, and I can barely make out his features. Apparently whatever he drugged me with was some strong shit. “I think I would’ve liked watching you squirm under my knife.”
My mouth is dry and my tongue feels heavy. Use of my limbs is out of the question. I can barely hold my head up.
I genuinely have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about, and even if I were completely cognizant I am fairly certain I still wouldn’t.
My brain wants to be shocked that it’s Stu who’s doing this to me, wants to be overwhelmed by what is happening, but the drugs in my system aren’t allowing room for things like reactions or feelings.
“This was really no trouble at all.” He’s rolling something around between his fingers, holding it up in front of his face like he’s squinting at it. “I just don’t know what to do with you in the aftermath since I planned for you to be dead for this.”
I shift my head against the stone wall, grunting. It’s cold wherever we are.
“I could just kill you but I’m not used to getting my hands dirty.” He shoves whatever he was looking at in his pocket. “This is a first for me, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
He’s pacing now.
I need to buy time. Someone has to come. Maybe Jack will realize something's wrong when I don’t answer the phone? I just need to keep Stu talking, and gather information—anything that might give me a chance.
“What... what is that?” My words are almost too quiet, but they seem to reach him. “What did you take from me?”
His smirk widens as he crouches down. “A chip. Your dad had it implanted in you. Didn’t know that, did you?” He leans in closer, eyes gleaming with sick satisfaction. "He used it to store information on The Assembly over the years, all the little secrets tucked inside your arm. But don’t worry, you’re free of that now. Too bad it doesn’t free you from me." The smile on his face is tilted and feral. “I usually have someone else do the dirty work for me. Like when I paid those little shits to stomp your dad’s head in. Or when I paid Jack’s sister to keep him busy for the day, making sure she won’t be answering any of his calls once he realizes she’s not actually in the hospital. It’s crazy what people will do for a little cash, especially when they’re hard up for drugs. But here I am, and I can’t say I’m not enjoying myself.”
Whatever this villain monologue is, I can’t take much more of it. I feel like I’m about to pass out again. But those feelings I said I couldn’t feel before? I feel them now; so fucking sad for Jack and Sienna.
I hope his sister is at least safe, regardless of how shit a person she is.
My head lolls to the side, my brain finished now that it’s thought some thoughts.
Stu crouches in front of me, pricking under my chin with the tip of a fucking 8-inch hunting knife as he tilts my head back upright. The adrenaline rush from him breaking my skin again makes me a little more lucid.
“I know you hated your dad. I hated him too, so we have that in common.” His hot breath fans across my face. I’ve never wished more that I could puke on someone. I’m sure if I try hard enough I can bring that fucking soup back up. “At least, after he tried to step down. Because of course that fucking left me with this job. Getting rid of him and getting rid of all the information he had that he could hold over The Assembly that would allow him to walk away from our little boys’ club unscathed.”
I finally find it within myself to form more words. "I don't have any information." They come out slurred, barely audible, and even though I’m speaking, it feels like someone else’s voice.
Stu scoffs, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, not anymore. I just cut the chip out of your arm." He gestures toward my arm, and I glance down, seeing the blood still seeping from the wound. I don’t understand how any of this is even possible until I realize the spot he’s cut it from is one that already had a scar there.
Suddenly, it all clicks into place. The surgery I had as a child, the sharp pains at the site of the scar, the meetings with my dad, and the way he always gripped me by the arm or shoulder. He wasn’t just controlling me emotionally—he was using me to store his secrets, hiding them inside me.
Stu continues, leaning in closer, his voice dripping with condescension. “Your dad thought he could keep secrets from us, that we wouldn’t know what he was up to behind closed doors. Guess he didn’t realize how closely we were watching. Pretty fucking stupid of him to presume that.”
He digs the knife further into my chin and I wince, but I suspect the drugs dull the pain because he seems frustrated that I’m not screaming.
Blood drips down the knife and along his hand and forearms.
I attempt to move my legs, testing if any strength has returned. My toes twitch, and I feel a spark of hope. If I can just distract him enough, maybe I can kick the stack of boxes piled next to me over, and make enough noise to make him falter. I’m grasping at straws, but I feel helpless and hopeless.
“The people we had watching him just moved to you once he was out of the picture.”
At least now I know I wasn’t actually losing my fucking mind in the weeks leading up to moving in with Jack and Sienna, but I guess my moving in here played right into his plans.
I am thankful that this psychopath opted to get me alone rather than drag the two of them into this mess. I am so glad they’re safe and Jack is far, far away.
Though I am not sure I would mind a little help right now.
I was stupid for not realizing he'd drag me into his shady life even though I fought against it every step of the way. I should have known he'd find a way to use me regardless.
I jerk my head back and I feel the tip of the knife release from my skin.
Blood gushes and Stu’s entire body shudders.
It’s in this moment I realize that he is enjoying this game a little too much, and I am well and truly fucked because I can barely control the muscles in my neck let alone any other part of my body.
“I could do all the things I really want to with you, and hide your body in a place no one will ever find it.” He brushes my hair from my face reverently and bile rises in my throat. “Or maybe I’ll just leave you here and find a way to frame Jacky Boy for all the depraved shit I’m about to do to you. This is his basement, after all.” The smile on his face tells me exactly how he feels about this depravity .
The door at the top of the stairs creaks and he jerks upright but doesn’t make it a full step away from me before a shot rings out.
The bullet hits him square in the back and he crumples to the floor in front of me, completely limp as blood pours from the gunshot wound and pools around his lifeless body.
Footsteps pound down the stairs and Ezra comes into view for a split second before I lose consciousness again.