Page 8

Quinn

I turn on my side, cringing against a pool of sweat at my back.

I’m in my bed, mostly asleep, in that half-dreaming state after suffering my fifth nightmare of my dad being taken.

As I clutch my pillow tightly and spin it to the dry side, I notice a cool breeze waft over me. My window shouldn’t be open—

I blink several times to a silhouette standing over me.

“ Ah— ” A gloved hand claps tightly over my mouth.

Through hazy vision, I go to punch, but my wrist is already restrained.

Not again.

Not—

My vision clears to Silver’s perfectly defined face and fear-inducing eyes staring back at me. Once he sees the recognition in my face, his grip loosens.

“ What in the actual fuck? ” I whisper, still out of breath, shoving the back of my head against the pillow to ground me.

He leans back casually on my dresser and shuts the window.

“ How did you— ”

“The roof.” He smirks. “If your guardians gave half a shit, they wouldn’t let a rookie sleep in his car while the ‘ cartel’ is at large.”

“ Why? ” I say, still whispering, hand to my heart.

“I’ve been asking myself that for days now.” He peers out the window, his perfect jaw and silver hair shining in the moonlight. He looks even hotter like this—in all black with gloves. Like a Dexter kill suit. Ugh, my rattled brain goes to the worst places when I’m exhausted.

“They refused to listen to you, didn’t they?” he says, drawing me back to reality.

My brow furrows. How the hell would he know that?

“You see, the bratva seemed quite unbothered about interference. One might even say, they were lackadaisical about one of the highest profile captures in modern day crime.”

“Aros.” I sit up in my bed, embarrassed that I probably stink of sweat from my nightmares.

He locks his gaze with mine again, and it feels like we’re the only two people who exist in the world. The confidence to literally be sitting in my room when Jersey PD is right outside…

“Can I trust you, Quinn?”

I sniff, not sure what he expects of me.

“It’s in your best interest to say yes,” he speaks casually.

Does he have sympathy for me? I caught that glimmer in his eye more than once in his house. He’s not just a grumpy nobody like he claims.

“You’re important, aren’t you?” I swallow hard. “Not a businessman like I pegged you for with those expensive ass loafers in the snow.” I look him up and down, seeing a mafia hitman sitting before me.

“You only know the sides that I show you,” he says cryptically, and for some reason, I’m all the more intrigued.

Does that mean he meant for me to see him walking with his groceries at six in the morning the day of my father’s kidnapping? Did he mean for me to follow him?

Does he… pity me?

He sighs. “You aren’t safe here, Quinn.”

“And why’s that?” My heart flutters. “Because for some reason… I feel safe.”

His eyes narrow for a second. “Should I take that as a signal of trust?”

“Maybe.” I shrug coyly, then notice a speck of dried blood shining off his jacket from the moonlight.

His eyes follow mine. “Don’t worry. I didn’t harm anyone tonight.”

“You’re a sloppy mobster,” I dare to say. “If that blood falls, I can have it tested.”

He smirks. “As I said, you only know the sides I show you.”

“You meant to leave blood on your jacket? Oh- kay . Serial killer vibes.” I pretend to shiver.

“Fearless youth. Not sure if out of pure stupidity, or—”

I whack his leg with a pillow.

“So whose blood is it then, if it’s supposed to be there? Huh?” No idea why I’m giddy, but I am. Probably because I’ve been thinking about this stud to counteract all of my miserable thoughts for the past few days.

Silver stands. “Your father is safe, kid.”

All of the air sucks out of the room. My first thoughts are of unexplainable relief. Second thoughts are… “ Bullshit .” I get to my knees in bed and throw the covers completely off of me.

“This is his blood.” He shrugs one shoulder. “He was beaten pretty hard by the Russians, but he’ll be fine. I broke him from his confines, and helped him limp for miles in the woods.”

“Fuck off.” My fingertips quiver over my mouth, voice gone.

Tears well to my eyes, but I won’t let them break. This mystery man is screwing with me.

No… he has no reason to.

“That’s not the ‘thank you’ I expected.” He scoffs and turns again to the window.

“You’re serious?” I get to my feet and grab his arm, then shake it. “ You’re serious, Aros? ” The tears break—I can’t help it.

He turns to me, eyes piercing into my soul. “I’m serious.”

The way his stone-cold eyes have not an ounce of lying in them makes my entire body weak like paper. My legs nearly buckle, but I catch myself. All of the emotions… all of them flow through me in an instant in time.

My hand claws for his. His touch is warm and secure, and I don’t know why I reached for it, but I did. I don’t know why I’m trembling, but I am.

Dad’s safe, is all I can think.

He hesitantly looks down at my hand shivering in his, and twitches to pull away. But I grab on tighter. I need this moment. Please .

As if he reads my thoughts, he softens and pulls me in for a hug.

The acceptance is like I’ve been resuscitated back to life. His warm embrace, disapproving grunt, it all makes me realize that he’s a good grump.

Dad is safe, I repeat in my head.

I’m safe.

He’s the reason for all of it.

My tears roll onto his shirt to thank him. And when I press my body closer to his, a strong hand flattens across my back to lock it in place. He doesn’t complain about my breath or my sweat. He just stays there.

It’s a nice moment. My stomach is doing somersaults at the idea of this ghost of a man being Dad’s rescuer.

Then reality strikes like lightning.

My senses return. The cop’s daughter in me sends alarms running rampant inside my head.

There’s a fucking burglar in my house. I haven’t seen any proof. He could be a goddamn conman.

Fuck! Uncle F might be right about the cartel. Why the hell am I putting all my trust into a man who saw half of a Russian mafia star on the side of my damn house? I back away, gasping at the insanity of the situation.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“You’re lying to me,” I decide.

He smirks, not even flinching from my accusation.

“I was worried for a moment you were the most gullible woman in the world.”

He called me a woman instead of kid. That’s new.

“In time, you’ll know the truth,” he continues.

“What the hell do you mean, in time ? Where’s my dad?” I step forward and grip his wrists as hard as I can.

“I can’t just let him free. You’re too unstable. I masked my voice so he thinks a Russian freed him. He was gagged and blindfolded. Now… if a certain impulsive daughter spills that it was an Italian who interfered with bratva dealings, I’ll have a war on my hands.”

He effortlessly flips out of my hold and grabs both my wrists with one hand, then slowly raises my arms high over my head.

God, I’m like a twig in his grasp.

He sticks to his story so well, which gives me hope Dad really is safe. But I still don’t have proof…

He leans his face inches from mine. “I wouldn’t want to kill you.”

We both know it’s an empty threat, but he’s still terrifying.

I don’t even know what to do with myself. A part of me is kind of turned on, but the other wants to scream at the top of my lungs for help.

Find the middle ground, Quinn.

He scans my lips, and I, his.

The tension is fever-inducing. Literally, I’m sweating again.

“What happens now?” I ask, leaving my mouth slightly parted.

“We wait,” he growls, then releases his grip and pokes one finger into my chest so I fall seated on the bed.

I’m taken aback. “Wait for what?”

“Where the chips fall, in my world and in yours.”

I sigh, shutting my eyes and focusing on cooling the heat swirling around my thighs. “You want to see if I’ll sing.”

“Of course. I also have to find out where the Russians will turn next. Who will they blame.” He turns his back on me.

“I want my father back, Aros.”

“And you will get him, if I decide to trust you.”

“And if not?” I grit my teeth.

“He’ll be treated far better than he would’ve in the bratva’s hands, that I can assure you.”

My lips tremble. “What were they going to do?”

“The normal revenge treatment. One finger clipped at a time, then mailed to the station, I’d assume.

Then, when he was finally numb from that pain, they’d take his eyes in exchange for years of the bratva brother’s life as he rots behind bars.

They would apply the same treatment with your father that they do to rats.

“Bold and baffling to make a move like they did though, because he’s a cop.” He shakes his head. “Almost doesn’t make any sense.”

The images he paints of my dad being tortured is brutally painful. So much for heat. This man has the power to wet me like a river and dry me up like a desert.

“That’s over now, though… right?”

“It is. But if I can’t trust you, you’ll never see him or me again,” he says deadpan.

“Then you’ll have to trust me.” I get up and push him.

“You’re a cop’s daughter, and I’m part of a deep-rooted family. These things don’t mesh on a whim, kid.”

“Oh really?” Heat flares up to my face. “Because it seems like you just changed my whole world on a whim .”

His frown deepens as he grabs my shirt. “You’re a problem for me, Quinn... Time must pass. The chips must settle. Just know your father is safe.”

He opens the window, and I grab his arm again.

“You’re not leaving,” I say sternly.

He stops what he’s doing, one hand on the window as he peers over his shoulder. There’s hesitation in him. A slight glimmer in his eye that fades with the wind. I’m begging him without saying a word.

Don’t leave me.

Give him back.

He turns fully around one last time, his hands moving gently to my shoulders.

“Sit tight, kid. Don’t get in over your head.” He leans in near my lips, waiting there, before turning to kiss my cheek.

“When will I see you again?” I surrender my earlier demand.

“Soon.”

We both look out the window to see the tail of the police car stationed in front of my house. Once he decides the coast is clear, he climbs down a cast iron pipe to the ground.

I shake my head when realizing he’s not heading toward his house across the way.

“This Italian mafia, Batman son of a bitch,” I speak to the cool wind, then shut the window and fold my arms. “Well shit.”