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“Face away. It’s not your dog and pony show.” His eyes darken. Graham growls behind him, warning him. Sin cocks an eyebrow. He’s reluctant to explain himself, but has to.
“No one left you out of the fun. This is a personal matter for me,” Sinclair says good-naturedly. “Right, G?”
G? What the feck?
But Graham just nods. “Yeah. By the way, Quinn is looking for you,” my boss says from behind his desk, pouring himself a glass of something strong, way stronger than he normally drinks when he works. What on earth is going on here tonight?
“She said she needs to talk to you urgently.”
I drag my eyes over both men before I grunt in response. I leave, climbing down the stairs to the bar area to look for her. I’d be lying if I said my heartbeat is regular. It’s not even fast. It is completely erratic.
I scan the club, seeking her, knowing she’s around, sensing her presence, like an animal stalking its prey.
I walk to the bar and run my hand along it, but quickly snatch it back when my palm meets a sticky liquid. Disgusting.
I stop at the glassed bar with the blue lights pouring from under it—there’s an aquarium full of exotic fish underneath—when it meets a small palm with shiny, black nails. I look up and see her. My heart stops. Her smile widens.
No one affects me. Feck her for being the exception.
“Graham said you were looking for me,” I say. I sound short—even to my own ears—but I don’t mean to. I don’t express myself well. Most of the time, I don’t care to. But, sometimes, I wish I could communicate better. For her. With her. Quinn’s eyes are so blue they’re almost silver, her ruby red hair a wild, yet sexy mess. It’s scientifically proven that humans are drawn to all things symmetric and colorful. And Quinn? Quinn is both.
She grabs my hand in hers, and I’m a bit taken aback. A rush of heat travels from my head to my groin, making a brief stop at my heart. It doesn’t go unnoticed, and so I pull my hand away even though I want to study every little line on her palm until it grows old.
“What is it?” I snap. I want to protect her, and I’m willing to go places I’ve never gone before, hell included. But protecting her is also keeping her away from me. I’m not selfish enough to have her.
I’m a murderer.
A fucked-up arsehole.
I don’t deserve her.
“Can we talk somewhere private? It’s my day off cleaning duties.” She smiles shyly, and it’s such a contrast from the bold, sassy mask she puts on for the rest of the world. I can’t deny her, especially when she shows me her true self. I nod.
“Aye.”
I follow her, zeroing in on her back, on those beautiful red-hot locks and the way her arse sways from side to side, intentionally so, as she leads me to the alleyway where painful secrets bonded us. Secrets that neither of us has ever uttered aloud. I love the way her little black mini skirt barely hugs her waist and that short top Graham makes the employees wear. The females only, of course. But then again, Graham is a business genius. He doesn’t hire men to work behind the bar. Just to clean up the mess other men create.
Quinn pushes the door to the back exit open, and we both walk outside. It’s cold. Winter is fast approaching. New York is dusted with a thin coat of snow, but it doesn’t settle, because it’s so alive with people and vehicles and whatnot. Life is more powerful than any force of nature. That’s what I’ve learned in this place.
She turns around with big, hopeful eyes, and I look away because another hello means another goodbye. And I can’t afford giving her any more pieces of my soul.
“What is it?” I grind out. Her smile falls, destroyed by my harshness, and there’s an open wound somewhere in my heart that just grew an inch. I’m such a bastard.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind. I thought…I mean, I asked Graham if you could maybe see me home? It’s a cold night outside, and I don’t want to walk by myself.”
There’s a pause before she adds, “Graham said he doesn’t mind, obviously. But I can just walk back by myself. I should have asked you first. It’s just that we live in the same neighborhood and…”
“I’ll call you a cab,” I cut into her stream of words. I can’t. I won’t. She deserves better. She thinks she wants me because I was in the right place at the right time. She thinks I’m her knight in shining armor, but I’m just a monster in a suit. She deserves to be loved wholly, fully, entirely…
But not with me.
With someone else. Someone good.
“Please?” Her eyes are pleading, and she is pushing her body toward mine. Her tits, barely covered in that black cropped shirt—feck you very much, Graham—press against my lower chest. I want to show her all the things I learned when Cole and Jade decided to make it their mission to help me—after learning that I didn’t have the confidence to pursue Quinn—and maybe even find some new things that will be just ours. Cole, Jade, and I haven’t spoken of that night since. I don’t regret it, but I won’t deny that it’s slightly awkward having tag-teamed my best friend’s girl, who is now his wife.
“Why?” I whisper into her face. “You know what I do for Graham. What I did for you. I’m a monster.”
Her eyes slide to my chest, and she places both her palms over it. “You don’t scare me. I’m more afraid of the monsters hiding in plain sight.”
