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"I'm fine. For the love of God, I'm fine. Stop exaggerating." Jesus.
I grit my teeth when the medic begins. It hurts like a bitch, but I know I’m fine. Nothing a few bandages and some painkillers won’t cure.
“I would’ve gone with you, and…” Sergio says huskily. “Any of us would have.” Of course they would have. But it wouldn’t have been the vengeance I needed if I’d had help.
I get a little obsessed with things. Sometimes I just can't leave well enough alone.
It takes them an hour, but by the time I have medication, my wounds treated, and I'm sitting up in the bed having a cold drink of water and food Quinn manages to scavenge from the party earlier, I'm feeling a hell of a lot better.
Sergio gives me a serious look. "Tell me later?"
"Of course."
I wouldn't think of doing anything else.
When the door shuts, Quinn collapses next to me.
The anger on her face has gone; in its place is resignation. I realize now that she wasn't angry with me, it’s the mask she snaps on when she’s afraid.
I don't like that Quinn was afraid. I reach for her. "Come here," I murmur. She looks as if she doesn't want to touch me, as if I’m going to break.
"Quinn."
Her face crumples, and she begins to cry."Tell me,” she says in a watery voice.
"I'll tell you. But you're not gonna like it."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" she responds quietly, resting a tentative hand on my chest.
"I told you that I protect what’s mine. Earlier, Sergio had the names and locations of the people that bullied you when you were a kid." Quinn's jaw drops.
"Adriano…No."
"Yes. You made it sound so simple when you told me. This wasn't a couple of guys shaking you up for your milk money, Quinn. It made thefucking news."
I look away. I don't want to lose my temper with her. This is a touchy subject and I won’t play that game where I blame the fucking victim. "Now you know why I didn't want to say anything to you."
She draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
"I'm not talking about the kids that made fun of your clothes in kindergarten. God, no. But it is not okay to sexually assault someone. No matter who they are. And you were inhigh schoolfor Christ’s sake."
She lifts her chin and looks me in the eye. "For a guy that likes to keep his privacy, you certainly don't respect anyone else's."
"There is no privacy between us," I say, my voice tight and angry. "I have a fucking tracker on your phone and the only reason why you're not fucking Air Tagged is because my boss won’t let me. You're in a high security location with a team of bodyguards on you at all times." I sit up even straighter. "And I’ll be damned if I'm gonna let some assholes who assaulted you when you were just a young adult live without regret."
Her face pales. "You killed them?”
"All of them, and I don't fucking regret it."
She looks younger without her guard up. So vulnerable it makes my heart hurt. She sits next to me and holds my hand.
"You're a billionaire now," I say softly. "People have a mysterious way of resurfacing from your past when it becomes known that you're rich. I would know. And I don't want that happening to you."
"So youkilledthem?” she repeats, as if repeating it will make it not true.
"I did and I don’t regret it."
"And they beat you up before you killed them?"
