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Once she has finished, I clear the tray and carry it to the kitchen. I’ll get the cleaning done later. I don’t want anything breakable nearby when I give her the news about where she is going for the next few days. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s thrown a dish at me. Learning from my past mistakes keeps me on my toes, and this girl is a force to be reckoned with when she’s angry.
I take my seat beside her, then pull her into my arms so she is resting against my chest. “Angel,” I say, clearing my throat. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“What is it, puddin pop?” She asks, trying to play it off cool, but I feel her body tense in anticipation of what I might say next.
“There’s something that I need to take care of. I have to go away for a few days.” I sigh, outlining the scenario.
“I understand. I will be safe here. You don’t have to worry.” She replies calmly, but I know better. It’s the calm before the storm. The worst has yet to come because I haven’t told her the bad news.
“Angel, you can’t stay here. Neither of us can. You need to get away for a few days, too.” I hesitate and she interrupts me.
“Aww, Christian. I never thought you would take me with you on important business. This is such a big step for us.” She gloats, happily.
This is about to go from bad to worse. Fuck. I take a deep breath, then rattle off a response. “You aren’t coming with me. You’re going somewhere safe to stay with a friend.”
Nothing happens for a few moments, and then she fully detonates; the look in her eyes is murderous.
Chapter 12
Quinn Bomb
Quinn-
No,no,no!Ithink to myself. He can’t be serious. I’ve more than proven myself. I escaped from Le Manchot before anyone came to rescue me. Christian is ridiculous. I don’t need watching after. I can’t even count anymore how many times we’ve gone over this. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. It seems like things will never change. To him, I will always be his little meager mouse. No matter how many times I prove myself, he will never stop acting as my protector. Maybe I don’t want to be protected. I wonder if the thought has even crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, I crave the chaos. That I thrive on getting revenge, sweet, sweet, delicious revenge.
I throw my head back with an angry screech and push myself off of Christian’s chest. ‘I do not need to be sent away! I do not need to be kept safe!“ My foot stomps down as I fold my arms across my chest in a hostile power stance.
Christian’s feet hit the ground as he sits up. His fingers run through his hair with a nervous unease. I hope he’s terrified. I hope his heart trembles as he tries to decide his next move. Tisk, Tisk, Christian. I think to myself. It’s not polite to keep me waiting. I tap my foot in frustration at his lack of response. When he continues to ignore me, I pick up an expensive hand painted vase from a nearby table.
“Mon trésor,” calls Christian’s voice smoothly. “Your father bought that for us as a housewarming gift for this place. I don’t think—“
“You don’t think it can be replaced. Oops,” I say, dropping the vase and watching it shatter.
“Mon amour, please don’t break anything else.” He pleads, but it’s too late. I’ve crossed the room and am eyeing a piece of artwork hanging on the wall. Christian comes sliding in front of me. I dodge him by faking left. The painting comes flying off the wall with ease and careening across the room. Christian ducks to avoid being hit with my arsenal of expensive art.
“Sorry, that one slipped too,” I shrug. “You’re oh for three for saving things. Shall we continue?” I scream.
“Mon bijou, I’ve already apologized for letting Le Manchot take you away. Everything I did was so I could get you back. Ask Clay,” he says, trying to rationalize with me.
“Do you seriously think that I want an apology? Do you really think this is about an apology? I don’t care that I had to escape. I enjoyed every minute. The rush was divine.” I’m raving mad, revving up for an explosive eruption of emotion. I look around for something else to throw at him. Getting nailed in the head might knock some sense into him. I can’t even believe he thinks I want another apology.
“Quinn, don’t you see that’s what all of this is? It’s my apology, my attempt at redemption. A place where we can disappear from the stresses of life and enjoy being alone, tucked away from our enemies. This is our place, mon amour. I only wish to make it up to you.”
“What do you not understand, Christian?” I huff. “It’s always my love, my jewel, my treasure, my angel. I just want you to see me as a lioness, instead of all these other things. I am stronger than you think. I can take care of myself and I just proved it once again.” My body shakes as I clench my fists. I am seething with rage.
He takes a cautious step towards me. I can sense his hesitation. He’s afraid I will throw something else. I throw up my hands in surrender. “I’m done. Your precious art is safe, for now.”
A few moments later, I am back in his arms, right where he thinks I belong. His apologetic kisses fall against my neck as his warm breath tickles my skin. “I am sorry, my fierce lioness. I do not want to send you away, but I must. Years ago, I promised your father. I took an oath.”
“I don’t want to go, Christian. I can help you. Please don’t send me away.” It’s my turn to plead.
He kisses my forehead lightly. “Mon ange, I do not doubt your abilities. It is only that we are weak men; your father and I both. Our hearts would not withstand the loss of you. Just speaking such words makes my chest ache and my blood run cold. You are my everything, Quinn. You are my Queen.” Christian whispers as his hands move to cup my cheeks between them.
Curse this man and his ability to say all the right things. He knows just how to extinguish the fire burning beneath my skin. I let out a deep, shaky sigh. “I will go, love, but I will be miserable and hate every minute.”
He smiles. It’s rare I relent. His fingers drop to embrace me once more as they trace up my back in a soothing motion.
“When do I have to leave?” I ask, defeated, like the caged bird he’s turned me into.
