Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry. If I knew then what I know now, I never would’ve been such a dick to you.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You were only doing what you thought was right. Trying to honor Megan’s memory. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at whoever set me up and left her for dead.”
“Even still, I don’t know how you did it. I mean, holding that in for so long, and the way people treat you…” I trail off and reach out on impulse, putting my hand on top of his.
He looks at me for a long moment before shifting closer and reaching out. His other fist moves into my hair, and he pulls me against him, kissing me deep and long. I kiss him back and need him to hold me right now, to make me feel like things might be okay, like we have a chance to find out the truth about what happened to Megan when it feels like the clan is arrayed against us. I want hope, and I need him to give it to me.
The kiss breaks off. He stares into my eyes and I stare into his. There’s so much I want to say. How sorry I am, how I wish I learned everything sooner, how if I could go back in time and change things, I never would’ve called him a liar, never would’ve run away to college, never would’ve hurt myself and everyone around me in my self-destructive spiral.
I open my mouth to say it, but he looks over my shoulder and his face darkens.
“Quinn,” he says, staring at something behind me.
I clear my throat, thrown off-balance. “Sorry, what?”
“Quinn.” He nods at the window and I follow his gaze.
And there, standing with a group of other clan guys, is the man we’re looking for. The young men laugh with each other as they move toward the corner down the block and most of them keep going, except for Quinn. He stays behind, leaning up against a light pole, directly in front of the playground. Like the sick bastard plans on dealing right there with children within shouting distance.
“Let’s go have a conversation with that asshole,” Rian says and puts the truck in drive.
Chapter 21
Daley
Rian rolls down the street until we’re directly across from Quinn. He puts the window down and leans across me, the truck idling as cars honk and go past.
“Hey, asshole,” he shouts and Quinn looks over with a scowl. He frowns, staring for several seconds—before he turns and takes off.
“What the hell?” I’m too shocked to process what’s happening as Rian throws the car into gear and follows him.
Quinn cuts into the playground. Rian’s forced to go around, driving way too fast. He hits the next turn, goes right, and drives alongside as Quinn comes out along a path up ahead. He’s running hard, arms flailing, legs pumping, and he cuts into the street and crosses toward a neighborhood. The truck’s tires scream as Rian throws it into a left turn and we zoom down the street after him, narrowly missing a minivan coming from the opposite direction.
Quinn runs through yards, and we stay on his tail, sometimes going slow to spot him again, sometimes speeding up. He gets deeper and deeper into a residential area, getting away from the massive single-family homes that make up most of central Media and into the row houses along the fringes. Quinn angles down an alley, and Rian lets out a growl as he speeds around the block.
We nearly T-bone an old lady in a Subaru but manage to swerve just in time. Rian gets the truck down the block just as Quinn comes bursting out of the alley and smashes right into the door, bouncing off and hitting the pavement with a loud shout. Rian slams on the brakes and throws open his door, getting out before the truck even comes to a full stop, and I have to lunge across the seats to slam my foot on the brake and put it into park.
Quinn’s trying to get to his feet, but Rian’s on him. Rian hits him once in the face and again when Quinn tries to rise before grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him to the truck. Rian opens the door and shoves Quinn into the back, right in broad daylight, and climbs in with him.
“Daley, drive.”
I put it into drive and get moving. My hands are trembling and I’m buzzing with adrenaline. An old man’s sitting on his porch frowning at us, but he only waves as I go past.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Quinn says through a bloody mouth. “You almost fucking killed me.”
“Why were you running?” Rian hits him in the face again. “Why you start running the second you saw me, huh, Quinn?”