Bonds of Obsession (Pretty Ruthless Monsters #3)

31. Atlas

31

ATLAS

It seems like the flames are everywhere, even reflecting off the windows of the neighboring houses. A strangled noise tears from her throat, and before any of us can react, she’s out of the car and running toward the inferno.

For a moment, I’m completely frozen, watching the fire consume everything. It takes me back to another day, another fire, the one that burned our clubhouse to the ground. The heat, the destruction, the feeling of being helpless to save any of our belongings.

The stark memory locks my muscles for a second before I realize what Quinn is about to do.

“Fuck!” I run after her, ignoring the growing heat and my own wounds in the process. My arms wrap around her waist just as she reaches the front walk, yanking her back against me. The movement pulls at my stitches, but I don’t give a shit. Better torn stitches than a dead Quinn.

“Vicious, goddammit!” I have to yell in her ear to get her attention as she thrashes against me. “You can’t go in there!”

“I need to—I have to! Let me go!” Her elbow catches me in the ribs, making me grunt in pain. But I don’t loosen my grip. I can’t. The thought of her trying to run in there and getting overtaken by those flames?

No.

Fuck that.

“The whole fucking place is about to collapse,” I tell her. My throat already feels scratchy from yelling and from the acrid smoke already filling the air. “I’m not letting you kill yourself.”

The heat intensifies as something inside the house explodes, sending a shower of sparks into the night sky. The force of it nearly knocks us both off our feet. Sweat runs down my back as I hold her tighter, every protective instinct I have screaming at me to get her farther away from the blaze.

She fights me like a wild animal, all nails and elbows as she tries to break free. “Let me go!” she screams, her voice raw. “My father’s things—I have to—” She chokes on a sob that rips straight through my chest.

Nico and Killian catch up, helping me hold her back as the heat from the flames scorches our skin. I know the desperate need burning in her eyes, the pain that’s driving her to try to rush into certain death. I’ve felt that kind of desperation and pain before, and it kills me that I can’t do a fucking thing to stop it for her. I’d gladly absorb it all in a minute if I could.

“Please,” she begs, still struggling. “Please just let me go. You… you don’t understand…”

“I do, vicious. But it’s too late. There’s nothing we can do. We can’t save it.”

There’s nothing I want more than to give her some hope. If I thought we could make it five minutes in there, I’d be the first one charging in next to her.

“Fuck that!” She twists in our grip, tears cutting clean tracks through the fine layer of sweat and soot already clinging to her skin. “Everything I have left of him is in there! Everything!”

“I know,” I murmur against her hair, my chest aching at the raw pain in her voice. “I swear, I get it.”

I step to the side as Killian practically lifts her off her feet to put some more distance between us and the burning house. “Think about what your old man would want,” he says. His expression is hard as a fucking rock, but his tone is gentler than I’ve ever heard it. “He’d want you to stay alive more than he’d want you to save his shit.”

“He’s right,” Nico adds. “Your father would never forgive us if we let you go in there, mia cara.”

Quinn’s shoulders shake as another sob tears through her. “I can’t just stand here,” she whispers, the fight draining from her body. “I can’t just watch it all burn.”

She finally stops struggling, but her whole body is still trembling with emotion. And from the look on her face, the confusion and pain is quickly being replaced by pure, white-hot rage. “Ambrose,” she spits the name we’ve all come to hate with a shared passion. “That fucking bastard did this. It had to be him.”

My jaw clenches as I realize she’s probably right. That piece of shit isn’t going to be satisfied until he’s taken everything from her. “I swear to god,” I grit out through clenched teeth, “I’m going to rip his fucking throat out.”

“You’ll have to get in line,” Killian growls. “I’ve got plans for that motherfucker myself.”

Before any of us can say more, Quinn’s phone rings. She yanks it from her pocket, nearly dropping it as she swipes to answer.

“You son of a bitch!” she snarls into the phone, but her face changes immediately. I’m close enough to hear the panicked voice on the other end, and it’s definitely not Ambrose.

The color drains from her face as she listens. Her hand grips my forearm so tight I can feel her nails breaking the skin. “I’m on my way,” she says, ending the call. Her eyes meet mine, wide with a fresh round of fear. “Blood and Ink—he hit that too. Some of my people are trapped inside.”

Blood rushes in my ears as the implications sink in. This isn’t just about destroying Quinn’s home. Ambrose is trying to burn down her whole fucking world.

“That sick fuck,” Nico says, already moving toward the car. “He’s gonna fucking pay.”

I remember the sound of Ambrose’s laughter as he tortured me, and I can only imagine he’s laughing the same way now. And yeah, we are gonna make him fucking pay.

There’s no time for that now though. Quinn and her gang are our only priority in this moment.

“We need to move,” I say, guiding Quinn toward the car. “Now.”

We leave Quinn’s house to burn as Nico floors it toward Blood and Ink. Quinn is pressed against me in the backseat, her body thrumming with tension. I can feel her fighting to keep her shit together, to be the leader her people are going to need as soon as they see her.

“Call everyone,” she orders into her phone, her voice steady despite the tremor I can feel running through her. “Get whoever’s nearby to Blood and Ink. Now.”

The burning in my chest intensifies as we take a corner too fast, but I keep my mouth shut. This isn’t about me or my fucking injuries. We round the last bend, and my stomach drops.

Blood and Ink looks like a fucking torch, with flames already pouring from the broken windows. The fire hasn’t taken hold as completely as it did at Quinn’s place, but it’s only a matter of time.

“Fuck,” Killian mutters from the front seat. A crowd of Quinn’s people mill around outside, some trying to fight the flames with extinguishers that aren’t doing shit against a blaze this size.

“He really wants to burn it all down,” Nico says, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Fucking psychopath.”

Quinn is out of the car before we’ve fully stopped, and this time I don’t try to grab her. I know that look in her eyes. She’s not running toward danger blindly now—she has a purpose. Her people need her.

I follow her out, ignoring the sting in my lungs as smoke starts to fill them. The heat hits like a wall, making my skin prickle and sweat instantly bead on my forehead. Shouts and the crackle of flames fill the air as we approach the burning building.

“Jasper and Damon are still inside!” someone shouts over the roar of the flames. “They went down to the basement to grab some guns, and something collapsed?—”

“Fuck!” Quinn starts forward, but I catch her arm. Not to stop her this time, just to make her think for a second.

“If you go running in there half-cocked, you’ll get yourself killed,” I shout. “We need a plan.”

She whirls on me, eyes blazing brighter than the fire behind her. “Like hell you’re stopping me from going in there,” she snarls. “I’m not losing anyone else. Not one more fucking person.”

The raw determination in her voice hits me in the gut. I know that feeling, that desperation to protect what’s yours, no matter the cost. I’ve felt it every time I’ve looked at her since the day she got under my skin.

“I wasn’t planning on stopping you,” I say, meeting her gaze. “But I’m going in with you.”

“We all are,” Nico adds as he and Killian step up beside us.

Quinn looks between us for a moment, then gives a sharp nod. “We need wet rags,” she says, already pulling off her jacket. “And we need to know exactly where in the basement they were headed.”

One of her people points out the most likely spot while another runs to get rags from the bar next door. My chest tightens as I watch the flames eating away at the building. Time is running out fast.

The moment we have the wet rags over our faces, we enter through the front door, where flames are already licking up the walls and across the ceiling. The smoke is thick enough to make my eyes water instantly.

Every breath feels like swallowing razor blades, but I push through it, keeping close to Quinn as we navigate the burning shop. Thank fuck we’ve all spent enough time here to know every corner, but the heat and the smoke are making even the familiar layout seem disorienting.

“This way!” Quinn shouts over the roar of the flames, leading us toward the basement door. A burning beam crashes down behind us, showering sparks and making me grab her waist, yanking her forward just in time.

“Careful, vicious,” I rasp against her ear. “This whole place could come down any second.”

The memory of the night Ambrose ambushed the tattoo parlor hits me hard—Quinn was drugged, and I took a bullet to get her out. Now we’re walking straight back into hell, and it might be even more dangerous than it was that day.

Flames dance in the corners of my vision as we reach the basement door. The handle is hot enough to blister when Killian grabs it, cursing as he yanks his hand back.

“Stand back,” Nico orders, already moving to kick the door. The wood is warped from the heat, making it stick in the frame.

We all take turns ramming it, our desperation growing with each passing second. Finally, the door gives way with a crack that I can barely hear over the inferno around us. The basement stairs disappear into darkness below, with smoke rolling up past us as we start to move.

“Stay close,” Quinn says. “We do this fast, or we don’t make it out at all.”

The basement stairs creak under our weight as we descend blindly into the smoke-filled darkness.

“Jasper?” Quinn calls out, her voice muffled by the wet rag. “Damon?”

A weak cough answers from somewhere to our left. We follow the sound, doing our best to stay low where the smoke is thinner. The basement is a maze of storage areas and old furniture, with some of it already starting to burn.

“Here,” a voice croaks. Through the haze, I make out two figures. Damon is on his feet, supporting Jasper, who is trapped under what looks like a fallen shelf unit. Blood is running down the side of Jasper’s face, and his leg is bent at an angle that makes my stomach clench.

“Fuck,” Killian mutters, already moving to help. Above us, something crashes, sending vibrations through the ceiling. Dust and debris rain down, making us all look up.

“The whole fucking place is about to come down,” Nico says. “We need to get the fuck out.”

Together, we manage to lift the shelf off Jasper. He screams when we move him, but there’s no time to stop or to even take it easy on the poor guy. I take one side while Killian takes the other, and we start the brutal task of getting him up the stairs.

The walk back up to the ground floor feels like it takes forever, although it can’t be more than a minute or two. The smoke has gotten thicker, making it almost impossible to see, and heat is pressing in from all sides.

“Stay with me, man,” I grunt to Jasper as he groans. “We’re almost there.”

“I can’t—” Jasper coughs violently. “My leg?—”

“Shut up and keep moving,” Damon snaps. It’s easy to hear the fear in his voice, but I know from plenty of past experience in shitty situations that the best thing to do—the only way to stay alive—is to keep a calm head and keep moving forward.

We’re halfway to the front door when there’s a loud crack from above. Quinn looks up, her eyes widening. “Let’s move!” she shouts, leaping forward just as part of the ceiling gives way.

“Quinn!” I yell as debris rains down. Through the smoke, I see her dive clear of the falling beam.

“I’m good!” she calls back, coughing. “Keep going!”

Killian and I rush forward with Jasper as debris rains down on our backs. The impact sends fresh waves of pain through my chest, but I grit my teeth and keep moving. There’s no time for anything else.

“This way!” Nico calls from somewhere ahead. “The front door is still clear!”

“Fucking hurry!” Killian shouts. “That main beam is on fire!”

I close my eyes against the smoke and put one foot in front of the other, praying that nothing else falls in our path. Jasper has gone limp between me and Killian, which makes him harder to carry and probably means he only has a few more minutes to live without some help.

“He’s not breathing right,” Killian grunts as we struggle forward.

“Just get him out,” I say. “We can deal with that outside.”

Finally, just as I’m questioning whether we’re going to make it, we stumble out into the cool darkness, gasping and coughing as we drag Jasper to safety.

The wail of sirens is getting louder and louder as we collapse on the pavement. Finally, the fucking fire department shows up, but it’s probably too late for Blood and Ink. The building is fully engulfed now, with flames shooting through the roof.

“Someone call a fucking ambulance!” Quinn shouts, dropping to her knees beside Jasper.

“We already did,” one of her people calls back. “They’re three minutes out!”

Enigma members swarm around us, with a few of them helping to get Jasper laid out flat. His breathing is shallow, but he’s still alive. We all are, thank fucking god, although my lungs feel like they’re full of broken glass.

“Everyone get back!” a firefighter shouts, pushing through the crowd. “Clear the area!”

“Like hell,” Quinn snarls, but I grab her arm.

“Let them work,” I say. “There’s nothing else we can do right now.”

Another firefighter approaches us. “Is anyone else inside?”

“No,” Nico answers, his voice rough from the smoke. “We got everyone out.”

“You people are lucky to be alive,” the firefighter says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, real fucking lucky,” Killian mutters, watching the flames consume the building.

Quinn stands a few feet away, her face streaked with soot and her eyes reflecting the flames. I can see the weight of everything settling on her shoulders as her people gather around, looking to her for guidance.

“Quinn,” one of her guys approaches. “What do you want us to do?”

“Take a head count,” she orders, nodding toward where he lies. “Double check everyone is safe and accounted for.” Her voice is steady, but I can hear the strain underneath. She’s holding it together by a thread.

We move back as the firefighters work, joining the crowd of Quinn’s people who’ve gathered across the street. The cat we rescued earlier is still safe in the car, probably scared shitless but alive—pretty much like the rest of us.

The ambulance finally arrives, its lights painting Quinn’s face in alternating red and white as the EMTs load Jasper into the back. She hasn’t moved from her spot or taken her eyes off the building. Like the rest of us, all she can do is stand here and watch while her world burns down.

“Jasper will pull through,” I tell her, moving closer. “We’ll all pull through.”

She doesn’t respond. She just keeps staring at the burning building. She’s covered in soot and ash, and there’s a small burn on her arm that probably needs treatment, but I know better than to mention it right now.

“Quinn.” Cabby approaches with a grim look on his face. “We saved some of the cash from the office, but everything else…” He trails off, gesturing helplessly at the inferno.

“The books?” she asks quietly. “The client records?”

“Most of it is gone.” Cabby’s voice is strained. “Everything is just… gone.”

Her jaw clenches so hard I can see the muscle jump. More of her people drift closer, their expressions ranging from shock to anger to fear. They’re looking to her for answers, for direction, for some kind of hope to cling to.

“What’s our next move?” someone asks. “Are we hitting back at whoever did this?”

“Yeah,” another voice chimes in. “Just say the word. We’ll make the bastards pay.”

I’ve been watching Quinn’s face, and I can see the exact moment something inside her breaks. But instead of crumbling, she seems to harden.

“There won’t be a next move,” she says, her voice carrying over the murmur of voices. “Not for Enigma.”

A shocked silence falls over everyone listening.

“What do you mean?” Cabby steps forward first, the color draining from his face. “We can rebuild. We can?—”

“No.” Quinn cuts him off. There’s a steely determination in her voice that tells me her mind is already made up. “I’m disbanding Enigma. Tonight. Right now.”

“You can’t do that!” someone shouts from the back. “This is our family!”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” Her voice almost breaks, but she pushes through. “Look around you. This isn’t just business anymore. This is personal. They’re burning down our world, and I won’t—” She swallows hard. “I won’t watch anyone else die for my fights.”

“They’re our fights too,” Cabby says, but he’s just wasting his breath.

There’s nothing that’s going to change Quinn’s mind on this. Not tonight, anyway.

“Not anymore.” Quinn shakes her head. “I’m releasing all of you from the obligations you’ve made to Enigma. Take the money we saved, split it, and get out while you can.”