40. Quinn
40
QUINN
I stare at Emmett where he’s bound to the chair. He’s completely helpless right now, and we have him right where we want him. He knows it too. His eyes dart between me and Killian like a cornered rat. Gone is the swagger and the easy confidence that made me trust him for so long. In its place is raw animal terror.
“Quinn, please. You know me.” His voice is raspy, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple.
My jaw tightens as memories flash through my mind—memories of Emmett at my right hand during deals, watching my back in firefights, and sharing drinks after successful jobs. All those times I handed him sensitive information about our operations, our suppliers, our safe houses. Information he was probably selling to the highest bidder, even back then.
“Yeah, I thought I did.” I can’t help the bitter tone or the disgusted look on my face. “Guess I was fucking blind. I can see you now though.”
He squirms against the restraints, but I feel nothing but cold contempt as I watch him writhe in pain.
“It’s not what you think—” Emmett tries to straighten up and puff out his chest like the tough guy he pretended to be. But one dark look from Killian makes him shrink back into himself.
“Save it.” I step closer, letting him see the disgust in my eyes. “I trusted you. I treated you like part of my family, and you sold us out the first chance you got.”
His tough guy act crumbles completely as the four of us stare at him. His last-ditch effort to feign loyalty falls away to reveal the sniveling coward underneath. I still can’t believe I never saw through it before.
“Please…” He’s openly trembling now, and it’s seriously making my stomach turn. “I can explain everything.”
But there’s nothing left to explain. There’s not a fucking thing in the world that could justify his betrayal. I trusted him with everything—my business, my crew, and my life. And he proved exactly how much that trust was worth.
“You know what’s funny?” My voice sounds cold, even to my own ears. “Even when these men were our enemies, they showed more fucking honor than you ever did.”
I step closer, enjoying the way he flinches. “But you? You sold out your own gang because you couldn’t handle the fact that I didn’t want your worthless dick.”
“It wasn’t like that—” Emmett starts.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Atlas growls.
“No, let him talk.” I lean in closer. “Tell me what it was like then. Tell me how you justified it.”
Emmett’s eyes dart between all of us. “You were fucking everything up, getting in bed with them?—”
“Careful,” Killian warns, pressing his blade against Emmett’s throat.
“How much?” Nico demands. “How much did Ambrose pay you to betray her?”
When Emmett stays quiet, Killian applies more pressure with the knife. A thin line of blood appears on his neck.
“Twenty grand,” Emmett chokes out. “And promised me more when?—”
“When what?” I cut him off. “When he killed me? When he took over my territory?” I grab his chin, forcing him to look at me. “You’re fucking pathetic. No loyalty. No spine. Just a rat who’ll do anything to save his own worthless skin.”
“I should’ve killed him the first time I saw him eye-fucking you,” Atlas mutters.
“We can still make that happen,” Killian offers, his blade still pressed to Emmett’s throat. “Just say the word.”
“No, I had it right the first time, didn’t I? You couldn’t handle that a woman didn’t want you. You had to prove you were a big man by selling out everyone who ever gave a shit about you.” My lip curls in disgust. “And look at you now. You can’t even look me in the eye.”
His head hangs low, and his shoulders are shaking like he’s trying to hold back tears, but I don’t fucking care. Part of me expected to feel something watching him break—satisfaction, anger, anything. But there’s nothing. Just a hollow emptiness where my trust used to be.
“You’re not even worth the bullet it’ll take to end you.” I turn away from his sniffling. “And that’s the saddest part of all.”
I pace in front of Emmett, getting more and more pissed off by his pathetic display of shame and contrition. His shoulders slump forward and his bottom lip trembles like a scolded child. I’m not fucking buying it.
“Cut the wounded puppy act. Your crocodile tears mean fuck all to me now.”
Behind me, Killian’s fingers drum against the knife handle in a steady rhythm that makes Emmett flinch with each tap.
“The only thing keeping you breathing right now is what’s in that treacherous head of yours.” I stop directly in front of him. “And trust me when I say Killian here has ways of getting it out that’ll make you wish I’d just shot you.”
Emmett’s eyes flick to Killian and back to the floor. He looks like he’s ready to piss his pants.
Good.
“You know his reputation. You’ve heard the stories about what he does to people who cross him.” I lean down until I’m at eye level. “And right now, the only thing holding him back is me.”
“I-I’ll tell you everything.” His voice comes out in a broken whisper.
“You’re goddamn right you will. Because if you hold anything back, if you try to play games…” I straighten up and step aside, giving Killian room to move closer. “I’ll gladly let him carve you up until there’s nothing left to identify your body.”
Killian’s blade catches the light as he tests the edge with his thumb. The soft scraping sound makes Emmett’s whole body shake.
“Your remorse means nothing. Your excuses mean nothing. The only value you have left is information.” I cross my arms. “So start talking before I decide you’re more useful as Killian’s new practice dummy.”
“You don’t understand. Ambrose has more connections than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s got people everywhere, and I just—” Emmett’s words cut off in a sharp gasp as Killian’s fingers find a pressure point in his shoulder.
“Wrong answer.” Killian’s voice stays eerily calm as he increases the pressure. “Try again.”
Sweat beads on Emmett’s forehead. “Fuck! Okay, okay—I reached out to him again last week. I thought?—”
Another squeeze from Killian makes him yelp.
“Stop trying to spin this,” I snap. “Just tell us what you did.”
“I contacted Ambrose!” The words burst from him in a rush. “I heard rumors about his plans for Detroit, about the backing he had. Everyone knows he’s making moves to take over.”
Atlas snorts. “And you wanted to be on the winning team.”
“You don’t get it—he’s got support from Chicago, from New York. The smart money’s on him taking everything.” Emmett’s voice trembles. “I was just trying to—fuck!”
Killian’s fingers dig deeper into the nerve cluster. “Details.”
“I told him about Quinn’s new alliance! About her working with you three!” The confession comes out in a desperate rush. “He said—he said once he took over, he’d remember who helped him. He said there’d be places for people who showed loyalty early.”
Loyalty. I can’t believe he has the guts—or the stupidity—to use that word in front of me.
“You worthless piece of shit.” I lean in close. “You sold me out twice because you thought backing Ambrose would get you a better position?”
“He’s going to win!” Emmett’s voice rises. “Everyone knows it. The whole city is going to be his soon, and I just wanted?—”
“To save your own skin,” Nico finishes, the disgust clear in his voice.
“Please,” Emmett whimpers as Killian maintains the pressure. “That’s everything. I swear.”
I step back, letting his words hang in the air. I can’t tell whether he’s holding back or not. But I’d be willing to bet that even now, he’s probably trying like hell to figure out how to save his own ass.
“Where is Ambrose hiding?” I demand, watching Emmett’s face for any sign of deception.
His eyes dart between the four of us. “I-I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.” Killian grabs Emmett’s hand and bends back his index finger until the joint creaks. A sharp crack echoes through the room, followed by Emmett’s howl of pain.
“Jesus fuck!” Sweat pours down Emmett’s face as he thrashes against the restraints. “I swear I don’t know! He never—ahh!”
Another snap as Killian works on the middle finger.
“We only met in random places!” Emmett’s words tumble out between sobs. “It was a different location every time. He’d text me an address an hour before?—”
“You expect us to believe that?” Atlas moves closer, his presence making Emmett shrink farther into the chair.
“It’s true! He never trusted me enough—fuck, please!” His eyes are wild with genuine terror as Killian reaches for his ring finger. “He knew I was Quinn’s lieutenant. He kept everything compartmentalized. He has different crews in different locations—he never let anyone know where his base was!”
He’s gasping for breath by the time he finishes speaking, his mouth hanging open. His entire body trembles, and his forehead is shiny with sweat.
“He’s telling the truth,” Nico says quietly, studying Emmett’s face. “He doesn’t know.”
I nod slowly, recognizing the genuine terror in Emmett’s expression. He’s too much of a coward to hold anything back while Killian is breaking his fingers one by one.
“Fine.” I step closer to Emmett’s chair. “Then tell us everything you do know about his operation. I want to know every meeting spot, every face you saw, every scrap of information he let slip. And if you leave anything out…” I gesture to his mangled hand. “Well, you’ve still got eight more fingers to go through.”
“And ten toes,” Killian adds with a predatory smile.
Emmett’s words spill out between gasps and sobs as Killian works. The locations he gives us are useless—random street corners, abandoned buildings, parking lots. Nothing ties back to Ambrose’s actual base of operations.
“The old warehouse on Fourth—that’s where I met his lieutenant last week.” Blood drips from Emmett’s split lip. “He’s a big guy, with a face like he got hit by a truck.”
“Marcus,” Atlas nods. “One of his enforcers. The son of a bitch worked me over pretty good when Ambrose had me locked up.”
Killian applies pressure to another pressure point and Emmett screams. But his story doesn’t change—he just gives us more disposable meeting spots and faces we already know about.
“He never—fuck!—never let anyone see where he actually operated from. He always had a different burner phone every time. A different car and a different crew picking me up.”
The raw desperation in his voice hits something in my gut. I’ve seen Emmett lie plenty of times before, but this isn’t it. This is pure animal terror, the kind that strips away all pretense.
“Ambrose always was a paranoid fuck,” Atlas mutters. “Even back when we worked with him. He never let anyone know his full operation. Hell, we didn’t even know his fucking name.”
I watch as Killian works Emmett over with clinical precision. But no matter what he does, the story stays consistent. Just more dead-end locations and mid-level thugs we already know about.
“He’s not lying.” Killian steps back, wiping his blade clean. “He doesn’t know shit about Ambrose’s actual operation.”
“We’re wasting our fucking time on this fucker,” Nico spits.
He’s right. We’ve squeezed everything useful out of Emmett, and it amounts to nothing. Just confirmation that Ambrose is as careful and paranoid as ever. This lead is ice cold.
I pace in front of Emmett’s chair, my fingers curling into fists. All that work, all that planning to catch this rat, and we got nothing useful out of him. The urge to slam my knuckles into his face burns through my arms. At least the pain would make me feel better about wasting my time on this worthless asshole.
“Fuck!” I slam my hand against the wall, the impact sending sharp sparks through my fingers.
But the burst of pain clears my head. My eyes snap back to Emmett’s trembling form, and something clicks into place as a dangerous idea unfolds in my mind.
If we can’t find Ambrose’s base? Fine. We’ll make him come to us.
A cold smile plays at my lips as I work through the details. Emmett thinks Ambrose is going to win? Let’s see how confident he feels when his perfect plan goes sideways.
“Quinn?” There’s a familiar concern in Atlas’s voice. He knows that look on my face.
I turn slowly, meeting each of their eyes. Killian’s posture shifts, his fingers tightening on his blade. Nico’s expression darkens as he reads the calculated violence in my smile. Atlas takes a half-step forward, torn between concern and anticipation.
They all recognize this moment—when the odds shift and the game changes. When the predator becomes prey.
“I know that look,” Killian says softly. “What are you thinking?”
My smile widens as I turn back to Emmett. His eyes go wide with fresh terror as he sees my expression.
“Oh god,” he whispers. “What are you going to do?”
“You want Ambrose to win so badly?” I lean down, getting right in Emmett’s face. “Let’s help him get what he wants. Let’s give him exactly what he’s been looking for—me.”
“What are you—” Atlas starts, but stops as understanding dawns on his face.
“Think about it. Ambrose wants me dead or under his control. He’s been hunting me for months, always staying hidden, always working through proxies.” My pulse quickens as the plan takes shape. “But what if his loyal informant suddenly had something too good to pass up?”
Killian’s eyes narrow as he starts to catch on. “You want to use the traitor as bait.”
“Better than that. I want to use him as a messenger. Let him tell Ambrose that he’s found a way to get to me. That he knows exactly where I’ll be, completely exposed.”
“Jesus,” Nico breathes. “You’re talking about setting yourself up as the target.”
“I’m talking about turning the hunter into prey.” The more I talk, the more possibilities unfold in my mind. “We control the location. We control the timing. We make Ambrose think he’s finally got his shot at taking me out.”
Emmett’s face goes pale as he realizes what I’m suggesting. “He’ll kill me if?—”
“He’ll kill you anyway, you stupid fuck.” I grab his chin. “But maybe, just maybe, if you play your part right, you might actually survive this.”
The tension in the room is fully palpable. I can feel it in the way Atlas’s shoulders bunch, in the absolute stillness that comes over Killian, and in the dangerous glint in Nico’s eyes.
“It’s risky as hell,” Atlas says quietly. “But it could work.”
“It will work.” I’ve never been more certain of anything. “Because Ambrose won’t be able to resist the chance to finally get his hands on me.”
“This is insane.” Atlas runs his hands through his hair. “You’re talking about using yourself as bait for a psychopath.”
“We’re not letting you do this,” Nico says, his jaw clenched. “There has to be another way.”
I slam my palm against the wall. “What other way? We’ve been chasing shadows for too long, and everyone in this room knows it. Every lead goes cold. Every trap comes up empty. And now we’ve got the Dark Lotus breathing down our necks too.”
“Then we deal with them first,” Killian argues. “We can’t fight a war on two fronts.”
“That’s exactly my point.” I face them all. “How long before Ambrose makes a deal with them? How can we ever be safe while we’re constantly playing defense? I’m done watching everything we built get torn apart piece by piece.”
Atlas steps closer. “Quinn?—”
“No.” I cut him off. “I won’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. We’ve already lost Enigma, the Princes, and our home. Good people have died just so Ambrose can send us a message. Next time, it could be one of us.”
“So we’re supposed to give him a clear shot at you?” Nico’s tone is hard. “That’s not a solution.”
“I’m not asking for permission.” My voice stays steady as steel. “Either help me set this up, or I’ll do it myself. But I’m done hiding.”
The silence that follows is one of the most uncomfortable things I’ve felt in a long time. They exchange looks—concern, anger, fear—but I don’t back down.
“He’ll bring an army,” Killian says quietly.
“Good. Then we’ll kill them all at once.”
Atlas grabs my arm. “This isn’t a game, vicious. If this goes wrong?—”
“Then I’ll die on my feet instead of waiting for him to pick us off one by one.” I meet his eyes. “I won’t live like this anymore. I can’t. We can’t.”
I turn back to Emmett and take a few more seconds to savor the look of fear in his eyes. His unbroken fingers twitch against the chair’s arms, knuckles white where they grip the metal.
“Looks like you’re finally going to earn your keep.” I lean down until we’re eye to eye. “You’re going to help me get to Ambrose.”
“Please,” he whispers. “He’ll kill me.”
“That’s not my problem. Your only concern right now is doing exactly what I tell you, exactly how I tell you to do it. Because if you don’t…” I straighten up and gesture to Killian. “You’ll wish for whatever death Ambrose might have given you.”
Behind me, I hear Atlas exhale sharply. But when I glance back, he gives me a tight nod. Nico’s jaw is clenched, but he nods too—ready to back my play. Killian’s eyes never leave Emmett, and his stillness is more threatening than any motion could be.
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I turn back to Emmett. “You’re going to contact Ambrose. Tell him you’ve found a way to get to me, and that you know exactly where I’ll be, and when I’ll be the most vulnerable.”
“But—”
“I wasn’t asking.” I grab a fistful of his hair and tighten my grip until he winces. “You’ll tell him exactly what I say, when I say it. You’ll set up the meeting exactly how I specify.”
Sweat rolls down his temple as he swallows hard. “What if he doesn’t believe me?”
“Then you’d better be very convincing.” I release his hair and straighten up. “Because your pathetic life depends on making this work.”