20. Atlas
20
ATLAS
The living room TV is on, but I can’t focus on whatever is playing. The volume is too low to hear with my fucked-up ear anyway, but that’s not the main problem right now. I’m pretty sure it could be turned up to full blast and my mind would still be a million miles away.
Or, more accurately, on the other side of Detroit.
Killian is sprawled across the couch, and his usual calm, collected stillness has been replaced by a restless energy that has him fidgeting and tapping his fingers against his thigh. I’m no better, shifting in the armchair every few minutes, unable to find a comfortable position.
We’re both lost in our own thoughts, but I’d bet my life they’re circling the same things—Quinn, Nico, and the endless fucking possibilities of what could be happening right now.
“He should have been back by now,” I say finally, just to get the words out of my head.
“Give them time.” Killian’s voice is just as steady and measured as it always is, but I can tell by the way the muscle in his jaw clenches that he’s just as on edge as I am.
Time.
That’s all we seem to have now. Days and nights that run together so relentlessly that this safe house is starting to feel more and more like a prison.
And it’s only gotten worse since Quinn has been gone. I’m pretty sure I’ve been through all the stages of grief and back again, but the note she sent us has at least given me the tiniest flicker of hope that things might eventually get better.
Just the fact that she reached out to us shows that she didn’t mean all that shit she said the night she left with Malcolm. Deep down, I knew it couldn’t be true, even then. She wasn’t acting like herself, and she didn’t really look like herself either. She looked…
Broken.
My throat tightens, and for a moment, I have to close my eyes and swallow hard. If Malcolm has done anything to her, I swear to god I’ll rip him limb from limb with my bare fucking hands.
Or worse—what if he’s caught Nico and Quinn together? What if that’s the hold up?
“Getting yourself worked up won’t help them.” Killian gives me a pointed look, and I belatedly realize I’ve been gripping the arms of this chair so hard that my knuckles are practically white.
“I should have gone with him.”
He shakes his head. “Nico never would’ve let you go. For the same reason he wouldn’t have let me.”
I know he’s right because we’ve been over this at least a half-dozen times since Nico has been gone. Hell, Nico said as much himself before he left.
Still, at least I could do something if I was there. If they got into some kind of trouble, I’d be right there to help.
“I hate just sitting around here, not knowing what the hell is going on. It’s driving me crazy.”
“You and me both, brother.” Killian shifts, stretching out his legs and crossing his feet. “We just have to wait and try to be patient. Nico and Quinn can take care of themselves better than almost anyone else I’ve ever met. He’ll be back.”
The lock clicks and both of us are on our feet in an instant with our hands moving to our weapons. But it’s Nico who steps through the door, and I can instantly feel some of the tension leave my shoulders.
“Well?” I ask before he’s even fully inside. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear my own voice over it. “Was she there?”
He nods, and I can tell there’s something different about him. He isn’t as tense and angry as he was when he left here earlier. He’s still on edge like the rest of us, for sure, but not like he was before. “Yeah. She was there.”
Killian quickly wipes his palms on his jeans—a subtle but telling sign that he really was nervous. “Tell us everything.”
Nico walks past us and drops down onto the couch Killian just vacated with a long sigh. “She convinced Malcolm to let her rebuild Enigma, starting with a new home for Blood and Ink. There’s an old building her father used to own, right down the block from that bar, with a tunnel connecting the basements of both places.”
I can’t help but laugh a little. “That’s fucking genius.”
Even Nico grins a little as he tells us more about it. “Malcolm has guys following her, but they just see her going in and out of the shop. They don’t know about the tunnel.” He pauses and his smile slips. “She’s been coming to the bar every night and waiting for one of us to show up.”
Something in my chest tightens as I picture Quinn waiting there night after night, hoping we’d get her message, but never knowing if we would come.
Or if we still trusted her enough to try.
“Is she okay, though?” I have to ask. I have to know. “Has he…”
As badly as I need to know, I can’t force myself to finish that sentence. Thank fuck Nico is on top of it.
“He hasn’t touched her. Yet. But she says he won’t wait forever.”
Killian goes completely still, and I can immediately feel a wave of anger rolling off of him. “If that dickbag lays a hand on her, I’ll fucking?—”
“She has a plan,” Nico cuts in, even though I’m pretty sure we’re all sharing Killian’s murderous thoughts. “She thinks she can turn the other Syndicate members against Malcolm. Apparently they’re not too happy with how he bends the rules to suit himself.”
I nod along, liking where this is going. “Vicious wants to start an insurrection.”
“Exactly. But it’ll take time.” Nico looks between us, frowning. “We have to be patient and let her work this out her way.”
Patience. There’s that fucking word again.
I’ve only just learned about her plan, and I’m already tired of being patient.
But if anyone can take down Malcolm and the whole fucking Syndicate from the inside, it’s our Quinn. She’s got the brains and the balls for it.
“She’ll leave messages for us at the bar,” Nico continues, his gaze distant like he’s already planning out every detail. “Mickey will help pass them along. It’s not perfect, but it’s something.”
“It’s a lifeline,” Killian says. “It’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative. We’ll just have to be ready when she needs us. Whatever she needs.”
“Exactly.” Nico nods. “In the meantime, we’ll keep building Carnage back up so we’ll be in a better position to help her take that asshole down when the time comes.”
I start to leave the room but stop myself. Where the hell am I gonna go? This house is too fucking small to burn off all the restless energy I have. All I know for sure is that the longer we sit around talking about Quinn, the more I wanna put my fucking fist through a wall.
Instead, I pace back and forth from the living room to the hallway, then to the kitchen before finally giving up and standing still again.
“We’ll get her back,” Nico says, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he passes by on the way to his room. “It’s the only option.”
“Yeah.” I shake my head and try to swallow down the knot in my throat. “Yeah, I know.”
He starts to walk away but I catch his arm, then lean in and inhale without giving a single fuck about how weird it looks. I can smell her on him—and not any sort of perfume or lotion or any of that shit.
I can smell her.
“Did you fuck her?” I ask even though I already know the answer. It’s that scent. It’s too fucking powerful and intoxicating to ignore.
Nico freezes and his eyes go wide for a split-second, but he doesn’t try to pull away or deny what he’s done. All he does is give me a single, simple nod.
“Good.” My reply seems to surprise both of us. It’s not the word I would’ve chosen a few months ago, but a lot has changed since then.
And if I can’t be with her right now, I can at least take some small comfort in knowing she’s being taken care of by one of our own.
He opens his mouth to say something, but the familiar ringtone of his burner phone interrupts him, and he answers before the second ring.
“Yeah?”
I can tell by the booming voice on the other end of the line that it’s Kendrick calling, and I don’t have to strain too hard to hear what they’re talking about. Hell, I’m pretty sure Killian can hear both sides of the conversation pretty fucking clearly from the other side of the living room.
When Nico hangs up, he verifies everything I’ve just heard, and fills in a couple of the gaps. “That was Kendrick. I guess Zoey is asking to meet with us.”
“Fuck her, “ I snarl, feeling a rush of rage at the mention of my ex. “She doesn’t deserve to meet with us. She barely deserves the bullet I’d like to waste on her.”
“She definitely deserves that,” Killian says quietly before turning to face Nico from the couch. “Do we have any idea what she wants?”
“No fucking clue.” Nico shrugs. “I doubt it’s to catch up and shoot the shit about the good old days.”
I can’t help but snort at the mental image that conjures up. “She’s probably just gonna be looking for new ways to fuck us, and that’s assuming the whole thing isn’t some kind of trap to begin with.”
Killian nods. “That sounds pretty accurate to me.”
“It sounds about right to me too,” Nico says. “But I think we should go anyway. We’ll be able to tell a lot more about her operation if we see her face to face. Right now, all we have is Kendrick and a few other guys to keep us updated on the moves she’s making and the amount of loyalty she still commands. And no offense to any of our own guys, but I’d rather see that shit and make that determination myself, you know?”
He’s right and he has a damn good point. If we really are going to rebuild Carnage to what it used to be—or hell, even better than it used to be—we’ll have to deal with Zoey at some point. At least this way we don’t have to go running in blind when the time comes.
At least we’ll all be able to get out of this fucking house for a while. That’s some welcome news, even if I have a ball in the pit of my stomach at the prospect of seeing my ex again.
Back in the day, we’d have rolled into this meeting with two dozen bikes, engines roaring, making sure everyone knew the Princes of Carnage had arrived. Now we’re down to a borrowed SUV with some reinforced plating and blacked-out windows. Kendrick and a few other loyal Princes follow on their bikes, but it’s a far cry from what we used to be.
Broken brick factories stretch out on all sides, with their windows busted and metal rusted to shit. I check every corner and every shadow until we finally make it to the outskirts of the industrial park.
The buildings here have long since been knocked down and mostly cleared away. There’s still some rubble here and there, but it’s mostly flat, broken concrete for at least a mile in every direction.
If they called us out here to ambush us, they’ll have to put in some work to make that possible.
Zoey stands in the middle of the cracked lot with Stefan and four Twisted Tyrants spread out behind them. Six people total. I fight back a smirk—is that really all they could scrape together? The Tyrants should have twenty, thirty members easy. Either Zoey doesn’t trust most of her own people, or they don’t trust her.
I guess her leadership isn’t working out as well as she’d hoped.
I keep scanning the horizon through my window, watching for any movement or flash of metal, any hint of a headlight that might give away their backup.
Nothing.
Nico stops the SUV thirty feet from Zoey. Close enough to hear whatever bullshit she’s got to say, but far enough to react if shit hits the fan. We might technically outnumber them, but only by a couple of men, so it’s better to keep things from turning bloody if we can.
No point in doing Malcolm any favors by getting ourselves fucked up.
Even from here, I can see that Zoey looks different now. Colder and harder, with an ugly sneer as she watches us pull up. Whatever I used to see in her is long gone, eaten up by what she did to us.
And that’s fucking fine, as far as I’m concerned. Hating her makes my job easier.
“Are we ready?” Nico’s hand is already on the door.
Killian snorts. “I can’t wait to hear whatever lies she’s got lined up this time.”
I check my gun one last time and grab the door handle. Whatever game Zoey is playing here, we can handle it. We’ve been through worse.
We step out of the SUV with Nico in the lead while Killian and I flank him. Kendrick and the others line up behind us. There might be fewer of us than back in the day, but I’d still rather be on our side than theirs.
Zoey steps forward with Stefan hovering at her side like a fucking lap dog. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she snaps before we’ve even stopped walking. “Poaching my members? Turning my people against me?”
Nico actually laughs, and I can see by the way she flinches that it stings Zoey’s pride to stand there and take it.
Good.
“Is that what you think is happening?” He shakes his head. “You’re gonna ask us to come all the way out here just so you can accuse us of stealing your people? This is fucking ridiculous.”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Zoey hisses. “Kendrick, Hudson, the others—they were loyal to me until you got in their heads.”
I catch Kendrick’s eye and see him bristle at the mention of his name. I can tell from her quick glance in his direction that Zoey doesn’t miss it either.
“We’re not poaching shit,” Nico says. “We’re accepting members who realized what a big fucking mistake they made by following you. People who are smart enough to know a shitty leader when they see one.”
The words land like an actual slap in the face. Zoey’s jaw tightens, and I can see her hands clench into fists at her sides. Stefan shifts his weight like he’s going to step forward, but she holds up a hand to stop him.
“You want to talk about shitty leadership? You’re the one who fucked everything up for all of us.” Her voice trembles slightly with pent-up rage. “You’re the reason we had to split in the first place.”
It’s a fucking lie and we all know it. Disagreements happen, but there are ways to settle that shit. Starting a fucking coup isn’t one of the ways.
But Nico doesn’t take the bait. He just stares at her with a blank—almost bored—expression. “If that’s all you wanted to say, we’re done here.”
Zoey takes a deep breath, visibly reining in her anger. When she opens her mouth to talk again, her tone has shifted completely. “No, that’s not why I called this meeting.” She glances at Stefan, then back to us. “I want to propose something. Something that could benefit all of us.”
I exchange a quick look with Killian. I don’t know what she’s about to say, but there’s zero chance it’ll benefit us. I’ve heard that tone from her plenty of times over the years. She’s desperate for something.
“I think we should join forces again,” Zoey continues. “We could bring the Twisted Tyrants and what’s left of Carnage back together. One banner, one club.”
The silence that follows is deafening, and I can’t stop myself from taking a quick glance around, wondering who is going to break it first.
“You’re joking,” Killian finally says.
“I’m dead serious.” Zoey steps closer. “Look around if you don’t believe me. Detroit is changing. The balance of power is shifting. We’re all vulnerable on our own, but together? We could take back what is rightfully ours.” Her tone is almost pleading now, and my jaw clenches when I think of all the times I fell for her shit in the past.
I can feel my brothers thinking it over—not because we’d ever consider it, but because we’re trying to figure out her angle. What has changed over the past few weeks to make her come crawling back like this?
Whatever the reason, I’m not biting. Nico isn’t either. He snorts, shaking his head. “It’ll never happen, Zoey. Not in this fucking lifetime.”
Her features harden again in an instant, and I’m amazed all over again how she can flip her emotions off and on like a goddamn switch. “You’re making a mistake. A huge one.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve thought that about me,” Nico says with a shrug.
Frustration flashes across her face and she lets out a frustrated, angry little noise that almost makes me laugh in her face. This is the leader of the Tyrants? This immature woman who is just seconds away from throwing a full-blown tantrum?
Jesus, no wonder her people are coming crawling back to us.
“What is it with you?” she asks. “Why can’t you see reason for once instead of letting your pride get in the way?”
Stefan puts a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs it off angrily. “It’s that bitch, isn’t it?” she spits out. “Quinn. She’s the reason you won’t even consider what I’m offering. She’s poisoned you against me just like she poisoned everything else.”
The mention of Quinn’s name makes my blood run cold, and it takes everything I have not to step forward and shut her mouth myself.
“You know what I don’t understand?” Zoey continues, seemingly oblivious to the hole she’s digging for herself with every word out of her mouth. “What does she have that I don’t? What makes her so special that you’d throw everything away for her? Your club, your brothers?—”
“That’s. Enough .” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize I’ve spoken. Everyone turns to look at me, but I don’t give a shit. I’m done listening to her trash Quinn.
“You want to know what Quinn has that you don’t?” I take a step forward, and Nico doesn’t stop me. “Loyalty. Honor. Fucking integrity. She stood by her people when they needed her most.”
Zoey’s eyes widen, but I’m just getting started.
“When her tattoo shop was burning to the ground, she ran back inside to save her people. While you were busy stabbing your brothers in the back, she was dodging bullets and taking literal fucking knives to the gut for hers.” I’m getting louder, but I can’t seem to pull it back in. And I’m honestly not trying too hard to check myself. “She sacrificed everything to protect what’s hers. What would you sacrifice, Zoey? Besides everyone around you?”
She flinches at that one, and angry reddish-purple splotches start creeping up her neck to her cheeks.
“Quinn Kent is twice the leader you could ever hope to be. And she’s ten times the woman.” I jab a finger in her direction. “So keep her name out of your mouth. You’re not worthy to even speak it.”
There’s another round of excruciating, deafening silence. Zoey looks truly deflated, like someone punched all the air out of her. She stares at me for a long moment, then turns to Stefan and the others.
“Let’s go,” she mutters, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Her little crew follows her back to their bikes with their tails between their legs.
Not a single one of them glances back in our direction.
Nico claps me on the shoulder as we watch them leave. “Well put, brother. Do you feel better now?”
I shrug, the anger draining out of me and leaving nothing but an aching emptiness that always comes when I think about Quinn. “Someone had to say it.”
“I think she finally got the message,” Killian says with a rare hint of approval.
We climb back into the SUV and I stare out the window as Nico drives us away from the meeting spot. The rush of putting Zoey in her place is fading fast, leaving me feeling almost empty inside.
It’s fucking pathetic how much I miss her. Like I’m missing an arm or a leg, walking around with an open wound that won’t heal. The brief update from Nico about seeing her was like a life vest when I was drowning, but now I’m starting to sink again.
“Do you think Zoey will try something after that shit show?” Killian asks from the back seat.
“I doubt it,” Nico says, checking the rearview mirror. “She barely has enough support to keep the Tyrants together, let alone come after us.”
I grunt in agreement, but my mind is still with Quinn. I wish I’d been the one to see her in that bar. I wish I could’ve been there to touch her, to fuck her and remind her who she belongs to.
We’re almost back to the safe house when Hudson, one of the newly rejoined Carnage members, pulls his bike alongside our SUV and signals for Nico to stop.
Nico pulls into the gas station on the corner, and we exchange a curious look as Hudson parks his bike and jogs up to Nico’s window.
“What’s up?” Nico asks.
Hudson glances around before leaning in closer. “I didn’t want to say anything back there with so many ears listening in, but I’ve been in touch with some of Quinn’s old crew from Enigma.”
The three of us straighten up immediately. “What?”
“Yeah. They’ve been lying low since everything went to shit, but they’re still loyal to her. They want to help.”
The news hits me like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. Quinn told Malcolm she wanted to rebuild Enigma as an excuse to get out of his house, but maybe it wasn’t just a lie. Maybe her people really are still out there waiting for her.
“That could be useful,” Killian says in the understatement of the fucking year.
Nico nods. “Tell your contact to keep his people ready, but don’t make any moves yet. We need to coordinate with Quinn before anything happens.”
“Will do,” Hudson agrees, heading back to his bike.
As we pull away, I feel something I haven’t felt in too fucking long.
Hope. Real, genuine hope.
The alliance between our gangs started out so fucking rocky that it might as well have been a joke at first. But it took hold because of Quinn.
And now we’re hopefully one step closer to bringing her home.