Chapter 25
S he could go to hell, Quinn decided as he sat there, determined to ignore the small woman sitting across the bar from him.
He didn’t fucking need her.
Never did.
This was just a deal, and now, it was over.
It was as simple as that.
He had B.T. Construction and she had Blackwood Manor. They both had everything they’d ever wanted. They would co-parent their baby, live their own lives, and move on like nothing ever happened.
As soon as Blackwood Manor was done, he would focus back on B.T. Construction and Dylan…
She could go to hell.
He didn’t need her and he sure as hell wasn’t going to miss her.
Not even a little fucking bit. He wouldn’t miss the way she teased him, the way she sighed his name just before he kissed her, the way that she touched him, or the way that she curled up in his arms at night like it was exactly where she needed to be, Quinn decided as he sat there, doing to his best to ignore the little pain in the ass glare at him and-
Watched as the little brat gave up glaring at him so that she could glare down at her phone as she angrily typed something before glaring back at him seconds before his phone chimed. Sighing heavily, Quinn picked up his phone and-
You’re an asshole.
Since he already knew that, he didn’t bother responding as he finished off his beer and gestured to the bartender to give him another one. He-
Fucking sighed when another chime drew his attention back down to his phone and-
You owe me an explanation.
“Thanks,” Quinn said when the bartender placed a fresh beer in front of him. Picking it up, he took a sip and focused on the highlight reels from yesterday’s game.
“Start talking,” Dylan demanded as she tried to climb onto the bar stool next to him only to grumble, glare, and release a satisfied sigh when she finally managed to climb onto the stool.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Quinn said, not bothering to look at her as he sat there, wondering how long it would be before he stopped feeling numb.
“You don’t get to tell me that you love me and leave me through a note,” Dylan said, dropping the note he’d left behind on the bar. “I would say there was plenty to talk about.”
He considered ignoring her, but he was curious about one thing…
“How did you find me?” he asked, since neither one of them had ever been at this bar before.
“Your phone,” Dylan said, gesturing to the phone in front of him. “Brooke had location trackers put on all B.T. Construction phones years ago.”
“Good to know,” Quinn said, picking up his phone and turned it off before he stood up and reached over the bar to toss it in the trash.
“That’s so sad that you think that will stop me,” Dylan said, blinking at him only to frown when he said, “Brooke,” deciding to put an end to this bullshit so that she would stop trying to play this game.
“What about her?” Dylan asked, shifting to get more comfortable.
“She told me everything,” he said, not bothering to look at her as he finished his beer and-
“She told you that she was possessed by a demon?” Dylan asked, looking really fucking hopeful and making his lips despite everything.
“The other thing,” Quinn bit out.
“What other thing?” she asked as she helped herself to the bowl of nuts in front of her.
“The deal you had with her,” Quinn said evenly, watching as Dylan slowly nodded as she thought that over.
“I already told you about that,” Dylan pointed out.
“You didn’t tell me about the other deal you made with her,” he said, watching her frown in confusion.
“There was only one deal and it ended the moment that she tried screwing me over,” Dylan said, shrugging it off and pissing him off.
“She knew about everything, Dylan, and I mean fucking everything, from our deal to the reason why. She knew almost word for word every reason I gave why the condos were a bad idea. She knew that we got married, when we found out that you were pregnant, absolutely fucking everything,” he bit out, watching as her frown deepened, but he wasn’t done.
Far from it.
“You lied to me from the beginning. She was never fucking engaged and there were never any condos. She wouldn’t help you, so you decided to play me and when you realized that you were out of your league with Blackwood Manor, you decided to start selling your designs online. You-”
“I want a divorce,” Dylan said, cutting him off as her words hit him like a physical blow.
He opened his mouth only to end up glaring when the little brat slapped her hand over his mouth and whispered, “She’s listening.”
Frowning, Quinn followed her gaze to the trash can behind the bar. Pressing her lips to her lips, Dylan climbed off the stool and-
Stumbled over her own two feet before making her way around the bar with a grumble.
Once she was there, she cleared her throat and gestured for the bartender that looked really fucking confused to move out of the way with a politely murmured, “Excuse me,” made her way over to the trash can, grabbed his phone, pressed her fingers against her lips as she met his glare, and quickly made her way back.
That was followed by a two-minute struggle to climb back onto the stool until he took pity on her and helped her up.
Once she was there, she turned his phone on and handed it to him.
Biting back a sigh, he typed in his passcode only to have the little pain in the ass snatch it out of his hand and opened his settings.
He watched as she went through his controls, pausing to look through the apps that had microphone access only to frown when she came to the last one that was set to active.
System Service
He watched as she removed access from the app before moving onto video access to find the app there as well.
When she was done, she went to the app screen, found the app and deleted it before handing the phone to him and focused on her phone only to find the app there as well.
Once she removed it from her phone, she opened a bank app and placed it in front of him as the realization of what happened slammed into him.
Brooke had been listening this whole time.
“What’s this?” he asked, only to go still when he saw his name on the account.
“The money that I earned from selling my designs. I was saving to pay you back for Blackwood Manor,” Dylan said, shrugging it off. “I’m not interested in B.T. Construction. Never was. But I couldn’t stand by and watch her destroy it and for what it’s worth, I never lied to you.”
“What else?” Quinn asked, hollowly as he sat there, praying that he’d been wrong. He-
“You’re an asshole,” Dylan said with a firm nod as something else occurred to him, something that had him going still as he looked at her and-
She loved him and he just ruined everything.
Or did he…
“Do you still love me?” Quinn asked, watching as the little stubborn pain in the ass folded her arms over her chest and pointedly looked away.
“Maybe,” she muttered, making him smile until she added, “But I love Big Bertha more.”
“I see,” Quinn murmured, only to follow that up with a heartfelt sigh. “You know what I have to do now, right?”
“Grovel?” Dylan asked, still not looking at him, but that was fine since it would give him the element of surprise.
“Probably,” he said, tossing a twenty on the bar as he climbed off his stool. “It would probably be better if you ran.”
“What?” Dylan asked, frowning as she glanced back at him and-
“Run.”
“But-”
“Run,” Quinn said, rolling his shoulders as he mentally prepared himself for what was to come as he watched the moment when she realized what was happening.
That was the moment when she panicked.
“We’re already married,” Dylan said, licking her lips nervously as she moved to climb off the bar and-
“Stupid exit.”
-stumbled before she could right herself.
“Run,” Quinn said again, wondering why she wasn’t making a run for it since she knew better than most how this had to play out.
When she opened her mouth, most likely to remind him that they were already married, he said, “Tradition.”
“I see,” Dylan mumbled as her gaze flickered to the door and-
“Wait! You didn’t give me a chance to run!”
-decided that he’d waited long enough.