Me: Do you still have those trophies?
Sadie: Yes…
I look away from the screen, the trembling phone too much of a confirmation of what I’m about to do.
What you have to ask yourself is this: would you do it again?
When you find the answer to that question, seek me out.
The Alpha’s words assault my mind, until I have no choice. I grab my laptop from my bag and pull up my darknet login. I locate A_King’s contact and send a message before I second-guess myself.
Quinn has known all this time that there was another way to contact the Alpha. He’s simply smart enough never to voice it. Saying it aloud makes it a plausible tactic. One that he refuses to employ for my sake.
I dress quickly, jeans and a sweater, every second becoming clearer, an end in sight. I could claim my urgency is based on concern for the victims. The women Wells may have abducted. Those who the Alpha may still have alive. I could—but I’m not that heroic.
Sadie and Quinn are heroes, each in their own way. Each working tirelessly and selflessly to save lives with no casualties. It’s an impossible feat, but heroes don’t admit defeat. They strive until it kills them. They sacrifice.
Me, I am selfish. I want those women to be alive, to be rescued…but I won’t risk Quinn’s life for them. Does that make me a monster? I’ve been conditioned by monsters, fashioned by torture and fear. The Alpha didn’t brand me; he didn’t need to. I wear the scars he recognizes—my own personal brands of pain that he knows how to manipulate.
“I’ve given Carson instructions on Paulson,” Quinn says as he enters the room, bringing me out of my dark thoughts. “If Aubrey shows up at the lab, let me know right away.”
I nod, not asking what those instructions are. They don’t matter. If Aubrey is the one we should fear, I’ll soon know.
Quinn’s hands are on me then. Tender with firm conviction. He palms my face, brings my gaze to his. “Trust me.”
My eyes seal closed. Trusting him has never been an issue. From the moment he first took my hand in the hospital, to his hold on me now, he’s done nothing but prove that trust. In spite of himself, his career, and even his life.
He overlooked a glaring certainty: he, too, is a loose end to the Alpha. Quinn is the man who knows the truth.
If the Alpha is eradicating all threats, Quinn may be the biggest threat of all.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say as I open my eyes. “Be safe.”
He kisses my forehead. “Always.”
He leaves, and Carson appears in the doorway. “Ready?”
I nod my conviction. “Yes.”
12
Narcissistic Tendencies
Quinn
What a fucking shit storm.
“You think you could invite more idiots to trample my crime scene?” This is directed toward Special Agent Rollins, who’s suited up in a Tyvek suit, booties to boot.
He should’ve been securing the scene rather than worried about damn transfer. It’s a fucking club—literally. So much scuzzy DNA to weed through, it’s wasted effort to try to limit contamination.
“It’s an open scene,” I say as I barricade the front door with a stool. “Been a while since you’ve been in the field, I guess.”
Rollins kicks out of the plastic suit, the swish of his harried movements adding a comedic element to the dark backdrop of the scene. Red and blues flash against the front of the building. Gawkers crane their necks to get a glimpse inside the club.
“Ironically enough—” he drops the suit into an evidence bag and tosses it to a tech “—I’m only ever in the field when I’m in your neck of the woods. Arlington used to be a quiet city before you became lead detective.”
I can’t argue with that. “Try to keep up.”