Crown of Lies (Pretty Ruthless Monsters #2)

15. Quinn

15

QUINN

My post-orgasmic haze evaporates in an instant when I see Emmett’s wide eyes staring at us. His gaze is fixed on the place where Atlas is still buried deep inside me. I freeze, a jolt of embarrassment and guilt coursing through my body.

“Shit,” I mutter, pulling away from Atlas. I feel his cum sliding out of me, a sticky reminder of what we’ve just done. I reach down, trying to surreptitiously wipe it away, but it’s too late. Emmett has already seen.

“I—” Emmett begins, his voice cracking. He looks torn between anger and disbelief.

I push past Atlas, not wanting to face him right now. “I know,” I say, cutting Emmett off. “I know, okay? Just—give me a second.”

I turn away, wrapping my arms around myself. I can feel Atlas’s eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. What were we thinking, doing this here? Of course, we were going to get caught.

“Quinn—” Atlas starts, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

“Just give me a minute,” I say, my voice shaken. “I need to?—”

I don’t know what I need to do. All I know is that I can’t stand here, facing them both, with Atlas’s cum still dripping down my thighs.

I scramble to pull my clothes on, hissing when my shirt touches my freshly-inked skin. Jesus, we didn’t even put a bandage on it before we started fucking. I have bigger problems to deal with at the moment though.

And it sure as hell doesn’t help that my rough, desperate fuck with Atlas has left me feeling exposed and vulnerable—not just physically, but emotionally too. Letting him tattoo my skin with his mark, letting him inside me both literally and metaphorically? Those were all stupid, irresponsible choices. And now, with Emmett here, I feel naked in more ways than one.

Emmett’s eyes burn into me as he zips up his jacket. I can see the disappointment and anger radiating off him in waves. He doesn’t say a word, just turns and walks out of the tattoo parlor, leaving me standing there with Atlas.

I finish dressing, doing my best to school my features. Still, my trembling hands keep betraying me. I feel raw and exposed, like my secrets are written all over my skin. I run a hand through my hair, trying one more time to compose myself, and then I turn and hurry after Emmett.

He’s already halfway down the block, his long strides eating up the pavement. I call out to him, but he doesn’t slow down.

“Emmett, wait!” I yell, breaking into a run.

He finally stops, whirling around to face me. His eyes are blazing, his jaw clenched tight.

“What the fuck, Quinn?” he spits out. “What the actual fuck?”

The anger in his eyes is palpable, and I can see the distrust lurking beneath it.

“Emmett, I—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Do you have any idea what you’re risking?” he hisses, taking a step closer. “This isn’t just about you, Quinn. It’s about all of us. The whole gang.”

I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders. “I know, I?—”

“No, you don’t know,” he snaps. “If Nico finds out that you’re cheating on him with one of his seconds in command, we’re all fucked. You’re putting everything we’ve worked for in jeopardy.”

His words sting, and he makes a good point about the gang—even if he doesn’t exactly have all the facts as far as Nico is concerned. But there’s something else, an edge to his voice that’s unfamiliar, almost as if his anger is coming from a place of wounded pride rather than concern for our organization.

“The alliance isn’t in danger,” I insist. “You’ll just have to trust me on that.”

“Trust you?” Emmett’s jaw clenches. “Did you tell Nico to trust you before you threw yourself at Atlas?”

The accusation hits me hard. There’s no way I’d let Emmett—or any other member of my gang, for that matter—talk to me like this under normal circumstances. But nothing about what I’m doing here is normal. “It’s not like that, and?—”

“Oh yeah?” Emmett interrupts again, his voice dripping with the kind of venom I’m only used to hearing from people outside the gang. “What’s it like then?”

I grimace, my stomach churning. I don’t want to admit the reality of the situation to him, but I feel backed into a corner. Maybe if he knows the truth, or at least the partial truth, he’ll understand that I’m really not about to blow up our deal with the Princes.

“The Princes… Nico, Killian, and Atlas… they’ve shared me,” I say, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Emmett’s eyes widen, shock replacing the anger on his face. He takes a step back, as if my words have physically pushed him away.

“What?” he whispers, making me cringe just as much as if he’d yelled.

I watch as his expression hardens, his initial shock morphing into something colder, more guarded.

“I don’t like any of this, Quinn,” he says, his voice low and tight. “Not one bit.”

I open my mouth to try to explain myself a little better, but he holds up a hand and shakes his head.

“That story about Silas? I don’t buy it,” he continues. “Something isn’t adding up here. I don’t know if they’re keeping something from you, or what, but this whole situation stinks.”

I know how bad it has to look from the outside, and it doesn’t help that I’ve been caught out and I’m struggling to defend myself. I want to explain that I know what I’m doing, but the doubt in his eyes makes me hesitate.

“I’ve always thought this alliance was a bad idea,” Emmett presses on, his voice rising. “And now you’re fucking all three of the men who were once our enemies? How the hell is that not going to cloud your judgment?”

He’s not wrong. Not completely, anyway. This situation is complicated, and I can’t deny that my feelings were definitely tangled up in it all at one point not too long ago.

But things have changed since then, and I don’t have the time, the patience, or the bandwidth to try to explain it all in the kind of detail that he’s clearly going to need.

Instead, I pull rank.

I straighten my spine, squaring my shoulders as I meet Emmett’s accusatory glare. A surge of anger rises in me, hot and fierce. Who the hell does he think he is?

“That’s enough,” I snap, my voice as sharp as the crack of a whip. “You’re way out of line, Emmett.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a raised hand of my own.

“No. You don’t get to question me like this. I’m your leader, not some young blood you can push around.”

Emmett’s eyes widen, as if he’s taken aback by my sudden shift in demeanor.

“But Quinn?—”

“But nothing,” I interrupt, taking a step closer. “You seem to have forgotten who’s in charge here. Let me remind you: it’s me. I make the decisions for this gang, and I don’t answer to you or anyone else.”

I can see the protest forming on his lips, but I press on, my voice low and dangerous.

“I’ve led us through worse shit than this, Emmett. I know what I’m doing, and I hope you’ll trust me, but I sure as hell don’t need your stamp of approval.”

He flinches at my words, finally seeming to realize he’s crossed a line.

“You don’t have to like my methods,” I continue, “but you’d damn well better respect them. And more importantly, you’d better respect me.”

Emmett’s shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him. He looks away as if unable to meet my gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to?—”

“I don’t care what you meant,” I say coolly. “What matters is what you did. And right now, you’re questioning my leadership. That stops now.”

He nods, looking properly chastised. “It won’t happen again,” he says, his voice more steady this time.

I blow out a breath, feeling some of the tension ease from my body now that he’s backed off.

“Look, I get it,” I say, softening my tone. “This… isn’t exactly something I expected either. But you have to understand—things change. Plans never go exactly the way you expect them to.”

Emmett’s eyes are still downcast, but he nods slightly, encouraging me to go on.

“My dad always used to say that the only constant in life is change,” I continue. “No matter how much you plan, you’ve got to be ready to adapt. That’s what I’m doing. It’s what I’ve always done.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say next. “Since the moment I agreed to ally with the Princes, nothing has gone the way I expected. But that’s my job, Emmett. To make the best decisions I can with the hand I’m dealt.”

I glance at him from the corner of my eye, gauging his reaction. He’s listening, his features schooled into a careful neutrality.

“I’m doing what’s best for Enigma, even if it doesn’t seem like it,” I go on. “Even if it’s messy and complicated. I’m making these calls because I have to. Because it’s my job.”

I let out a shallow breath, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders as the words spill out. It’s the truth—a truth I’ve been carrying alone for too long.

“I’m trying to navigate this, just like you,” I add, my voice quiet now. “I’m trying to do right by everyone, but it’s not easy. Plans change, and I have to change with them.”

Emmett’s shoulders slump as he processes my words. The anger in his eyes has faded, replaced by a mixture of concern and resignation.

“I hear you,” he says slowly. “I don’t like it, but… I trust you. Just be careful, okay?”

“I always am.”

He gives me one last long look before turning away. I watch as he walks down the street, his steps heavy and slow. When he reaches the corner, he pauses for a moment, as if debating whether to look back. But he doesn’t. He rounds the corner and disappears from sight.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, my shoulders sagging. The adrenaline from our confrontation begins to ebb, leaving me feeling drained and uncertain.

Despite the conviction in my words to Emmett, doubt starts to creep in. Am I really doing the right thing? Or am I about to make the same mistake I made when I first agreed to this alliance?

Can I ever truly trust these men? The Princes were our enemies not so long ago. Now I’m in bed with them, literally and figuratively. I’ve let them mark me, claim me, share me.

But for what? To keep the peace? To protect my people?

I force those thoughts out of my mind as I walk back to the tattoo parlor. I can’t keep second-guessing my actions. Not now.

When I push open the door, Atlas is still inside, tidying up the station where he inked me. His head snaps up when he hears the door, his eyes meeting mine. As soon as our gazes lock, every sensation that got pushed to the side at the shock of being discovered by Emmett comes flooding back. The feel of him inside me, the way he touched me, the way he made me beg—it’s all still fresh. Jesus, I can even still feel the sticky wetness between my thighs.

My jaw tightens as I do my best to ignore the phantom feeling of his hands all over my body.

I have to harden my heart. I can’t afford to get caught up in the memories. Not when I’m this close to him, when the scent of him fills my lungs, when his eyes are on me.

I paste on a neutral expression, holding my ground as I meet his gaze.

“Emmett’s not going to say anything,” I announce, my voice carefully controlled. “He won’t tell anyone what he saw tonight. I made sure of it.”

Atlas raises an eyebrow, his eyes searching mine as if looking for cracks in my mask. “What did you tell him?”

“It’s handled,” I say, although it’s not really an answer to his question. “He won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. There won’t be any questions, no rumors, nothing.”

Atlas opens his mouth, a muscle in his jaw working as he seems to debate his next words. I continue before he can, addressing the elephant in the room.

“As for the tattoo…” I gesture toward my ribs, now covered by my shirt. “I’ll keep it covered. No one will see it.”

A shadow passes over his face, and he presses his lips together, his jaw hardening.

I keep my expression closed off, determined to maintain my distance, even as every inch of my skin still throbs with the memory of his touch.

“We should go,” I say, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “It’s getting late.”

Atlas nods, his face a mask of indifference. He grabs his jacket from the back of a chair and shrugs it on, his movements stiff and mechanical.

We step out into the cool night air, the silence between us heavy and oppressive. It feels like we’re miles apart, even though we’re walking side by side down the empty street.

And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if I want to try.