Crown of Lies (Pretty Ruthless Monsters #2)

39. Nico

39

NICO

It’s in the darkness that the ghosts of my past come to haunt me. I knew that falling asleep would mean opening myself up to the memories, but tonight I’m helpless to stop it.

In my dream I’m a kid again, just a teenager. They’ve taken me, using me as leverage against my old man. I’m scared, alone, and angry. I know my old man’s not gonna give in easily, and I’m not sure how long I can hold out.

So, I fight. I bite, kick, and scratch my way to freedom. It’s not easy, and I take a few hits, but I manage to get away. I run through the night, my heart pounding, each sharp breath stabbing my lungs. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I can’t stop. I have to keep moving.

As I run, the city streets blur around me, the buildings and alleys of my childhood streaking by. Then it hits me that something has changed. I’m older now, and fresh from another fight with my old man. Still angry and hurting, I don’t go home. Instead, my feet take me to the clubhouse, the one place I know I’ll be safe.

The door of the clubhouse swings open, and I step inside, the familiar sights and smells washing over me. I pause, taking in the empty room, the scattered chairs and tables, and the faded graffiti on the walls. A weight lifts from my shoulders as I realize I really am safe here.

I blink, and suddenly the clubhouse isn’t empty anymore. My heart races as I take in the scene in front of me. Quinn is here, but she’s not free. She’s tied to a chair, her eyes wide with fear and desperation. My people, the ones I trusted, are holding her captive.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand, my voice raw with anger and confusion.

Killian and Atlas burst through the door behind me, concern etched on their faces.

“Nico, we heard something was wrong,” Killian says, his hand on my shoulder.

Atlas nods, his eyes darting around the room. “We’re here to help, brother.”

I feel a surge of gratitude, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the urgency of the situation. We need to get Quinn out of here.

“Let her go!” I shout, taking a step forward.

But the Princes of Carnage—my people—don’t back down. Instead, they draw their weapons.

“Sorry, Nico. Can’t do that,” one of them says, his voice cold and unfamiliar.

Everything happens fast after that. Killian and Atlas spring into action, trying to clear a path to Quinn. I’m right behind them, my fists flying, desperate to reach her.

But we’re outnumbered. Outmatched. I watch in horror as Killian takes a hit and goes down. Atlas roars with rage, charging forward, but he’s overwhelmed too.

“No!” I scream, fighting harder, but it’s not enough.

Suddenly, I smell smoke. Panic grips me as I realize the clubhouse is on fire. The flames spread quickly, engulfing everything in their path.

“Quinn!” I yell, pushing through the chaos, ignoring the heat and the smoke.

I can see her now, still tied to the chair, the flames getting closer. Her eyes meet mine, filled with terror and something else… resignation?

No. Fuck no. She’s not going to die like this. None of us are.

I’m almost there, just a few more steps. But the fire is faster. It reaches her before I can, and I’m forced back by the intense heat.

“Quinn!” I scream again, but it’s too late. The flames have taken her, and there’s nothing I can do.

I jerk awake with a strangled shout, my heart pounding in my chest. I’m sweaty and momentarily disoriented, the nightmare still clinging to the edges of my consciousness. My eyes dart around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings before I remember I’m in Quinn’s house, in the room that’s become mine.

As my breathing starts to slow, I become aware of a warm presence next to me. Quinn. The memory of her crawling into bed after we all finally made it home last night flickers through my mind.

I tighten my hold on her, pulling her closer. The dream flashes through my mind—the fire, the clubhouse, Quinn tied to that chair. My jaw clenches as I try to push the images away, but they’re sticking around just to taunt me tonight.

My emotions are raging out of control, a chaotic mix of fear, anger, and an overwhelming need to protect. I’m furious at my subconscious for conjuring such a horrific scenario, angry at myself for not being able to save her even in my fucking dreams.

My entire body tenses with the effort of holding it all in. I don’t want to wake Quinn, don’t want her to see me like this, so damn raw and vulnerable. But the nightmare has shaken me to my core, leaving me feeling exposed and on edge.

I focus on Quinn’s steady breathing, trying to match my own to hers. She’s here, she’s safe. We all made it out of the chaos at the clubhouse earlier tonight. But the fear lingers, a cold knot in my stomach that refuses to unwind.

My fingers trace light patterns on her arm, needing the physical reassurance that she’s really here. The dream felt so real, the heat of the flames, the desperation in Quinn’s eyes.

I’m jolted from my spiraling thoughts as Quinn stirs beside me. She turns her head, her sleepy eyes meeting mine in the dim light.

“You were muttering in your sleep,” she murmurs, her voice thick with concern. “Nightmare?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. The images from the dream flash through my mind again, and I clench my jaw, trying to keep it all contained.

Quinn shifts, propping herself up on one elbow. Her gaze is steady, searching my face. “I can see you’re trying to hold it all in, Nico. Everything that happened tonight… it’s a lot. It would be a lot for anyone.”

I look away, unable to meet her eyes. The emotions are threatening to overtake me—grief, anger, fear—all battling for dominance.

“Hey,” Quinn says softly, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. She gently turns my face back to hers. “Take it out on me.”

I blink. “What?”

“Fuck your emotions out,” she says, simply and quietly and completely serious. “Whatever you need to let out, I can take it.”

I hold her gaze, my emotions churning even harder as I see the trust in her eyes. She means it. She’ll let me do anything. The realization hits me—she wants it, and she really can take whatever I do to her.

It’s almost instinctual—the primal urge to take, to claim, to exert my will over hers, and to show her just how much I need this. My desire for her is raw and animalistic now, fueled by the nightmare and the chaos of the night. I want to possess her, to make her mine in the most basic, instinctual way. I need her to feel it all, to understand what she does to me, and what I’ll do to protect her.

Before I can second-guess myself, I roll her onto her stomach, pulling her up onto her knees. The position is stark and primal, exposing her in a way that triggers every protective and possessive instinct in my body. I can’t stop myself from claiming her like this, marking her as mine.

I press myself against her, trapping her hands above her head against the mattress. She makes a soft sound of surprise, but it quickly turns into a moan as I thrust against her, letting her feel every inch of my cock inside her.

“Fuck yes,” I growl, thrusting as hard and deep as I can. “Fucking take it. Gonna fill that tight pussy.”

“Yes. God, yes.” Her breath quickens, and she arches her back, pressing against me, encouraging me. “Give it to me. Fucking give me all of it.”

My mouth finds her neck, and I bite down, marking her with my teeth. She gasps, and I feel her shiver beneath me. I can’t stop myself from growling, the sound rumbling in my chest as I claim her with my mouth, my teeth, and my cock. She’s mine, and I want her to know it, to feel it in the deepest, most intimate way possible.

I drag my open mouth down her spine, biting and tasting her, marking a path to the curve of her ass. I grip her hips and pull her back onto me, wanting her to take every inch.

“Yeah, you fucking like it, don’t you?” I grit out, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. “Gonna fuck you so hard, so deep.”

She cries out, her voice breathless and desperate. “Yes, please. Harder.”

I groan, my control fraying as I thrust into her, over and over, driven by the need to claim and possess. “Yeah? You like it when I take what’s mine? Tell me. Say it.”

“Yes!” she cries, her head thrown back, her body shaking. “It’s yours, all yours. Please, more.”

Releasing her wrists, I grasp her hips and flip her over. She lands on her back, her legs falling open, and I lunge back into her, our bodies slamming together. She’s so wet and ready, taking me deep.

“You feel that?” I growl, my eyes locked on hers. “You feel how deep I’m in you?”

She bites her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as I move in and out of her. “Yes, please don’t stop.”

I reach down, wrapping my hand around her throat, applying just enough pressure to let her know I’m in control. She makes a soft sound, her eyes flying open, meeting mine.

I lean in, my lips brushing hers as I thrust into her. “Come for me, mia cara,” I murmur against her mouth. “Let me feel it.”

She shudders, her walls clenching around me as she obeys. “Nico!” she cries out, arching beneath me.

I let go of her throat, my hand moving down to her hip as I thrust through her orgasm, wanting to draw out her pleasure. “That’s it, just let go. Feel me inside you.”

Her mouth drops open as the climax rolls through her, seeming to go on forever, and my self-restraint finally snaps. I drive into her hard and fast, my balls drawing up tight. As the last shudder of her orgasm wracks her body, I come inside her, spilling my release into her tight pussy.

We’re both breathing hard in the aftermath, and our gazes meet as the tension in our bodies starts to drain away. Her tears start to fall then—a mix of the raw, intense pleasure and the catharsis of the last few days. It shreds me inside to see them, but I know this is what she needs. It’s what we both need.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” I whisper, brushing her tears away with my thumbs. “Let it all out. You’re safe with me.”

She drags in a shuddering breath, a soft smile curving her lips as she reaches up to touch my face.

“I know,” she says softly, her eyes shining with a mix of emotions. “I trust you. With everything.”

I hold her gaze, my thumb brushing her cheek as I try to convey everything I can’t say with words. “I won’t let you fall, mia cara. I’ll catch you every time.”

She leans into my touch, her hand coming up to cover mine, pressing my palm tighter against her cheek. “I know you will. We’ll catch each other.”

I hold her close for a few more moments, savoring the connection between us. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, I pull out slowly, then roll off her and sit up on the edge of the bed.

“We should probably get cleaned up,” I say, running a hand through my hair.

Quinn nods, her eyes still soft with afterglow. “Yeah, you’re right.”

I head to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with warm water. When I return, I gently clean Quinn before taking care of myself. Once we’re both sorted, I pull on a fresh pair of pants and a t-shirt.

“I’m gonna head downstairs for a bit,” I tell her. “You good here?”

She smiles, nestling into the pillows. “Mm-hm. Think I might nap for a while.”

I lean down to kiss her forehead before making my way out of the room and down the stairs. In the living room, I find Killian and Atlas lounging on the couch, beers in hand.

I’m not even sure what time it is, but it’s past morning. Even if it wasn’t, a beer sounds fucking amazing right now.

“Hey,” Atlas says, raising his bottle in greeting.

I nod, grabbing a beer for myself before slumping into an armchair. The weight of everything that’s happened settles on my shoulders, and I can’t help but voice my doubts.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” I say, staring at the bottle in my hands. “Agreeing to work for The Saint, getting us all mixed up in this shit…”

Killian sets his beer down, his expression serious. “Don’t do that, Nico.”

I look up, surprised by the intensity in his voice. Killian’s not usually one for many words, but he leans forward, his gaze steady.

“You can’t second-guess what happened in the past,” he says. “All you can do is keep your eyes on what’s ahead.”

Atlas nods in agreement, but stays quiet, letting Killian speak.

“After my mom died,” Killian continues, his voice low, “I didn’t trust anyone. Probably would’ve ended up dead myself if I hadn’t met you two. Surviving this life alone… it’s a hell of a lot harder.”

He takes a swig of his beer before meeting my eyes again. “As long as we’ve got each other, we’ll be okay. That’s what matters now.”

I nod, taking in Killian’s words. Atlas leans forward, his eyes serious.

“He’s right,” Atlas says. “I saw firsthand what happens when you can’t trust the people around you.”

He takes a long pull from his beer before continuing. “When my old man was killed by one of his own crew… that moment, I knew. If that same bastard came for me, not a single one of them would have my back.”

Atlas’s gaze moves between Killian and me. “But last night? I knew I could trust you two. No question.”

His words hit me hard, reminding me of everything we’ve been through together.

“Nico,” Atlas says, catching my eye. “You did the best you could to control the fallout. That’s all any of us can do.”

I nod, accepting their words. A familiar phrase rises to my lips, one we’ve shared countless times since we were just kids scraping by on the streets.

“Born strangers,” I start.

“Brothers by choice,” Killian and Atlas finish in unison.

It’s been our mantra since those early days when all we had was each other. No matter what comes our way, I know we’ll face it together.

As I’m absorbing the weight of their words, I hear soft footsteps on the stairs. Quinn appears in the doorway, her eyes shining with emotion. It’s clear she overheard our conversation.

She pads into the room, barefoot and wearing one of my oversized t-shirts. Her hair’s still mussed from earlier, but there’s a softness to her expression that tugs at my heart.

“Hey,” she says, her voice quiet.

Atlas and Killian both nod in greeting, but I can see the shift in their posture. We’re all aware of what happened last night, of the danger we faced together.

Quinn moves farther into the room, her gaze flicking between Atlas and Killian. “I… I wanted to thank you both. For having my back last night. For everything.”

Killian’s expression softens, a rare occurrence for him. “You’re one of us now, siren. It wasn’t even a question.”

Atlas nods in agreement. “Yeah, what he said. You’re ours now, whether you like it or not.”

She moves to Killian first, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. He stiffens for a moment before relaxing, patting her back awkwardly.

When she pulls away, she turns to Atlas. He stands, opening his arms with a grin. Quinn hugs him too, and I can see the genuine affection in Atlas’s eyes as he embraces her.

“Thank you,” she says, stepping back to look at both of them. “I… I’ve never had people like this before. People I could trust. Not outside Enigma, anyway.”

She settles onto the arm of my chair, her presence a comforting warmth against my side. The room falls into a comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

Suddenly, Quinn’s phone buzzes. She reaches for it, frowning at the screen before answering.

“Yeah?” Her brow furrows as she listens. After a moment, she presses the speaker button.

“…don’t know what to do with them, Quinn,” a male voice crackles through. “They say they’re not here to cause trouble, but?—”

“Slow down, Emmett,” she interrupts. “Who are you talking about?”

“Carnage members,” he replies. “We caught about half a dozen of them sneaking into our territory. They’re saying they don’t want any trouble, but we’re not sure whether to trust them.”

Quinn’s eyes meet mine, a silent question in her gaze. I nod, understanding passing between us.

“Bring them here,” she says into the phone. “To my place.”

“You sure?” he sounds understandably hesitant.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she confirms. “We’ll deal with it.”

She ends the call and looks around at all of us. “Well, looks like we’ve got company coming.”

Atlas leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You think they’re telling the truth?”

I shrug. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

The wait isn’t long. Within twenty minutes, there’s a knock at the door. Quinn answers it, and I hear muffled voices before she leads a group into the living room.

Six people file in, their hands raised slightly to show they’re unarmed. Behind them, I spot two of Quinn’s gang members, eyes sharp and wary.

One of the Carnage members, a woman with close-cropped hair, steps forward. Her gaze locks on to me, then flicks to Killian and Atlas.

“We’re here because of you three,” she says, her voice steady. “We don’t agree with what happened, with you being cut out.”

I stand slowly, studying each face. Some I recruited myself, others are still familiar, but less so. They all wear the same expression—part determination, part uncertainty.

I feel my chest tighten with emotion as I look at these familiar faces. These people chose me, trusted me, even when everything went to shit. It’s a powerful feeling, one I hadn’t expected.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice rough with sincerity. “It means a lot that you’re here.”

The woman who spoke nods. “We couldn’t just stand by and watch everything fall apart.”

“What happened after we left?” Quinn asks, her voice gentle but firm.

Another member, a guy with a scar across his cheek, steps forward. “It was chaos at first. No one knew what to do. Then Zoey and Stefan started taking charge.”

My brow furrows. “Stefan? He’s never shown interest in leading before.”

The first woman shakes her head. “He’s not. It’s all Zoey. She’s basically pulling his strings, telling him what to say and do.”

Atlas’s jaw clenches, his eyes flashing with anger. “Zoey’s behind all this?”

The scarred man nods. “Yeah, she’s been egging Stefan on, whispering in his ear. It’s like she’s using him as a puppet to take control.”

I can see the rage building in Atlas. His fists are clenched at his sides, knuckles white with tension.

“This is all because she’s jealous?” Atlas spits out. “She tore everything apart because she couldn’t handle me moving on?”

The room falls silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I place a hand on Atlas’s shoulder, feeling the tension thrumming through him.

I watch as Quinn steps forward, compassion in her eyes as she scans the group of Carnage members.

“I know you’re taking a big risk coming here. But I want you to know that you have a place with us if you want it.”

The woman with the close-cropped hair furrows her brow. “You mean… join your gang?”

Quinn nods. “Exactly. We can offer you safe harbor, protection from whatever’s going down with Carnage right now.”

I can see the hesitation on some of their faces, the uncertainty. One of the younger members, a guy barely out of his teens, speaks up.

“But won’t we just be trading one dangerous situation for another? I mean, no offense, but we’ve heard about the threats against you.”

Quinn doesn’t flinch at the question. Instead, she meets the kid’s gaze head-on.

“You’re right,” she admits. “I can’t promise that everything will be smooth sailing. We’ve got our own challenges to face. But what I can promise is that we’ll have your backs. You won’t be alone in this.”

Her words seem to resonate with the group. I see nods of agreement, shoulders relaxing slightly.

“We may not have all the answers right now,” Quinn continues. “But we’re committed to protecting our own. And that includes anyone who chooses to stand with us.”

I step forward, placing my hand on Quinn’s shoulder. She turns to me, a silent conversation passing between us. I give her a slight nod, encouraging her to continue.

“The choice is yours,” she says, turning back to the group. “But know that if you decide to join us, we’ll do everything in our power to keep you safe.”

I squeeze her hand, a moment passing between us. The strength and leadership she’s showing… it’s incredible. In this moment, I’m not just proud of her—I’m in awe.