Viola
How did Jude find me? He still bares his teeth at me when I walk into the room. It’s obvious he doesn’t give a shit about me, so he’s not here to protect me from Dante. I bet he’s here under Lorcan’s orders, or to make sure I’m not switching sides.
To think, I drew blood in his name. I carved someone up just for him. I’d have done it anyway, but he doesn’t know that. Or maybe he does. These boys think as I do sometimes. It’s one of the reasons I feel drawn to seeing this game through. That, and I like games. As long as I get to be the one making the rules.
Because rules are important.
If you break them, you suffer.
My father taught me that one thing at least.
“No, it’s not Duke,” I say.
“Which one is he then?”
“Jude Marques. The asshole who doesn’t trust me,” I feel my eye twitching as I say it.
“But you’re sleeping with him?”
I draw my line of sight back to Quinn’s face. “Who?”
“Jockstrap over there?”
I give a snort. “No.”
She smirks. “Then I’m going to mess with him.” She leans over, cups my face, and kisses me on the lips. “There. I’ve riled him up. You can thank me later.”
“Great. Now he’s going to be even more annoying with Duke gone. And how the hell did he even find me?”
“You’re losing your touch?”
“Or Dante is,” I say, cocking my head. My mind is racing ahead as I let my gaze wander the bar we’re in. Quinn continues her inane small talk, and that’s how I know Dante is listening to every word.
“Are you sleeping with Duke?”
After a pause, I shrug. “No.”
“But you have?”
My mouth is dry so I pick up my martini, drink a mouthful, and then set it back down. “Fucking isn’t a crime.”
Quinn laughs. “Oh, you’re so going to hell.” The smile she gives me doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t blame you. Duke is hot for an eighteen-year-old.”
“So what’s so important you wanted to meet?” I ask her, cutting to the chase. Dante will be expecting me to ask Quinn that question.
“I had to make sure you were okay.” The concern in her eyes is real. “And give you this.” She reaches around her neck and unclasps her locket. “It was my mother’s. I want you to have it.”
As I take the chain from her, Quinn’s fingers brush mine. “Be careful V, He won’t stop until he finds you.” Her voice is hushed.
“I’m counting on it. In fact, I expect nothing less.” I slip the necklace into my inner pocket knowing all too well that Quinn never knew her mother. She was abandoned at a hospital when she was born and spent all her years growing up skipping from one foster care home or family to the next. Just like I did in my later teen years.
The locket is a decoy.
“Now I need to go,” I say, as the customer in the booth next to us gets up from their seat and grabs their coat.
I quickly get to my feet.
“Wait. Take this.” She chucks something small at me. It looks like lipstick. I catch it and glance at it. It’s a cheap chapstick. Berry flavor.