“And Tracy? Did you kill her too?”
Quinn asked the million-dollar question, the one I wanted her to believe with all my heart. Even if she decided to believe me, I still needed Brian’s confession on tape. It was the one thing I needed to clear my name and for her to never doubt me again.
“No, I didn’t.” My eyes burned at the thought of my sister. “I never would have touched her. She called me, crying, and screaming for her life. I heard Brian in the background, attacking her, and I got into my car and drove to their house as quickly as I could, but the phone went dead on her end, and when I got there, it was too late.”
“Brian? You said, Brian?” Quinn closed the distance between us.
“Does it matter? Would you believe me anyway if I told you that it was Brian? Why do you think he is here? I need him to confess.”
“If you needed him, then why did you need me?” she asked, staring straight ahead as she sat down. Quinn was out of it. She had a lot to process. She reminded me of a statue, frozen, and unblinking.
“And that’s our cue to leave. We will talk about this later. I want us to leave by Friday, no later,” Sebastian said, gathering the files.
“Let’s go play pool. Winner buys strippers next,” Heaven wiggled his brows and slapped the arms of the chair he sat in and pushed himself to his feet.
“You’re on,” Owen said. “Not the cheap strippers either. I want the kind that strips for governors and fucking presidents. The classy kind.”
“The classy kind?” Sebastian grabbed a few beers from the fridge for them as they opened two French style doors that hid a game room on the other side. “I don’t think they make classy strippers, but I’ll make sure to look under C in the phonebook for them.” Sebastian rolled his eyes and disappeared behind the doors with the rest of the guys. Heaven jumped on Grayson’s back, and Grayson flung Heaven over his shoulder, slamming him on the ground. Heaven gets his ass kicked way too often, but he never learns a lesson.
Sebastian reached for the door handles and met my eyes for a moment before closing them off from me and Quinn. I had no idea where Ingrid was, probably sleeping since it was so late. I didn’t care. I was glad to be alone with Quinn.
“So, you kill people, for ‘the greater good’ and you think Brian killed Tracy?” Her eyes turned to wells, but tears didn’t fall. She did her best to maintain control of her emotions. I loved that about her. She was fierce, strong, and never liked to show when she felt weak.
I sat down beside her, debating if I wanted to take her hand in mine, but I decided to give her space. “I don’t think Brian killed Tracy; I know he did. I wish we had this conversation ten years ago.” I rubbed my eyes when exhaustion and stress started to weigh my lids down. It was a conversation I had hoped we would have, and now the time was here, and I didn’t feel like talking. “I don’t kill for the greater good. It isn’t often we kill people that get in the way, but their life to get to kill a criminal who murders people every day. I’ll take those odds. I’ll save dozens of lives if it means sacrificing one.”
She turned her head to me, slowly, and the movement caused a tear to fall. It bypassed her cheek completely and landed on her pant leg. “That’s fucked up,” she said.
“Well, when you have a criminal record of third-degree murder, my options for work are limited. It’s either stay in crime and make money, or flip fucking burgers, but I’d rather live like a king like I deserve.”
“You’re very high and mighty for a man that just admitted he killed people.”
“I’m high and mighty on a billion-dollar throne,” I added and sat back against the couch, stretching my arm along the back.
“Wow, criminal-ing really does pay off, doesn’t it?”
“If you do it right,” I said, crossing my ankle over my knee. My fingers reached for the blonde strands of wet hair falling down her back, and I mindlessly played with the ends.
“And I am going to guess that you do it right?”
I smirked and then rubbed the cocky smile away with my free hand. “Criminals don’t even know it’s us. They have a nickname for us.”
“San Quentin Five?” she joked and then gasped, turned her eyes on me, and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was so insulting.”
I gave a light chuckle and wrapped a tendril of her hair around my finger. “It’s okay. It was a good joke. No, they call us the Underground Kings because we never fail, and since they have never been able to figure out who is targeting other criminals, they came up with ‘underground’. I don’t know; maybe I’ll talk to the guys. San Quentin Five has a ring to it,” I joked and poked her side.
She jerked to get her ticklish zone away from me and then tilted her head back until she rested it against the couch. “I don’t know why we are joking about it, but I suppose if you were going to do something criminal, this would be the way to go. What do you usually do with the money you get if you get money?” she asked.
She was asking the important questions now. “Well, we donate a lot of
it, but we keep a portion. Last month, we stole diamonds from a guy and sold them to another, donated about seventy percent of the funds, kept thirty percent, and we never need to work again, honestly.”
“Diamonds? You didn’t keep any!” Her mouth fell open, and I saw the red wet tongue that I sucked into my mouth earlier, and my cock plumped, wanting to feel the wet muscle wrap around it. “Blasphemy. If I had been here, I would have kept one.”
“Is that so?” I lowered my voice and scooted over until our thighs touched. The thought of her here on her own free will turned me on more than ever. I could see her here, helping us plan or help with us if we were wounded since she was a nurse.
“What woman wouldn’t want diamonds?” she deadpanned me.
“A woman with no taste, apparently.” I did keep a diamond. Each of us did. I picked the yellow canary diamond. It was seven carats. We could have made a million more, but something made us keep one, whether it be to build a ring or just to have one because we wanted one.