The screaming came to an abrupt stop, but it still rang in my ears. I glanced over at Tina. Still lying there unconscious, her chest rose and fell with even breaths.
With empty pistol in hand, I walked back to the bed, only slowing to scoop up the silk tie Tom had been wearing that day off the floor. I set my gun on the nightstand next to the bed before I rolled Tina onto her stomach.
I climbed onto the bed to straddle her back, pinning her arms beneath my legs. Wrapping Tom’s tie around her neck twice, I got a good grip and pulled it tight with all my strength.
She came to when her airway was cut off. She thrashed beneath me. I pulled the tie even tighter, until my muscles burned and my arms started to shake. She struggled longer than I'd thought she would.
Long after her body stilled, I released my hold on the tie. With labored breaths, I climbed off of her, grabbed my gun, and calmly made my way downstairs.
CHAPTER 2
Whenever the discussion of my family came up with Tom or even Tina, I either was tight-lipped or lied. As far as they knew, I was an orphan. Yeah, that was a load of crap. I had a huge family. Some of them I missed and some I could go the rest of my life without seeing ever again, but keeping who they were a secret was imperative. So it was best to pretend they didn’t exist at all.
Pulling my cell from my purse, I sat on the couch, sinking into myself. I closed my eyes to help calm my racing heart. What I'd done was unforgivable. I understood that. But I wasn’t looking for forgiveness. There was zero guilt on the emotional rollercoaster currently doing loops and steep drops in the pit of my stomach. I was stressing about what was going to happen next, or rather, what I needed to do next.
Upstairs, the bodies… I was completely out of my depth when it came to cleaning that mess up. I didn’t even know where to begin, nor was I going to try. If I did, I might as well take my own ass to prison. I wasn’t accustomed to feeling helpless. I hated it.
What I hated even more was who I needed to go to for help. I stubbornly didn’t want to call him. Not to sound dramatic, but my normal life would be over. He’d make me return home.
Who am I kidding? It was over the moment I reached for my gun.
“Damnit,” I seethed, opening my eyes to look down at my phone.
Almost six years ago my father had asked me if I wanted out—of the family, that is, and I'd said yes. My plan had been to go to college, then create a new life somewhere along the West Coast, preferably California. Walking along a warm beach while sipping a margarita had been my dream. With a sizable trust fund, I'd left New Haven behind and been working toward that dream here in Hartford ever since.
No one in my family was allowed out, especially the women. Our lives were at the mercy and complete control of men. It was archaic, fucked up, and had never sat well with me. I wasn’t wired to be at anyone’s mercy but my own. Which was why I'd rebelled, a lot. If Stefan hadn't been my father, I probably wouldn’t have lived to see my teens, or at least been beaten into submission a long time ago. I should have been grateful that wasn’t my fate. A huge part of me was, but a tiny glimmer wondered what if, maybe even wished my life would have stopped before I'd reached my teens, because my life growing up hadn't been sunshine and rainbows either.
My father was Stefan Quinn, the boss of the New England Irish mob. He wasn’t a good man. In fact, he was a monster, and now I was about to call that very monster for help.
Okay, now I’m feeling a little regret. Purely selfish regret though.
Was I even sure he’d help me?
Yeah. He cared about me, I guessed, even if he had a shitty way of showing it. Before I'd left home, I'd been in a really bad place. It had been just after that night and… well, let’s just say I'd rebelled on a whole other level in hopes I’d push him enough to kill me. It had been dark times at Quinn Manor, and it had ended with him asking me if I wanted out. I'd left six years ago without looking back. Apart from an occasional email here and there I hadn't spoken to Stefan or anyone else in my past life in over a year.
I gripped my phone in my hand until it hurt.
I can’t do it!
You have no choice.
I dialed the number to his cell. He wasn’t saved as a contact in my phone. None of their numbers were. My heart was pounding in my chest, making my body buzz all over as I put the phone to my ear. It went straight to voicemail. Annoyed, because it had been hard enough the first time, I dialed the house phone. There was only one reason his cell would be off. Family meeting. The phone rang twice before a feminine voice picked up.
“Quinn residence. May I ask who’s calling?” I didn’t recognize the voice.
“It’s Maura. Put Stefan on the phone, please.” I tried to be polite. The apparent irritation and my curt tone, though, made me sound condescending. Way to go, Maura.
There was a pregnant pause. Despite not knowing who I was speaking to, there was no way she didn’t know of me. It’d be hard not to. There were pictures of me growing up all over the house. Unless Stefan removed them all. As soon as that thought entered my mind, I instantly knew it was false. He would never have done that. Brody wouldn’t have let him.
“He’s in a meeting right now. I can tell him you called.” Her tone told me she knew who I was, but her response wasn’t what I wanted to hear, especially in my current mood. Stay calm.
“I know he’s in a meeting, but this is urgent.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t interrupt—”
Ma’am?! It never mattered if Stefan was in a meeting or naked in the shower. If I, his daughter, needed him, one was to put him on the phone. If Brody had answered, I’d already be speaking with my father.
“I didn’t ask what you can or can’t do.” So much for staying calm, Maura. Then again, I'd never claimed I was perfect. This was really hard for me. I just needed to get Stefan on the phone before I lost my nerve.
“Excuse me?” she drawled.
This was going nowhere fast. I needed to backtrack, instead of acting like an asshole. “Listen,” I sighed. “I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important, believe me. It’s an emergency.”
“That’s unfortunate. I’ll let him know you called, or you’re welcome to call back at another time. Have a wonderful day, ma’am!” She ended the call in a chipper tone that screamed sarcasm.
I dropped the phone from my ear to look at it in disbelief. Sure enough, the screen showed the call had ended. “What the fuck!” That was becoming my new favorite phrase today.
I was fuming, frantically bouncing my knee like a tweaker jonesing for their next fix. I debated on waiting to see if Stefan would call me back. Something about that lady didn’t sit right with me. She wasn’t going to tell him I’d called.
There was one more person I could call. Jamie.
He always had his phone on him. Even during meetings. He had to because of his position. I dialed his number and as I pressed the phone to my ear, memories of when I'd been seventeen, beaten, bloody, and hiding in a bathroom at a party flashed behind my eyes. Wow, lock that shit down. Now is not the time.
Taking in a shaky deep breath, I listened to the rings, counting them. On the fifth ring, I wasn’t feeling optimistic and started preparing myself to leave him a message on his voicemail. Before the sixth ring, the mumbling sound of multiple voices talking in the distance filled the silence through the phone. “Maura?” Jamie’s deep, silky voice poured into my ear, his tone filled with disbelief.