“You were just six weeks old when I lost your mother. I was alone with a new baby and had more enemies than I could count barking at our doorstep. If you were going to survive, you needed to be smart and strong.” The conviction and pain in his voice made my chest hurt. Even to this day, it still pained him to talk about her. I didn’t want to imagine how hard it must have been for him at that time in his life, but he painted a vivid picture.
To calm himself, Stefan took a deep breath. A large cloud of fog formed around him when he released it.
“You are,” he whispered, pulling my attention back to him. “You are so smart. The way you read people and situations…you see things that other people don’t and you’re quick about it. Tonight, you knew right away something wasn’t right. I was watching you, Maura. You looked Sasha and his men over and came to a decision in less than five seconds. I watched as you swiveled that steak knife inward to hide it, knowing, preparing.” He smiled as he stood there remembering. “Your strength is even more remarkable. You stared down the barrel of Sasha’s gun with the cruelest smile I’ve ever seen, and I’ve never been so proud of you.”
“I don’t understand why I was given a test to begin with. What was worth going back on your word?” I asked, allowing my hurt to be heard.
“It’s tradition. A test of loyalty. A lot of people break when pressed with fear. I needed to know you wouldn’t. Since you’re not afraid of dying yourself, I had to find something that would make you equally afraid, if not more. You gave me the idea last night when you were talking with Ian. He betrayed us because of his love for his daughter. You were right, by the way. His daughter is sick. He and his wife couldn’t afford her treatment. I decided to let his wife keep the money.” He gave me a pointed look, reminding me of the promise I'd made when it hadn't been my place. I'd considered writing Stefan a check to replace the money, but now I felt like he deserved to eat the loss.
“Back to the point.” He cleared his throat. “I used your love for Jameson and myself against you and it worked. You were frightened when you wholeheartedly thought we were going to die. It took strength to work through that fear instead of rolling over and giving them what they wanted to try and save us.”
“Some fucking tradition,” I grumbled, still not seeing the point.
“I test everyone when I’ve decided they’re ready to join the fold,” he said. The fold? “I even tested Jameson.” My brows shot up, curiosity piqued. “It was a similar test. He didn’t break, but he wasn’t as quick thinking as you were. Nor did anyone get hurt. That was a first and I’m so happy I got it recorded. I’ll be showing off the video in next week’s family meeting.” He chuckled.
My father was certifiable. He was acting how a normal father would act when their child came home with macaroni art and he wanted to proudly show it off by hanging it on the fridge. I hadn't made him macaroni art, though. I'd stabbed someone and he was going to boast about it just the same.
“What do you mean, the fold?” I asked. “I’m supposed to be shadowing.”
Stefan pondered for a moment. “I only suggested that you shadow because I wanted to slowly introduce you to this world versus scaring you off before you were ready. I was worried if I offered you a job right off the bat, you’d turn me down. I’ve always planned to bring you into the business, like I did with Jameson. I’ve just been waiting for you to be ready, to find the strength I knew you had.”
I was stunned, speechless.
“No more tests. Tonight was the last one. I’ve seen and learned all I needed to know you can handle this. I give you my word as a Quinn.”
Should I believe him? I guess I understood why Stefan had tested me. That didn’t mean I had to like it. Understanding was the best I could offer. At least he was honest as to why he'd done it, which was a first. My shoulders sagged because deep down, I had already forgiven him. I wanted to give him another chance, like always. I just hoped I didn’t regret it later.
Stefan stuffed his hands back into his pockets while shuffling his feet in an attempt to warm up. He noticed my pumps on the ground next to him before he looked back at me, eyeing my bare feet and short dress. “It’s time to go home. You’ll get sick if you’re out here much longer, bare footed no less,” he said, holding his hand out to me. It was awkward for him to do that from so far away. Then I remembered where he was standing, just outside the sand pit.
Smiling deviously, I rocked in the swing a little. “I’m tempted to see if you’d ruin your shiny shoes to come and get me,” I teased.
He frowned, clearly not finding me funny, and looked down at the sand with distaste. Nope, he wasn’t going to do it.
He tilted his head toward his black Escalade parked in the street, which had two of his goons standing next to it. “I have that chocolate cake waiting for you in the car.”
I stopped rocking in the swing and my evil little smile dropped. Well played, Stefan. Well played.
The chocolate cake was sinfully good. Stefan had bought me a whole eight-inch round and I ate almost half of it on the drive home. Well, Stefan had a few bites. In my defense, I hadn't gotten to eat dinner. When we got home, I cut one more slice off and placed it on a plate before putting the rest in the fridge.
With plate in hand, I walked up to my room to find Jamie waiting for me. As soon as I stepped through the door, he jumped to his feet from the couch and cautiously approached.
“I know you’re upset, but please let me explain,” he pleaded.
Huh? Why would I…oh.
I had never been upset with him. Looking back, I could see how he'd gotten that impression with how I'd stormed out of the restaurant, not even giving him a second glance. All my anger had been directed at Stefan. I understood what Jamie’s loyalty entailed and I’d never held it against him. Clearly he hadn't believed me when I'd explained that to him in the parking lot of Club Anarchy or else he wouldn’t be tiptoeing around me right now, looking guilty as hell.
It was good to know he understood what he'd done was wrong, despite having no choice, and I wasn’t going to complain about the groveling. The thought of this big, bad mobster begging me to forgive him tickled me in a twisted way. So I thought I might just see how far this would go.
“I understand how fucked up tonight was. Believe me, I really do,” he said, probably thinking back to his own test. I wondered if Stefan had recorded his, as well?
He stopped walking to stand a few feet before me. Damn, he was sexy as hell in his suit. Downright drool worthy. It took some serious restraint to keep my eyes up when all I wanted to do was objectify every delicious inch of him.
“You have to know, it gutted me seeing that fear in your eyes and knowing I had to take part in putting it there.” He took another step closer, invading my space, and his hand came up to cup my cheek. His eyes were filled with such remorse as they locked with mine, pleadingly. He truly felt bad and I wanted to cave, but I could be stubbornly wicked sometimes.
“What can I do, baby?” he whispered, thinking I wasn’t going to relent. “What do I have to do to make it right?”
Ah, shit. I couldn’t take it anymore.