It went straight to voicemail.
For the next eighteen years, Quinn thought about the girl with the long blonde hair, especially when Frank would need to take business trips. Quinn knew Frank was going to see her.
Quinn not only lost contact with Saffron, but she turned a blind eye to everything. It all happened after Frank pushed her one night when she had questioned his whereabouts, and Quinn hurt her back. Frank's doctor, who was on his payroll, told Frank that pain meds would help. Since that night, Quinn had been taking those meds to help with the pain that never went away.
Until Frank took Frankie to the penthouse on his eighteenth birthday.
Quinn didn't want her sweet boy to be with a whore. She didn't want her son to follow in his father's footsteps, but at that moment, she knew it was only a matter of time. Frankie was already selling drugs for Frank, and there was nothing Quinn could do about it. She couldn't sit back and watch her son become a criminal like his father. So, she left.
After she secretly packed a bag, took several stacks of cash Frank kept in his home safe, she left in a taxi. It wasn't like Quinn to leave without her driver/guard. The problem was, Quinn didn't know where she was going. She had no friends, she hadn't seen her family in years, and she hadn't been out of New York City in over eighteen years.
"Where to?" the cab driver had asked.
"Just to the nearest hotel." Quinn couldn't turn back. She needed to do this for herself. She needed and wanted to live her own life.
The cabbie had looked at her through the rearview mirror as though she were crazy. "The nearest hotel?"
"Yes," Quinn had confirmed. "That will be fine."
The cab driver had shaken his head in amazement as he drove away from the curb, only to drive around the corner and stop. "Here you go."
Quinn had blinked. "Here?"
"This is the nearest," the driver had stated.
Quinn couldn't be that close to home while on the run, could she? But then maybe Frank wouldn't think to search for her only a block away because who would be that crazy to stay within a stone's throw?
She opened her bag and pulled out a twenty, handing it to the driver. "Sorry for the trouble. Keep the change."
Quinn had gotten out of the car and hurried into the lobby of the hotel. She checked into a room for three days, hoping that was enough time to come up with a plan to get out of the city. When she got up to her room, Quinn realized that in her hasty escape, she had forgotten her bottle of pills. She knew deep down that her back was better, but when you become dependent on a substance, your brain tells you differently, and your body craves the drug.
Instead of going home, Quinn took that time to detox. She didn't know the agony would last almost a month, but it did, and Quinn had thought on several occasions that she was going to die—sometimes she wanted to. But she hung in there, making sure to stay hydrated and ordering soup from room service often. Finally, after three weeks, Quinn started to feel like herself again, and she knew that she had survived.
Since Quinn was alive and well, she had a clear head, so clear that she knew she needed to help that young blonde girl from eighteen years ago. Quinn didn't know if the blonde was still at the cabin, but she knew that Frank had gone there only a month before. If she wasn't there when Quinn arrived, at least she would know and then that would be that. She would move on with her life and start over somewhere.
Quinn checked out of the hotel and took a cab to a car rental where she rented the cheapest car. It was nothing like she was used to, but she wouldn't be able to afford the life of luxury on her own with the few thousands of dollars that she had taken from the safe. She had to be smart.
While she drove up to the cabin she had only been to once before, she thought she would get lost. To Quinn's surprise, the country store was still on the corner where she remembered turning. And when she pulled up to the small cabin, Quinn saw the blonde she was looking for.
Now, she needed to figure out what the hell she was going to do about it.
When I stopped for gas on the way back to the city, I bought disposable cell phones for Zell and me in case we needed them for anything while we completed the plan. I also grabbed a gas can full of fuel to take with us. I'd never set anything on fire before, but pouring gasoline on a building and throwing a lit match onto it would have to work. And if I could kill a guy in cold blood, I could set a fucking building on fire.
I wasn't totally okay with the fact that I had killed a guy even though it had to be done—for a few reasons. The asshole had raped Zell, and then my father ordered me to kill the guy. I didn't put up a fight because I was so angry. I didn't even hesitate when I pulled the trigger. I just shot him and left.
I was definitely a Russo.
Before I drove us to the warehouse, I stopped at the bank and withdrew all of my money I had in the account. It was tens of thousands of dollars—in several cashier checks. My father was a co-holder, but I didn't care if he was tracking my account. I was back in the city, and he would hopefully assume that Zell and I had stayed the night there.
As I pulled away from the bank, I chuckled.
"What?" Zell asked.
"I feel like I just robbed the place."
"It was that much money?"
I lifted a shoulder, pulling into the constant traffic of New York City. "If I wanted to spend it all at once, I could buy us a car." Speaking of, I knew I needed to dump the van. Not because of GPS tracking—the van didn't have it—but because Zell was fucking raped in the thing. No way did I want to drive it all the way across the country. Plus, a car would get better gas mileage.
"You know, this is the first car I've ever been in."
"Really?" I furrowed my brow.
Zell nodded. "I walked across the street to feed the ducks, and I never got to do anything else."
"Well, we're going to fucking change that as soon as we do what we came to do."
"I hope we pull it off."
I reached over and squeezed her knee. "Me too, princess."
On the way to the warehouse, we went over the plan. Essentially, I would be doing it all, and Zell would be my lookout. Once we got to my father's club, she would go inside with me to free the girls as fast as we could. I knew there was going to be a guard with them as they got ready, but I still had my gun, and hopefully as far as they knew, I was their boss. Even if they put up a fight, I didn't think any of them would shoot me without my father telling them to do it.
"Are you ready?" I asked as I parked the van just outside of the warehouse. There were cameras, but I didn't care if my father saw me. The auction was starting in an hour, and I knew they had left only a few minutes before with the merchandise.
"I just stay here, right?"
"Yes, and call the cell phone if you see someone driving up."
"Okay."
I started to get out of the van but then stopped and turned back to her. I knew she was scared because I was too. In the past several hours, we had both been through shit we never thought would happen. I leaned over and cupped her cheek, bringing her lips to mine. It was the first time in over a week that I had felt her soft lips, and I couldn't leave to go into the unknown without tasting her another time. "I'll be right back."