The thought of that actually pisses me off a little bit. Here I am sneaking around with this girl like it’s a big damn taboo thing, when he’s up and married another of the Old Man’s daughters. But he and Reagan look so fucking happy, and hell, he broke whatever rules we had first. ‘Protect them’; I mean don’t think William exactly meant ‘don’t date my daughters’ with those words, but I seriously doubt he’d be impressed with a roughneck grunt like me fooling around with Quinn like this. It’s different with Hudson and Reagan. Hud’s learned to deal with his shit, instead of like me who just hides it.
My cellphone buzzes in my pocket, and as I take it out and glance at it, I’m suddenly reminded of exactly what I’m hiding; reminded like a slug to the gut.
I scowl at Javier’s text under the table, gritting my teeth. Fighting has always been a thrill to me; there’s this rush of pure reality when you connect, or even when someone connects with you. But now, fuck, now it’s just this thing I have to do; like a jail sentence I just can’t get through. I’m over it, but it’s not over me, apparently.
I glance at the address on my screen - some shit-hole part of the South Bronx - and stand from the table as I clear my throat; “I, uh, I’ve gotta run and do something.”
Hudson frowns; “Aw, what the hell, man? We went over those shipping contracts all afternoon; we’re done with business for the day.” He shakes his head; “Sit your ass down and be normal.”
“It’s- uh, it’s a date actually.” I say, raking my hand through my hair and trying not to look as guilty as I feel.
“Oh!” Hudson looks up from his plate and grins at me; “Well, shit, get going then!”
Reagan’s eyes narrow at me; “Good for you, Logan,” She says dryly, and I swallow and clear my throat again uncomfortably. Yeah, she definitely knows.
I glance quickly at Quinn and see the frozen look on her face as she avoids my eyes and pushes food around her plate with her fork. She knows what this is.
“Uh, so, OK then. I’ll see you guys later on?” I force a casual smile out at the table, but my eyes keep darting back to Quinn, who still won’t look at me.
“Yeah, see ya,” She finally mumbles out, looking away and taking a sip of wine.
It’s not until I’m about to climb into my car at the valet stand when I hear her shout my name as she comes running out of the restaurant. Her face looks white as she shakes her head when I turn to her, and it feels like a stab through my chest.
“Don’t go,” She says pleadingly.
“Quinn-”
“Just don’t go? You don’t have to fucking do this! Please, Logan! Please don’t do this.”
“I have to.”
And I can’t tell you why, and I know you’re going to hate me for that.
I can’t, though. Telling her everything would mean losing her. This might mean the same thing, but at least this way she just thinks I’m an asshole instead of knowing the utter piece of scum I was before. And if I have to lose her anyways, I’m sure as hell not going to let her into that part of me if I can help it; for her sake.
“I have to go, Quinn.” I say quietly.
“Please.” Her eyes are wide and searching my face for something that I know she’s just not going to find; not right now. “For me,” She says, and it’s like someone’s just punched me in the face; “For me, don’t go.”
It’s all for you, I think, tightening my jaw as I look into those deep pools of her eyes.
“Here,” I fish the keys to my penthouse out of my jacket pocket and push them into her hands; “It’s still partially under construction, but you can stay at my place.” She’s shaking her head and looking away from me with all the pain I know she’s feeling in her eyes; “Quinn, I’ll meet you there later; it’ll be fine.”
She takes the keys, but she’s turning and slipping out of my hands and walking back inside; “It’s going to be fine!” I lie, calling out to her. She turns and gives me one last lingering look full of hurt and pain, and it kills me because lying to her face hurts the worst, worse than I know it’s going to hurt later.
When I’m stepping into the ring later, sweat already pouring down my bare chest in the rush of the moment, the lights bright and the guy across from me looking like he wants to bury me, that last look from Quinn is the only thing I can see.
I’m supposed to win this one, but I just don’t fucking care anymore. Javier is screaming bloody murder at me from outside the ropes, but I ignore him and just take the beating. I barely put up blocks as the guy I’m fighting hits me again, and again, and again, numbing the pain. It’s sweet release with every hit; like the punishment I get and deserve for fucking up my own rules and breaking her heart.