Quinlan shuffled forward. A guard leaned down and cuffed one of Quinlan’s hands to the side of the table.
“You good?” The guard asked Max.
Max nodded. Not really.
The guards left them alone. Probably the SSD’s order. Max didn’t speak at first. He just stared at Quinlan. His stepbrother was paler, and the orange prison garb was too bright.
“Don’t!” Quinlan snapped. “Don’t you dare pity me.”
But part of Max did. And the other part wanted to jump across the table and rip the ass**le in half. His palms pressed harder into the table. “I’ve got some questions for you.”
Quinlan leaned back as far as the cuffs would let him. “Don’t you mean your agent whore has some questions?” He smirked. “I knew she was an FBI bitch the whole time. Kevin told me when she came into The Core, asking all her questions.” His jaw hardened. “I warned you not to get the cops, but you were screwing her—”
“I’ve been thinking about you.” Max bit back the rage as he cut through Quinlan’s words. “The SSD called me in today. Said if I got you to confess, they’d give you therapy.”
“I don’t need f**king therapy! I’m not sick!”
“I don’t give a shit if you are or not.”
Quinlan blinked.
“I don’t give a damn if they open up the cell, shove your ass in, and never pull you back out.”
Quinlan shook his head. “No, you don’t—”
Max’s fists slammed into the table. “You killed Frank.”
“The ass**le needed to be put down.”
“And then…” Max leaned forward. “You made your worst mistake. You came after her.”
Quinlan stilled.
“You’re lucky she was the one with the gun, because I would have blown your head off and never hesitated.” Disgust had his jaw tightening. “Therapy? They think you need therapy? Nothing’s gonna fix you. You’re broken, twisted. Hell, we never expected you to amount to much anyway. Dropped out of college, couldn’t hold a job, and shit, now everyone knows that you’re just a f**king psycho—”
“Shut up!” Quinlan was on his feet, the table jerking toward him as he yanked his arms up and the cuffs stretched taut. “Just shut the hell up! You sound just like him! Never f**king good enough! No matter what I did. But I showed him! I showed every damn one! It was me. I did it. I planned it f**king all. I was king, I was God, I could do whatever I wanted—”
“And you wanted to kill.” Softer, sadder, because Max had gotten what the agents needed. And he’d known just what to say.
He’d said what Frank would have told his son. So easy, really.
“I wanted to show those bastards that life wasn’t perfect! Daddy couldn’t always bail their asses out!” Quinlan’s face reddened.
Couldn’t or wouldn’t?
“Did Beth beg?” Max asked because he had to. They were watching. He just wanted this over. Wanted it all over. Staring into Quinlan’s eyes now… I don’t see the same man. A stranger stared back at him with eyes that were too bright.
“Hell, yeah. She begged, she pleaded, and she promised me any damn thing I wanted.” His lips twisted. “But I just wanted the bitch to die. This was my show, and she tried to screw with me—”
“A show?” Max’s stomach tightened. “Is that all this was?” A show to prove that he was the best.
Quinlan’s left hand slammed onto the table. “The cops couldn’t catch me. The Feds couldn’t stop me. Those ass**les begged for their lives, but they weren’t worth enough.”
And how much was enough?
“What did you do with the money?” Max kept his eyes on Quinlan.
“I’ll never tell.” Quinlan slowly lowered back into the chair. Some of his rage seemed to have cooled just that fast. “I’m going to get out. The shrinks will say I’m crazy, and I’ll get out.” A wider grin spread on his face. “I’ll get out, I’ll get my money, and I’ll be looking for you, brother.”
And he realized that Quinlan had a plan. Had always had his plan. “All those times you cut yourself…”
“Ah, good, they know about those already.” Quinlan inclined his head toward the mirror. “I’m just a poor, sick boy, never given enough attention, always having to compete with the killer in my own home. A killer.” He shook his head and pointed at Max. “Not a very good role model for a guy, huh? I wonder…” Quinlan licked his lips. “Do you think your kids will be as screwed up as me? I mean, with you as—”
The door flew open. “Enough.”
Samantha stood there, breath heaving and fire raging in her eyes. “We’re done here.”
Quinlan laughed. “Knew the bitch was there. I was hoping she’d come out to join us.”
Max’s vision went red. “Don’t even f**king look at her.”
“I’ll do more than that,” Quinlan promised.
I’ll get out….
“We’ve got everything we need, Max. It’s over.” She came toward him and took his hand. “It’s time to go.”
His fingers locked around hers. He rose, pulling her close. Her sweet scent filled his nose. Life. Hope.
So much more.
Love.
“Don’t trust him, sweetheart,” Quinlan taunted. “He’s playing innocent, but he knew what I was doing. Why do you think he was at The Core that night? He was there to meet Veronica, to set up the next vic. He might have been screwing you, but it was just so he could cover his own ass. He didn’t—”
Her fingers brushed Max’s cheek. “He’s not worth it,” she said, and the words were clear, strong.
Silence.
Then Quinlan’s face mottled, and he yelled, “Fucking bitch! You f**king bitch, I’ll slice you open! I’ll make you beg, make you scream, and I’ll make him watch!” Spit flew from Quinlan’s mouth.
Max took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Then he looked back at Quinlan. Veins bulged from his brother’s neck and his eyes were wide, wild. “You’re not going to see daylight again,” he told him.
Quinlan glared at him, hate twisting his face.
“They’re going to throw you into a ten-by-eight room. They’ll keep you locked up like a dog, and you won’t get out.” He’ll never touch her. “But if you do somehow worm your way out of prison,” and Max moved, deliberately shifting his body so that Quinlan couldn’t see Samantha, “if by some stroke of the devil, you get out, I will find you. And trust me, Quinlan, you’ll be the one who begs because I will never let you hurt anyone else I love.”