Chapter 126. Quinlan II
Chapter 126: 126. Quinlan II
Maisie
Her voice was dark and coaxing, pulling me along in a tale I could almost picture.
"I met Auguste then. He was one of her suitors. No. Actually. He was trying to get her out. He was trying to marry her. I thought he was an idiot. It was clear as day that it didn’t matter how much money you threw at Seraphine, it would never be enough for her. She was an addict. Addicted to the drugs. Addicted to the sex. Addicted to anything that drove her high. Eventually, he stopped trying."
She took another long drink. "And she fell pregnant." I thought I saw a slight tremor to her fingers. "For many months, she tried to get rid of it, but I suppose Quinlan was stubborn. And nine months later, she gave birth to him in that filthy place."
Violette shook her head. "The women there adored him. They cooed over him, fed him scraps, protected him when they could. But his own mother... she didn’t care. She left him unattended for days. Starving. Crawling under tables while men grunted and women moaned above him. Eating scraps off the floor like a stray dog."
My stomach twisted painfully.
Violette continued, voice quieter now. "I was barely surviving myself. But I couldn’t stand it. I started sneaking him food, cleaning him up, clothing him. He was so small. Mon Dieu. So terribly small. Every time someone spoke about getting him out to his father, Seraphine claimed not to know who he was. Between all the drugs and men, it wasn’t hard to believe, but I’d spent enough time hating on Auguste to know the boy was his. I just didn’t know how to contact him."
She inhaled deeply. "And one day I could not find Quinlan. I’d been engaged the entire day, and hadn’t been able to check on him. I searched the whole building."
The softness left her voice. "When I finally found him..." Her jaw tightened and murderous rage lit up in her eyes. "He was cornered in the dark. There was a man. He... he had his hands down Quinn’s pants."
The blood drained from my face and the glass in my hands cracked.
Violette stared into her drink.
"Quinlan was seven. He was quiet. So quiet. Like it wasn’t the first time."
For a moment neither of us spoke. The laughter from the kitchen sounded very far away.
"I killed him," Violette said calmly.
My eyes widened.
Violette shrugged one shoulder. "He stopped breathing long before I stopped hitting him, bleeding out all over the floor. I was arrested and tossed in jail for murder, and all I could think about was the fact that I had left that boy in that place."
Her fingers tightened around the glass. "Seraphine did not care."
My throat felt thick.
"She knew what was happening, how many times it had happened," Violette said. "In some ways, she encouraged it. Children were commodities in that place. Pretty children even more so."
I closed my eyes.
God.
"When they asked if I had a lawyer, I gave them Auguste’s name. I knew when they started laughing at me that Auguste was not a man you called and he merely appeared. I left him a voicemail, still. I didn’t tell him I was in jail. I told him he had a son and the boy needed saving. I was bailed out the next morning and I found myself in the backseat of a limousine with Auguste’s fingers covered in blood, and Quinlan had splatters of blood across his cheeks. He looked like a child who had closed a door inside himself."
I watched Quinlan again. He was shoving a tray out of the oven.
Violette followed my gaze. "For years I worried. He never spoke about it. Not to me. Not to therapists. Not to his father. Not to anyone. I still worry. And that is why I’m telling you all of this, amore."
She had a small smile playing on her lips. "This isn’t really about Quinlan."
I blinked at Violette. "It isn’t?"
She reached forward and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. "Do you know why the Convergence bonds are so strong?"
I thought back to my lectures with Brynn. She’d mentioned something about soul resonance, but I had been too busy thinking about naked men during that lecture to pay attention.
So, I shook my head.
"My aunt used to say everyone’s soul has a color, or a certain print. Different in the ways we all are. When we break, that color changes. It fades or it strengthens, but no two people can have the same shape or color of souls. The convergence bond says otherwise. It recognizes all four of them as one body. One mind. One soul. Same shape. Same color. They’re the same at the very core."
It felt like she was trying to say something to me, but I didn’t quite grasp it.
She smiled, as if reading the questions through my eyes. "You are going to spend the next year convincing yourself that none of this matters or justifies anything. You will blame everything on the bond you share with them.
"It will drive you mad, in fact. But one day, you are going to look at them, truly look at them, and understand why they watch you the way they do. Why they follow you. Why they won’t let you go." Her finger lowered from my face and jabbed softly at the skin over my heart. "Same color. Same shape. One soul."
My eyes stung. And I felt the tears and hurt pressing down hard against me as I glanced up again. Quinlan was hanging off Jericho’s back. "Get off, you bloody wanker," I read off Jericho’s lips, but he wasn’t trying to thrown Quinn off.
Quinn said something back and four of them roaring with laughter.
My lips quivered. What other horrors would I find if I tore past the surface and simply reached down? Did I want to? More importantly, could I stop myself? I had this rage inside that I didn’t know what to do with. I imagined if both the causes of Quinlan’s ache were still alive, I might have gone down the deep end again, to find and finish the job.
"Thank you," I said to Violette, even if I didn’t know why I said it.
Thank you for saving him? Thank you for looking after him? I didn’t know. I felt strangely protective of Quinlan all of a sudden. Of all of them.
Violette nodded, then grinned. "Bon."
She drained the rest of her champagne. "Now, I have a contact who can get you a rifle, just in case you plan on killing them anytime soon."
She paused thoughtfully. "Though personally, I recommend condoms. Much cheaper than ammunition."
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