Page 14 of End It All

"This is bullshit," I muttered.

Part of me was sorely tempted to go sleep on the couch, but I remembered what it looked like and shuddered. There was no way that couch wasn't crawling with new life forms of bacteria. It was a petri dish of organisms. Yeah, I was okay with not sleeping there. Finally giving in, I walked to the side of the bed that held no nightstand and climbed inside. As soon as I laid down, I was wrapped in the scent of Quincy's cologne. My stomach tightened. Why did it smell so good?

"Whoo, that was good," Quincy said as he walked out, still towel drying his hair. Still naked. "I needed a good shower."

I stared before my eyes narrowed, and I flipped over. "Put some fucking clothes on!"

"I told you, I sleep naked, baby girl. Get used to it."

Every muscle in my body tightened as I rolled over to glare at him. "Donotcall me baby girl. I'm a fucking man."

Quincy chuckled. "Sure, sure," he said as he stretched and checked himself out in the full-length mirror that was propped against the wall. He flexed his muscles, turning this way and that as he stared at himself. "Damn, I look good."

I grimaced. "Gross."

He turned and raised a brow. "You don't think I look good?"

The question came so suddenly that I was thrown off balance. I opened my mouth to tell him what a piece of shit he was, but instead my voice disappeared and I was left tripping and stumbling over my words.

"You… who the hell... I think you're a?—"

"I'll take that as you definitely think I look good. Move over, baby girl."

Rage boiled in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to fly over the bed and punch him in the face until he was swollen and bloody. The only problem was that I was pretty sure he had a gun. Maybe not on him, but nearby was a safe bet. With a huff, I shifted back over to my side and yanked the blanket up beneath my chin. The bed moved beneath me once the light went out, and I held my breath as Quincy joined me in bed. I stayed still. Until a hand, the one I’d noticed was missing part of his pinky, caressed my hip.

"What the fuck man!" I screamed as I jumped up.

Quincy burst into laughter. "Ah man, it's so easy to fuck with you."

I ground my teeth together trying not to lash out and punch him in the face.What have I ever done to deserve this?My copious crimes flashed in my mind, and I sucked in a shuddering breath. Every time my mother told me I would pay for my crimes, I thought she was just being a mom. Now, I wasn't so sure. Karma was feeling way more real.

"Just stay on your side," I grumbled.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm doing it." Quincy yawned. "You stay on your side."

"The fuck? I'm not the one with my dick out!"

I expected him to have some smart-assed reply, but instead, he fell silent. Waiting, I stayed still, my breath catching in my throat... until he started to snore. The air whooshed out of me, and I shook my head at how stupid he was. What if I snuck into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and buried it into his guts? He had no idea who I was. I could burn this whole place down around us and laugh at the wreckage. Quincy would never know.

A smile tugged at my lips. I shifted slowly before a hand wrapped around my wrist, yanked it upward, and I stared as ahandcuff was snapped around it. He hooked the other end to the bedpost all while I stared in horror.

"What the fuck is this!" I snapped.

"Shhh. Time for bed."

I continued to stare at Quincy. "Let me out of this. Now," I snapped.

"I said"—he moved closer, slapped a hand over my mouth and laid back down—"shut the fuck up."

Quincy started snoring again in the next minute as if nothing had happened. I tried to get free, but there was no getting out of the metal cuff that he had put around my wrist. Not without him seeing me move to get something to help me out. Even so, I checked, yanking it a few times before I winced and hissed.

"Do I need to show you how good those hold?" Quincy's voice wrapped around me in the dark. "Because I can."

I went still. I'd been in enough tough situations to know when to knock it the hell off. Antagonizing Quincy wasn't going to get me anything. Instead, I closed my eyes, stayed still, and eventually I heard his snoring. I tested the cuffs one more time, but there was no way out of them unless I was willing to break a bone.

I was fucked.

Ratty jeans,a few band T-shirts, and a couple of boxers. There were a few silver rings and cheap necklaces; all it told me, he was poor as shit. So was he here in New York to screw his old man out of money? For some reason, that didn't sit right either. I'd go through his phone or his wallet but he conveniently didn't have either.