“He saved you, too.”
“Mario didn’t save me. He helped me out of guilt.” Everyone knew Q and I were close friends, but no one knew besides Dash and Keenan that we were more than friends. We had history. Quentin was owned by the same people who enslaved me, and that was how we met. He took a lot of beatings on a daily basis and was often called retarded by the other trainers because he would never talk. It wasn’t until discussions of putting him down circulated that he mysteriously disappeared.
“Look,” he huffed. “I got your back. Just don’t be so fucking stupid. If you die, then who will help those kids?”
“You will.”
He shook his head with a solemn expression. “I’m not you, man. I can’t—” He stopped to watch me carefully.
“Kill?” I finished what he couldn’t say and watched him squirm.
“Yeah.”
“Then don’t. I’m not asking you to.”
“I know. I just wish we could leave it behind for good.” Before I could respond, his phone began to ring, and after briefly talking to the caller, he hung up and announced he had to go home.
“Foster parents?”
“Yeah. Stephanie is having nightmares again, so they want me home more often.”
“She still won’t tell you what is causing her nightmares?”
“No, and she gets so scared when I ask her. It pisses me off because I don’t know how to help her.”
“What about the parents. They straight?”
He rolled his eyes before answering, “Not all parents are bad, Keiran.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He took a deep breath before releasing it slowly. “They’re okay, but I’ve been keeping an eye on them. Maybe I should ask about her real parents and find out where she came from.”
He left after we formed a new plan to deal with the threat of Arthur close by. Dash was running late so I would have to run it by him and get his opinion once he arrived.
As soon as the door was closed, Monroe attempted to casually walk around the corner. I sent her a knowing look, and she blushed. I loved the sight of her skin reddening in embarrassment, but this time, I was too distracted by the sorrow present in her eyes.
“He was there?” she asked so softly, I almost didn’t hear her.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” I lowered my voice to a low level that usually made her squirm. I could practically see the goose bumps on her skin now. The perverse part of me still got off on her fear.
“I—” She swallowed back what was probably an apology, lifted her chin, and demanded, “Tell me what happened to him.”
“He was sold like I was.” I shrugged as if I was discussing a bag of apples rather than a human being.
“How did he get here?”
“It’s not my story to tell.”
“Come on, Keiran. You have to give me something. You once said you wanted me to trust you. How can I trust you if you continue to keep secrets?”
“Why is it so important for you to know? You think you can fix me? Is that it?”
“Sometimes I don’t believe there is any hope for you.” She lowered her eyes as if she felt guilty for admitting to the truth. I fought the smile tugging at my lips.
“Smart girl.” I meant it sarcastically but knew it was the truth.
“Your past doesn’t have to define who you are today. It doesn’t have to define who you can be.”
“I don’t need a therapist.” I brushed past her to leave the room, hoping she’d take the hint and drop it, but I should have known better.
“At least tell me if you hate heroes so much why, did you save me?” she shouted.
“Because you’re the fucking exception, Monroe. Does that make you feel special?” I continued my retreat for the stairs.
“I swear if you don’t finish this, I will leave here somehow and you will never touch me again.”
I was prepared to ignore her, but her last threat stopped me in my tracks. “Come again?”