Chapter 8

That night, Quinn was bound at the wrists and ankles and driven to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

Holden pressed a kiss to her cheek before they put her in the car. His voice was quiet and earnest. "Serena's fragile. She'd fall apart if anything happened to her. You're not like that. You can handle this — you've handled worse. And whatever happens in there, I won't think any less of you. Not one bit."

"After this, I'll owe you. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Making it up to you. Again.

"Holden."

Quinn's voice came out barely above a whisper, but it stopped him.

"If you do this, there won't be a rest of our lives. There won't be anything."

He looked at her as though she hadn't spoken. He gave the kidnapper one last look — cold and absolute — and said: "Remember what I said. If she's not returned to me tomorrow in one piece, I will take you apart."

"I keep my promises."

The kidnapper freed Serena and shoved Quinn into a small, locked room.

Later, deep in the night, he came back. He wasn't alone.

"Your woman was right — Holden Blackwood would trade his wife for his mistress without blinking." He shook his head, almost sympathetic. "You know, I don't even blame you. But Holden killed my child. Sold my wife. I want him to understand what that feels like."

He raised his hand.

Outside, in the cold, Holden gathered Serena into his arms, shaking with relief.

Inside, they held Quinn down.

She screamed Holden's name once.

No one answered.

It lasted all night.

By the time gray light came through the cracks in the walls, Quinn had stopped fighting. Her face was blank as stone, tears sliding down from the corners of her eyes without sound.

At dawn, the kidnapper dragged her — expressionless, barely moving — to the edge of a cliff overlooking the Hudson River.

"Relax. Said I wouldn't kill you. Place is just quiet — calling your husband to come collect you." He sounded almost cheerful about it.

The wind off the river was savage. Holden arrived while she was still standing at the edge, and when he saw the state of her — the bruising, the torn clothes, the absence in her eyes — he went rigid with fury.

"What did you do to her? You swore you wouldn't—"

"I promised not to kill her. You're the one who put her in this situation. You chose Serena. Don't look at me like that."

The kidnapper gave Quinn a light push. She didn't move.

She was looking at Holden.

There was nothing in her eyes that he recognized. No anger. No hurt. Only cold.

It was the emptiness that shook him most. He'd never seen her look at him like that — like she'd already decided. Like there was nothing left to decide.

He took a step toward her, softening his voice: "Quinn. Come here. Whatever happened in there — it doesn't matter to me. You're still Quinn Blackwood. We'll go home—"

She didn't look at him. She looked at the edge.

The cliff face dropped to the river below. This was the spot she'd chosen.

He realized, in one horrified instant, what he was about to watch.

"Quinn." His voice cracked. "Quinn, come back here. Now."

She finally spoke. Her eyes stayed on the water.

"You know the thing I regret most in my life?" She paused. "Saving you from that explosion."

She spread her arms and stepped backward off the edge.

"Quinn!"

The scream tore out of him, but she was already gone — falling, arms wide, like a woman who had simply decided she was done.

Like a moth walking into a flame.

He didn't hear her hit the water. He couldn't hear anything at all.